Chapter 23

Elizabeth had so many questions; unfortunately the only one forefront in her mind was, “Why is Mr. Darcy here?” But she could not ask that now. She turned back to her mother, struggling to formulate a question, let alone a thought.

“Where is Lydia now?”

“Lydia and Kitty are upstairs,” her mother answered exuberantly. “Most likely they are talking about the wedding!” Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips. “Mary is with them.”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “I am certain Mary wants to ensure there is a little decorum in their plans.”

Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief again. “Oh, she will only lecture and moralize. Poor Lydia! You know how Mary can be so tiresome in her opinions.”

Elizabeth sighed. “When is the wedding to be?”

“Two weeks. There is so much to do!”

“She is to be married before…” Elizabeth paused, not knowing whether there even would be a wedding between Jane and Mr. Bingley. She bit her lip, deciding what to ask next. “Is my uncle here? My cousins?” Her questions only served to give her time to think.

Her aunt answered, “My husband had some business dealings today. He ought to be home soon. The children have been spending these days with my sister, who agreed to take them for a time.” She gave her a knowing look. “We thought it would be best.”

Elizabeth wanted answers—needed answers—and she desperately searched for some way to get them. Her mother then conveniently answered one of her questions, one concerning Mr. Wickham. As Mrs. Bennet spoke, her eyes were again directed behind Elizabeth. Tilting her head toward the gentlemen and nodding in approval, she said, “Mr. Darcy has graciously allowed Mr. Wickham to remain in his town home until the wedding.”

Elizabeth turned abruptly and stared incredulously at Mr. Darcy. She felt as though she were in a dream where nothing made sense.

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Elizabeth and continued in her discourse, shaking her head in displeasure. “My brother has insisted upon some excessive rules that keep Mr. Wickham from seeing his Lydia as much as they would wish. They…”

Before Mrs. Bennet could finish her thought, an idea came to Elizabeth. Without thinking, she interrupted her mother by looking at her sister and saying, “Jane, I am desperately in need of some fresh air and a walk. I have been confined in a carriage for two days and would very much enjoy a stroll about the neighbourhood.”

She reached over and grasped Jane’s arm, startling her somewhat as she pulled her to her feet. “Perhaps Mr. Bingley and his friend would accompany us.” It was not a question. “Will you excuse us, please?”

She ushered Jane quickly through the room, eyeing Mr. Darcy as she walked past in a way that meant she wished to talk with him. The two men gave short bows to Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Bennet, and then silently followed Elizabeth and Jane as they walked out of the house.

After taking several impatient steps away from the house, Elizabeth heard Mr. Darcy whisper something to Mr. Bingley, who immediately stepped up alongside Jane.

“May I?” Bingley asked, extending his arm. Jane willingly took it, prompting Elizabeth to pause and wait for Mr. Darcy to draw up alongside her.

In two steps he was at her side, but she remained where she was, bringing him to a halt. Once Jane and Mr. Bingley were a sufficient distance ahead, she turned and began to walk, Darcy following her lead.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a whispered voice fraught with bewilderment.

“What kind of greeting is that?” he asked. “You spend almost two weeks at Pemberley and you greet me with, ‘What are you doing here?’”

Elizabeth looked up at him, trying to read the expression on his face. His eyes betrayed his fatigue, and his creased brow revealed the days of frustration he must have experienced dealing with Wickham. But when his eyes turned to meet Elizabeth’s, she was surprised to see him smile. The sight stirred her deeply, and her heart responded with an ardent pulsing.

“Forgive my impertinence, but I trust you understand my meaning,” she answered quickly. Turning her eyes back to the path before them, she continued, “The last I saw you, I had just informed you about Wickham’s involvement in my sister’s dreadful behaviour. I believed you to be quite… incensed at the news. You departed immediately to return to Pemberley… and your guests!”

“True,” he said solemnly. “I was greatly incensed. And I did return to Pemberley, but only briefly. I knew that if anyone could find Wickham and your sister in London quickly and set matters to right, it would be me. I determined to set off immediately.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth but words did not come. She slowly shook her head as a myriad of thoughts and more questions assaulted her. She was finally able to utter, “But why would you do this? You had guests at Pemberley! You despise the man!”

“Hmmm, yes, on both counts,” he murmured. “Georgiana is likely entertaining the Goldsmiths and Hamilton as we speak. I suspect that by now, the Willstones have departed.”

Elizabeth lowered her head. “Their premature departure is due to the letter, is it not? I am terribly grieved over the… misunderstanding and mortification that letter must have caused,” Elizabeth said softly, feeling deep regret for her carelessness.

