The guilt and humiliation twisted Elizabeth’s stomach. “Yes, I was unfair to him. For all of his former self-importance, I formed unjust prejudices against him. I hope, after what happened between us, I hope that is all in the past. I have come to admire him very much, Jane.”
Jane smiled. “Even so, it would be difficult for anyone to presume that you and Mr Darcy eloped. Lady Catherine must have been too frightened for rational thought. Any admiration of you, of course, is entirely natural”—she smiled—“but I cannot think you would ever bethatfond of Mr Darcy.”
This wounded too. “Oh.” If Darcy appeared at her window with a ladder, she would climb down in her dressing gown.
“Lizzy?” Jane leant forward in concern. “What does that face mean? Do you have an affection for Mr Darcy? You spent some weeks together in Kent before your ordeal.”
No matter how much she hurt, she would keep the whole situation to herself. She had no idea how her relationship with Darcy would proceed and, until she did, it was better—it was easier—not to admit to anything. “I was very wrong about Mr Darcy. And…I grew fond of him.”
She felt more than fond. It was difficult to fall asleep last night without hearing him breathe from the pillow next to her.
Jane, however, took her at her word. “Well, he took good care of you during your ordeal, and I am glad that you like him better. And we can stay in Cheapside for as long as you need to steady your mind before we return to Longbourn.”
That was good, because she needed to be in town when Darcy returned. He would call, and they could resolve everything between them. She also needed the quiet here with the Gardiners. It was not only the mental wounds of what had happened that troubled her. She was certain that time, a sympathetic and unemotional listener, and her own resolve would ultimately heal those. But there was an aching void in her heart caused by Darcy’s absence.
Darcy had walkedthe short distance from his house to Grosvenor Street where Bingley was spending the season with his brother-in-law. He used the time walking home to Charles Street to pass over everything that had happened between Sunday and today. Even though he was now safe and could, in theory, be at ease, he found that his mind was always working.
After parting from Lady Catherine, he had spoken with John Wade, magistrate of the large parish of Westerham, to report the abduction and explain his aunt’s part in the smuggling scheme that led to it. Mr Wade had put on a concerned expression, but once Darcy had said Markle’s name, he knew justice would not be done.
The damned man had been afraid.
This officer of the peace had said all the correct things, but Darcy doubted that the warrant he said he would issue would ever be given to a constable to execute. Either fear of retribution from the smuggling gangs or a resignation to the fact that the constables might never find Markle amongst the tunnels and basements of Kent was clear across his face.
“Kidnapping is not a crime typically prosecuted, you know. Since you and the young lady escaped, unharmed, I think it best to be grateful for that and put the matter to rest in your hearts and minds,”Mr Wade had said shakily when Darcy had finished making his statement.
Eventually rumour would lead to the loss of her ladyship’s reputation, and Lady Catherine’s pride would lead to the loss of the last of her money, but Darcy was furious that Markle and Steamer would remain free.
He yawned as he turned the corner from Grosvenor Street to Davies Street, glancing over his shoulder to be certain no one was too near to him. He had not slept well on Sunday or Monday night. One could say it was due to anxiety over the ordeal, or a busy mind unable to stop thinking, but he knew it was because Elizabeth had not been asleep on the other side of his bed. Between his exhaustion and the exchange he had just had with Bingley, he felt depleted.
My conversation with Bingley could have gone worse. He could have told me he never wanted to see me again.
Darcy first had to confess his abduction to his friend, at least broadly, to explain his conversation with Elizabeth about her sister. He coped with Bingley’s alarm on his behalf and answered a lot of questions before he could confess his interference and apologise. Bingley had been rather short with him as he suddenly remembered he had somewhere to be, but Darcy trusted that after a call on Jane Bennet he would be restored to his friend’s good graces.
He was past Berkeley Square and Gunter’s and turned on to Charles Street. As much as he wanted to see Elizabeth now, Bingley was on his way to present himself in Cheapside. He owed it to his friend to not be there as a distraction. He would call on her tomorrow.
He was still a little irritated that Elizabeth had never considered the possibility that Wickham had lied to her, but he was desperate to settle everything between them. He would not throw away a future with Elizabeth over one misunderstanding. His temper he might not vouch for, but he was not spiteful. And he loved her ardently.
He was about to climb the few steps to his door when he heard a commotion from below. Darcy walked through the wrought iron gate to the stairs below the street level that led to the servants’ entrance almost directly below the front door.There was a scuffling of feet and a small cry, and then he heard his housekeeper shout, “I told you not to come back!”
Standing by the coal vault was Kirby, still dressed in his mourning clothes, and Darcy’s housekeeper blocked the door.
“Mrs Watson,” he cried. Kirby spun round at the sound of his voice, and Darcy saw relief flood his eyes. His housekeeper, on the other hand, looked angry.
“Sir, there is no trouble. I sent this beggar away last night, and now he is back?—”
“Master Kirby is my guest,” he said, putting a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Come inside.”
He steered Kirby to the door, and his housekeeper was now alarmed that the master was entering through the basement. “Sir, please, you ought not to come in through here.”
“It is still a door to my own house, is it not?” He led Kirby down the corridor, past the housekeeper’s room, pantry, and other offices, and into the servants’ hall. A maid was forced to stop to curtsey and a footman in dishabille sneaked off at the sight of him, and all the while Mrs Watson fretted over this breach of decorum. Darcy sat Kirby at the table and then asked his housekeeper to bring Kirby something to eat.
Darcy sat across from him and looked him over. His bruised eye was now green rather than purple. Aside from being dirtier than he typically was, Kirby did not look further injured. “What happened?” he asked gently.
Kirby set his shoulders. “You said you would send me to school, help me become a barrister if I left my uncle. Is that true?”
Darcy nodded. “I will oversee your education myself, if that is what you want. No boy should be forced into being a criminal.”
“I never wanted to be a free trader, but do I have to tell you where to find my uncle in order to go to school?” Kirby pursed his lips.
