“I will do so at once.” He was not well enough to go to the club, but it would be good to see his cousin. Darcy needed something to distract him.
He felt terrible turning the Gardiners away, but he really needed to keep his distance. In any case, the damage was already done. They already thought the worst of him by now. In a way, his illness was a blessing in disguise. It prevented him from taking a step in the wrong direction.
The next day, Darcy asked for a bundle of old bread, and set out with Georgiana to keep up their tradition of feeding the waterfowl. As they reached the Serpentine, he found himself looking around the lake for the figure of the young lady with her little cousin. If she showed up, it meant she was deliberately seeking him out. But even after he returned the next day, he saw no sign of her.
“William, I do not understand you at all,” said Georgiana. “If you wish to avoid Miss Bennet, why are we walking in the same location as the day we met her?”
“I have always liked walking in this area,” he said, annoyed at her guessing the inclination of his thoughts, “but if you do not like it, we can walk elsewhere.”
“Hmm,” she said, doubtfully. “Not at all. I am happy to walk around the Serpentine every day, even when it is very cold and you are barely recovered. And of course, we must feed the birds. Besides, the color of the water is very pleasant.”
Darcy looked at the grey water that reflected the grey clouds and remembered how cold that first impact of breaking the surface had been. He thought of the thrashing girl trying to stay afloat, water filling her nose and mouth. They say a murderer always returns to the scene of a crime. He was not a murderer. Quite the contrary. He had saved someone’s life. Why then did he feel this strange urge to visit the scene over and over?
“It is not pleasant, as you know very well, Georgiana,” Darcy said in a firm voice intended to discourage any more questions. “I simply cannot believe that I managed to save that little girl’s life. I keep reliving the moment.”
He shuddered as he imagined what might have happened if he had not acted so quickly.
“Her name is Margaret,” said Georgiana.
“I know. Margaret Gardiner.” Hercousin, as he had just discovered, was Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
“She was very sweet. I would have liked to see her again,” said Georgiana. “And Miss Bennet, too. Are you certain you do not want to answer their letter?”
“Absolutely certain,” replied Darcy. “It was an unpleasant event. I would rather put it behind me.”
“Oh,” said Georgiana. “I did not think of it that way. Margaret almost drowned. I can see why you would prefer not to be reminded of it.”
It was not the reason, but it was true that Darcy wished he could consign the whole situation to the past and never think about it again.
“It is time to go home,” he said, abruptly.
He would not go to Hyde Park again this year. He had rescued a child. That was the end of it.
Yet still, as they rode back home in the carriage, the image of Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s face, along with the long dark waves of her hair, rose up in front of his eyes.
Pull yourself together, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Enough is enough.
That afternoon, a parcel in brown paper came from the Gardiners with the lace for Georgiana.
Darcy examined the intricate pattern and marveled at the artistry and skill that had gone into producing such a piece. The work done by the nuns in Brussels was always excellent, but this one was exquisite. The person who had chosen the lace was a person of discernment and good taste. It had not been a boast to say it was the best lace in England. It was certainly the best Darcy had seen. Darcy could only imagine how expensive it must be.
Georgiana was thrilled. “Oh! It is so beautiful! May I write to thank them?”
“Georgiana!” he said in warning. “We have already discussed this. We will not be writing to them.” Then, to distract her, he turned to the other parcel. “What is in there?”
“It is just the dress I lent to Miss Bennet.” Georgiana shook it out.
The image of Miss Bennet by the fireplace in the long dress came to him so strongly he felt she was almost in front of him.
“You need not worry that we are being uncivil, Georgiana. They do not expect a response,” said Darcy. “It was part of myagreement with Mr. Gardiner. He has already accepted that I do not wish to pursue the connection.”
Georgiana seemed to accept that verdict more easily than Darcy. It went against the grain for him not to thank Mr. Gardiner. At one point he almost went to the desk to write a response, but he managed to hold back and resist the impulse.
It was not until later in the day that he remembered something essential. He did not owe Miss Elizabeth Bennet anything. Nor did he owe the Gardiners a letter. But he did owe something to someone else.
He had made Margaret a promise. Not one, but two.
They were passing by Gunter’s, and Georgiana asked if they could go in to have some tea and confectionaries. Gunter’s did not, of course, serve ices in the winter.