“It was not just the matter of the letter that prompted their departure. That misunderstanding merely gave them a convenient excuse to leave.” He stopped and let out a huff, combing his fingers roughly through his hair. “If ever I gave them… gave Miss Matthews… the impression that I…” He clenched his jaw and looked down. Softly and repentantly, he said, “It was not my intention to mislead or deceive anyone. I fear I do not always see these things clearly.”

A smile touched Elizabeth’s lips at his admission. It revealed a side of him that she found rather engaging. Here was a man who was so eligible, yet oblivious to the ladies who set their sights on him. It was very possible that he was unaware of even Caroline Bingley’s profuse admiration. Elizabeth sensed his discomfiture, however, and deemed it prudent to quickly change the subject.

“You departed Pemberley, yet the letter I received while at the Ketterlings informing me that the carriage would come the following day… it was written by you.”

His smile was tinged with guilt. “I wrote it before I departed for London, and I advised those who accompanied you not to inform you that I had been away.”

“But why?” Elizabeth asked as she stood looking up at him.

Darcy turned and began to walk again. He took a few steps away from her in silence, obviously weighing his words. Coming to a stop, he turned to look back at Elizabeth, who remained at a standstill. “I knew you would discourage any assistance from me if you knew my plans. It was my decision to keep you uninformed of my coming to London to find Wickham and your sister.”

“You had no reason to do all this. You were under no obligation to me, my family, and most of all, Mr. Wickham. What you have done for him… for my sister…” Elizabeth let out a disgusted sigh. “We both know how little Wickham deserves any such generosity.”

Darcy gazed down at her with a single brow raised. “That is why I did not wish for you to know. I have already acted, and yet still you state your argument for why I should not.” A smile appeared, giving Elizabeth the assurance that he knew her well.

His words and actions conspired to disarm Elizabeth. She looked down and shook her head. “But why would you do all this?”

“I had my reasons.”

He was obviously not going to explain. With questions still swirling in her head, she debated which one to ask next. She was grateful that Jane and Mr. Bingley were quite a distance ahead of them, but her voice softened as she asked her next question. “What are Mr. Bingley’s views on Lydia’s actions? Certainly he must have considered that if our family was tainted with disgrace, it would not be in his best interest to marry Jane.”

Darcy chuckled lightly under his breath. “My good friend Bingley is of a most peculiar nature. He is so easygoing and good-natured that he hardly ever anticipates any wrong occurring.” His voice became reflective, and he tilted his head at Elizabeth as he said, “I believe your sister is very much like him in that regard.”

Elizabeth murmured an assent.

Darcy turned and began walking again. He extended his arm to Elizabeth, silently inviting her to join him. She came up alongside of him, slipping her fingers around his arm.

Darcy continued. “When I arrived at your aunt and uncle’s house, Bingley and your sister were both overly confident that Wickham and Lydia would be found and the situation would not be as dire as first thought.” He looked down at Elizabeth and smiled. “On this occasion, I did not contradict them with my own conjectures, hoping—yet doubtful—it would progress as they both anticipated.”

“How soon did you find them?”

Darcy drew in a breath. “It was not until the following afternoon. I will spare you the details of how I came to find them. Suffice it to say that marriage was the only viable option.”

“So they are to marry then.” In frustration, she kicked a large pebble that lay in the path. “And how can you allow Wickham to stay at your London home?”

He pursed his lips slightly before answering. “Right now, he is tied up and gagged in one of the draughtiest rooms of the house. I allow him only bread and water and will keep him there until the day of the wedding.”

Now Elizabeth chuckled, but only briefly. “While I highly doubt that, it certainly would be what he deserves.”

Darcy shrugged.

“Pray, forgive me, Mr. Darcy, but I must inquire about the house. How can you justify providing them with such a gift? They are far too undeserving!”

Darcy let out a long breath. “While what I did may sound generous, I have implemented some very strict imperatives. As a matter of fact, the house does not belong to them and will never belong to them. It is in my name, and even if Wickham gambles away everything he owns, the house cannot be taken away. It sits on enough land with sufficient crops and several tenants who will supply a modest income for them. I have hired a reliable associate to be steward, and he will handle all the finances. Your sister will be safe.”

“But still, neither of them deserves this.”

Darcy halted his steps and turned to Elizabeth. “They deserve each other, and they will certainly get what they deserve.”

