Elizabeth did not rouse until the carriage stopped before a well-lit, surprisingly grand home in GracechurchStreet. Plainly a bit disoriented, she sat up, looking sleepily at him. “We are here already?”
Maintaining an equanimity he did not feel, Darcy brushed her soft cheek with one thumb. “You did not wake when we stopped on the outskirts of town. You are exhausted, and I wanted you to remain asleep if you could.”
The carriage door opened then, and he hurried to hand her out himself. Before she could think of a protest, he took her arm so that he might be allowed to accompany her to her uncle’s door. A neat servant answered it, and, recognising Elizabeth, greeted her warmly before hurrying to fetch her mistress.
“Lizzy!” her aunt cried. “This is a pleasant surprise!” She stopped short at the sight of him.
“Aunt Gardiner, this is Mr Darcy—a very good friend of Mr Bingley, whom I think I have mentioned in my letters. He has done me a great service today, one which I can hardly repay.” She bit her lip, obviously uncertain of what next to say.
He bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet any relation of Miss Elizabeth’s. I am certain she will wish to give you lengthier explanations of why we have appeared, unannounced, upon your doorstep. I wonder if her uncle, Mr Gardiner, is at home, that I might have a private word with him? I promise not to take up much of his time.”
He was a stranger to these people, and it was an irregular request to be sure, but it was obvious that their presence here was anything except ‘regular’. Elizabeth gavehim a measuring look, which he did his best to return with a reassuring smile. Whether he was successful or not, he could not say.
One thing was certain—Elizabeth obviously had no reason to be ashamed of either Mr or Mrs Gardiner. Their home was lovely, their decorum flawless, their manners impeccable. Gardiner’s study was as elegant as Darcy’s own at his Mayfair home; the man himself was immaculately dressed in perfectly tailored clothing. It was with a niggling sense of shame that he recalled his expressions of near contempt to the Bingley sisters. Though many gentlemen refused to have anything to do with trade, he had made several wise investments in promising businesses—and in his inexperience, a few unwise ones as well; he supposed a man like Mr Gardiner seldom made the same errors.My low assumptions of the Gardiners’ respectability were completely mistaken.
“Thank you for bringing my niece to me, Mr Darcy,” Gardiner said politely, once they were both seated. But Darcy heard a note of steely discontent within his mannerly address. This was not a man who would be impressed by the Darcy name or be put off by vague explanation, no matter who gave it. “I admit to a good deal of surprise at finding my favourite niece upon my stoop—and accompanied only by a man with whom I am unfamiliar.”
“You may well be—although probably not quite so surprised as I am,” Darcy replied ruefully. It was remarkably difficult to know how to tell the tale. “It began this morning, when my man informed me of a plot againstMiss Elizabeth—although I suppose, truthfully, the story starts at a Meryton assembly some weeks ago.”
“Your mother didwhat?” Mrs Gardiner had taken Elizabeth aside in her private sitting room, where they would not be disturbed; a tray of tea, biscuits, and breads sat between them. “Lizzy, I can hardly credit it!”
Elizabeth took a bite of a biscuit, staring at it contemplatively. “Believe me when I say that I am now certain she will go to any length to achieve a marriage for one of her daughters. You do not want to know how many times I cast up my accounts between Longbourn and here. She gave me far too large a dose of Papa’s tonic, I am certain.”
Her aunt looked aghast. “Because she wanted you to agree to a wedding with that cousin you wrote me of? It seems too fantastic for words.”
“I agree! Especially because I was, in essence, drunk as a sailor. Only Mr Collins would be so stupid as to have failed to realise it. In my memories, the entire world was spinning madly. I am sure I seemed absolutely nonsensical.”
“I cannot believe any parson would conduct such a ceremony.”
“I wish I could not believe it, but he apparently had a licence and old Mr Palmer… Let us just say that I have had a very near escape, thanks to Mr Darcy’s quick actions.”
“Mr Darcy,” Mrs Gardiner repeated thoughtfully. “Igrew up in Lambton, which was near a grand estate, Pemberley, owned by a Mr George Darcy. I wonder if he is the son?”
“I have heard Pemberley praised by Miss Bingley. It must be the same family.”
“If so, Lizzy, he is a great man, indeed. Pemberley is beyond anything.”
Mrs Gardiner was no stranger to the finer things in life; for her to compliment Pemberley in such words was significant. For a moment, Elizabeth could not suppress a streak of longing to see it; in the next minute, the memory of her mother’s unconscionable behaviour became that much more embarrassing, the differences between herself and Darcy growing that much more vast. “I suppose that explains his general contempt for our little society,” she said, trying to make sense of it. “He has not been amiable—indeed, even yesterday I would have said he hated us all.” At her aunt’s expression, she suddenly felt the need to defend him. “However, he has recently dealt with troubles in his family that would dampen anyone’s spirits. Indeed, he has had much weight upon his shoulders.”
Mrs Gardiner gave her a shrewd look. “I must say, you do not seem nearly as distressed about the experience as I would expect you to be—nor so angry with your mother as she probably deserves.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Oh, I am furious with her, never doubt it—furious and mortified. But other matters also occupy my thoughts. You see, Mama’s guile is only the beginning of my tale.”
Elizabeth told her aunt the whole of it—almost. She did not share anything of kisses, nor of hours spent in his arms. But she told her of falling ill and being taken to an inn, and believing, in her confusion and stupor, that she and Mr Darcy were married, of the surprising feelings of acceptance, and the subsequent confrontation at the inn with Mr Wickham, her mother, and Mr Collins. She told her of learning otherwise—and how Mr Darcy had gallantly offered for her.
“I believe that he might even now be suggesting to my uncle that we be married immediately,” Elizabeth finished. “He strongly feels there is a chance that my reputation is at grave risk, due to our stop at the inn, and the confrontation that took place there.”
Her aunt shook her head in astonishment. “This is…an incredible day you have had, Lizzy,” she said, with massive understatement. “Nevertheless, it is just one day. I am certain your uncle will advise that we all take an interval of recovery and see how the world responds to your, um, adventure. Such a marriage may not be at all necessary, especially if you remain with us for a nice, long visit, allowing the situation to cool. However, should the worst happen, at least he is respectable—beyond respectable, even.”
“I will not marry him, Auntie,” Elizabeth insisted. “He is being heroic, and saddling himself with a bride he could not possibly want, and all because Mama, once again, has behaved appallingly, and this time, dragged me into her horrid scheming.”
Mrs Gardiner took her time responding. “I agree that it would be difficult to accept a marriage proposal out of gratitude, and given for reasons beyond, almost, imagination. However, Lizzy, allow me to caution you—do not allow your pride to make such an important decision on your behalf. If you believe him to be a good man you could like and respect, why not allow those feelings to grow into a foundation for happiness?”
That is the problem, Elizabeth would admit only to herself.I could love him so easily—but how couldhelove a bride foisted upon him by deception?But she did not say so aloud, lest her aunt accuse her again of having too much pride. Perhaps she did—but such an unequal connexion must surely lead to resentment instead of happiness!
“It is late,” her aunt suddenly said briskly. “You must be weary beyond belief. I have had your usual room prepared for you. You are not to think of anything else except rest and recovery. I ought to have put you to bed immediately and left these explanations for morning.”
In no time at all, Elizabeth was donning a borrowed gown and tucked into a comfortable bed. Sleep, however, was a long time in coming.