Elizabeth’s breath faltered, and she stopped and looked up at him as she realized his meaning. “Yes, I suppose they will…”

Darcy continued, “The home is large enough to accommodate the Wickhams, as well as your mother and two younger sisters if they choose to live there. They will no longer need to be at the mercy of your aunt and uncle in Meryton. This will improve their situation.”

“I hope they have expressed their gratitude.”

“Abundantly.”

“And Wickham has agreed to this?”

“It was the only way I would untie him.”

Elizabeth readily noticed the curl of his lips. “It pleases me—yet perplexes me—that you can jest after all that man has done. He ought to be locked up and the key thrown into the Thames!”

“We are of like mind in that,” Darcy offered. “Wickham agreed because he had no other recourse. He had far too many debts—most from gambling—and was about to be dismissed from his regiment for disciplinary reasons.”

“And this man Lydia wants as her husband?” Elizabeth cried out in frustration, pounding her fists through the air. She was not really expecting an answer.

His silence was answer enough.

Finally, Darcy asked, “Do you mind if we speak of other, more pleasant things?”

“Oh, yes!” Elizabeth exclaimed, and the two continued walking. “Please allow me to tell you how much I appreciate you arranging for my travels to London in your carriage. It was most comfortable, and I truly enjoyed Anna’s company on the journey.”

“I am pleased. Georgiana knows her well and thought she would make a good travelling companion for you.”

“Thank you also for the books. We enjoyed reading from them as we journeyed, helping the time to pass more quickly. That was very kind of you. I really did not expect…”

He nodded and waved his hand through the air. “It was nothing.”

When Elizabeth peered up at him, she noticed his pinched brow and tightly pursed lips, a sure indication of the awkwardness he was feeling, likely due to all her praise. She decided to leave the topic of their next discourse to him.

He finally spoke. “The first morning you were at the Ketterlings, I had no knowledge of your departure. I thought… I had hoped you might walk up to the ridge…”

“In my mud boots?” she said with a mischievous smile, hoping to ease his discomfiture.

“Yes, in your mud boots,” he replied as he brought his hands together and nervously rubbed his fingers. “I wished to show you something.”

“The sunrise? I remember.”

He shook his head. “There was something else.”

Elizabeth stopped and turned to look at him. “What was that?”

Darcy looked toward Jane and Bingley, who were now slowly walking back toward them. “There is a house and some land that is for sale. It is on the other side of the ridge. When you encountered me that first morning, I had just come from viewing it from up there.” He moistened his lips and paused. “I thought it would be a good home for Bingley and his new bride. I wished to know your opinion of it.”

Elizabeth’s brows rose as high as her jaw dropped. “You wished to know my opinion?”

“I know the view of the estate from up there was somewhat limited; however, I believed you would have had an idea whether your sister would be pleased with it.”

“Have you mentioned it to Mr. Bingley?”

“Yes, we leave first thing in the morning for Derbyshire. He wishes to see it.”

“And will he make his decision on his own?”

Darcy skewered his mouth. “You mean without my interference?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Or perhaps I was wondering whether he would seek my sister’s input.”

“I promise you the decision will be totally, completely in his hands, but…” Darcy took a deep breath and Elizabeth waited for him to let it out. “If he asks for my advice, I will certainly give it.”

Elizabeth laughed softly. “Indeed, I am quite certain he will… as will you.”

Darcy’s demeanour grew serious. “I wondered whether you… I mean, I thought you might… reside with them once they are settled. You no longer have a need to be a governess.”

“This is not something Jane and I have even discussed. Perhaps Lydia would want me to live with them.” A twinkle in her eye as she glanced up at Mr. Darcy was met by the darkening of his own. “Then again, perhaps not,” she quickly added.

He was silent for a moment, and Elizabeth wondered if her teasing had angered him. She promptly reassured him, “If Mr. Bingley and Jane did invite me to live with them, that would certainly be my preference.”

“I thought so. I hoped so.” Darcy fisted and then opened his hands, stretching his fingers taut. After a brief moment of silence, he stopped walking and turned toward Elizabeth. “I wished to know how you felt… about them living so close to Pemberley… given the prospect of living with them.”

Elizabeth searched his eyes. Her heart pounded as she contemplated what he wished to know. Was he concerned that she would not wish to live so close to him? Or did he hope she did?

She could not immediately think of an appropriate answer, so she asked a question. “Just how close is it to Pemberley?”

“Well, that is no easy answer. If you wish it to be close, it is merely a three-mile walk from the top of the ridge down to the edge of their property. Or if you prefer, it is a gruelling fifteen miles by carriage as you have to drive out through the woods, cross a river, and then proceed around the ridge.”

Elizabeth laughed, her heart still pounding. The deliberations of her answer, however, were interrupted by the return of Mr. Bingley and Jane.

Jane’s arm was tucked so intimately through Bingley’s that Elizabeth felt a tinge of jealousy. How she would love to wrap her arm through Mr. Darcy’s in similar fashion.

“Have you heard about the house, Lizzy? Has Mr. Darcy told you?”

“Only the barest of details. I know it resides either three miles or fifteen miles from Pemberley, depending upon your mode of transportation.”

“I think it sounds wonderful, Lizzy. You will come and live with us, I hope. It is a big enough home. You can have your own apartment.”

Elizabeth cast her eyes to Mr. Bingley, who seemed to be in hearty agreement. “I can barely contain myself with this news Darcy brought. Imagine us being his neighbour! I am inclined to take the house sight unseen, based on Darcy’s encouragement!”

Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy, who displayed an awkward smile. He put up his hands in protest. “Now, Bingley, I have merely told you what I thought. You must decide for yourself!”

“Have you ever steered me wrong, good friend?” Bingley asked.

To Elizabeth, the silence was deafening. She was quite certain Darcy’s thoughts—as hers—went to the advice he had once given his friend about Jane. That seemed so very long ago.

Elizabeth saw the admiration in both Jane’s and Bingley’s faces as they looked at Mr. Darcy. He, however, had paled, his eyes cast down in remorse. Elizabeth was convinced he was about to confess his grievous fault in front of them all. There was no need to announce it now!

Without thinking, she tightened her fingers around Darcy’s arm, and before he could utter a word she said, “Tell us about the house as we walk back, Mr. Darcy. I should like to hear all about it.” She encouraged him with a nod of her head.

Darcy tenderly took her hand in his and gave it a gentle tug, pulling her arm farther through his, securing it against him. He then placed his other hand over hers. How often had Elizabeth taken a gentleman’s arm, but this time it prompted a warm flush to sweep across her face, sending a shiver that reached all the way to her toes. He held onto her hand as if he feared she would be snatched away.

She lifted her eyes and met his. All trace of the fatigue and frustration she had seen earlier in his features had been replaced by a look of tenderness. She rewarded him with a smile.

“Come, now!” exclaimed Bingley. “We are waiting.”

Darcy looked at his friend. “Waiting?” he said, apparently unmindful of the previous discussion.

A nudge from Elizabeth and a soft, “You were about to tell us about the house,” brought him to his senses.

They began to walk, and he proceeded to tell them what he recollected about Braedenthorn Manor. It was of moderate size, in very good condition; the living quarters were all quite spacious, the downstairs sitting room and library were small, but the dining room and kitchen were recently remodelled and expansive. The gardens had not been maintained, but the roads leading into it were.

It required much concentration for Elizabeth to tend to his words, particularly when his fingers entwined with hers. Jane and Mr. Bingley conveniently walked ahead of them, and when they looked back to better hear Mr. Darcy’s words, they were so enthralled with his descriptions that they did not notice how tenderly he held her hand, nor did they notice the warm blush upon Elizabeth’s cheeks.

As they came back to the house, the sun was just beginning to set. Jane and Mr. Bingley took the steps quickly, but Mr. Darcy stopped, pulling back gently on Elizabeth’s arm. He looked down at her hand in his, giving it a tender stroke with his fingertips. He glanced up and searched her face. “You have yet to answer my last question, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Your last question?” she asked breathlessly. “Which one was that?” She truly could not comprehend anything beyond the touch of his hand.

“If you choose to reside with your sister, your elder sister, that is, what are your feelings about living in such close proximity to Pemberley?”

Elizabeth pinched her brows down in contemplation. “Pemberley is a fine house,” she said, making a vain attempt at concealing a smile. “One could not ask for a finer estate to have in one’s neighbourhood.”

He lay her hand flat against his open hand and stroked it with his other hand. “I believe you know my point was that I would be your neighbour.”

Elizabeth felt her heart would burst, it beat so fervently. He stood so close; her small hand now pressed between both of his, and his eyes searched her face. “I think…” she said slowly as she forced herself to breathe and think clearly. “I would very much like it.”

Mr. Darcy must have been holding his breath as well, for as soon as the words were out of her mouth, he released a long puff of air. “I am very glad to hear that.”

He gently squeezed her hand and then reluctantly released it as the two proceeded into the house. Once they crossed the threshold, he released her arm, but her heart he would not relinquish.