Page 32 of Darcy’s Guarded Heart

Elizabeth

T he back door creaked open, and footsteps echoed through the kitchen.

The figure in the shadows halted, removed one boot, and dropped it silently in the corner.

He then glided across the kitchen to the chamber on the right.

As he opened the door, it let out a soft creak, and just as he was about to step inside—

“How is Georgiana?” Elizabeth enquired, clutching her chair.

“Why are you hiding in the dark?” Thomas asked, ignoring Elizabeth’s question.

“Because I wished to speak to you before the entire household becomes aware of your return,” Elizabeth replied.

“Will you at least light a candle so we need not converse in the dark?” he asked.

She rose and struck a match, igniting two candleholders in the centre of the room.

With the kitchen now sufficiently illuminated, she looked up.

Thomas’s hair was tousled, and as he shrugged off his jacket to hang over the back of the chair, Elizabeth noticed the snowflakes that clung to his dark locks.

“Is it snowing?” she asked.

“Yes, it began just outside of London,” he answered.

“You did not ride there, did you?” she pressed.

He shook his head. “Of course not. I rode to the county in the company of my friend and then took the coach. But the snow followed me all the way here.”

“I see. And how is she?” Elizabeth asked, her concern evident.

“When I am with her, she is well enough. She still refuses to speak to her brother. He has warned her that if she does not improve, they will travel to visit her aunt in Rosings,” he replied.

Elizabeth frowned. “I worry that if she is in proximity to Mr Collins, Charlotte will not be able to hold him to his promise.”

“That is precisely why we cannot let that happen,” he said. “I must devise some solution.”

Elizabeth smiled at the realisation that Thomas was no longer denying his clandestine visits to Georgiana Darcy.

This marked his fifth visit in seven weeks, and she had thought time would soon run out.

She was surprised that Mr Darcy had even chosen to stay in London for so long.

With the snowfall in the north, she assumed he was reluctant to travel under such conditions.

It was mid-February now, and in a few weeks, they would be able to journey north without complication.

Yet, she surmised that Darcy did not wish to expose his sister to any risk, which was why he had chosen to keep her secluded, viewing her well-being as paramount.

“And Mr Darcy, how does he fare?” she asked.

“I am surprised you enquire; you have not uttered his name in quite some time,” he observed.

Elizabeth merely shrugged; it was indeed true she had refrained from mentioning Mr Darcy lately, yet thoughts of him lingered.

She often reminisced about their conversations in the library at Netherfield, or the afternoon when she injured her ankle, or that evening at the Netherfield ball.

Each encounter left her with a sense of genuine fondness, but now, uncertainty clouded her feelings.

“Georgiana informs me that he is quite miserable. She overheard him confiding in Bingley, who is in quite a dudgeon. He drinks too much, eats too little, and seldom ventures out. Darcy seems genuinely concerned for him.”

“Why is that?” Elizabeth queried, intrigued.

“Georgiana thinks he genuinely regrets separating from Jane, yet he is too proud to admit it.”

“I am surprised she holds any affection for her brother,” Elizabeth remarked.

“She loves him dearly. But…” Thomas trailed off, his expression thoughtful.

Elizabeth smiled and placed her hand over his. “But she loves you more?”

“I just—” he paused, “she wishes me to know that her brother is not a bad man, that he harbours many demons. After hearing what she has shared, I cannot entirely fault him for his actions. Yet, I find it difficult to extend any favourable thoughts towards him due to the misery he has wrought upon us all. Not all of it rests upon his shoulders, for he is a product of his circumstances.”

Elizabeth frowned and leaned back in her chair. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean to say, Darcy faced a difficult upbringing.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Elizabeth replied, surprised. “Living at Pemberley, with a London townhouse, and a wealthy grandfather?”

Thomas smiled knowingly. “I dare say wealth does not guarantee happiness. From what I gather, he was happy—but the roots of his grievances seem to stem from jealousy.”

Elizabeth listened quietly, absorbing his words.

“He was his father’s only son and quite close to him, but according to Georgiana, once Wickham entered their lives, he became the late Mr Darcy’s favoured child.

Darcy was often cast aside, as all his father’s attention gravitated towards Wickham, which fostered resentment.

Even Georgiana appeared bewitched by him, for Wickham was mischievous and charming, while Darcy was seen as quite the opposite—responsible yet rigid. ”

“It’s no wonder he cultivated such a sense of responsibility; he was raised to be that way,” Elizabeth said, surprising herself with her defence of Mr Darcy.

Thomas nodded. “Indeed, the same dynamics persisted during their time at Cambridge. Many of Darcy’s former friends abandoned him for Wickham, drawn to the latter’s inclination to indulge and enjoy life rather than commit to his studies. He was also quite generous with his finances.”

“That does sound like Mr Wickham,” Elizabeth mused. “Generous with money that belongs to another.”

“Precisely. Georgiana confided that her brother often felt inadequate, as though he was never enough.”

“I suppose when he arrived here, he sensed a familiar pattern developing,” Elizabeth concluded.

“How does Georgiana understand all of this? Surely, as a child, she could not have grasped the entirety of it?” Thomas asked.

“Some of it she witnessed herself; other pieces were recounted by her cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” he explained. “In any case, she believes that her brother was jealous of me. That is not something I ever thought I would experience. A gentleman envious. Of me.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said, her understanding dawning. “Because you and Mr Bingley have become rather close, haven’t you?”

“Indeed, though it was not my intention to come between them. In truth, I do not think Bingley regards me as a better friend than Darcy. I hope that, over time, we will become closer, yet we have not exchanged words since he departed Netherfield. He never mentioned leaving, which I would have thought a true friend should do. Nevertheless, when Georgiana and I started to grow closer, he must have interpreted it as a repeat of what transpired when Wickham entered their lives. Everyone favoured him.”

“Do you know what transpired between Mr Wickham and Georgiana?” she asked.

Thomas frowned, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Elizabeth replied, “Two years ago, Mr Wickham cunningly attempted to charm Georgiana into believing herself in love with him, persuading her to elope, so they could wed and he could seize the Darcy fortune for himself.”

“Good heavens!” Thomas exclaimed, clenching his fists. “That weasel! Poor Georgiana…”

“She was blissfully unaware. Mr Darcy uncovered Mr Wickham’s intentions and intervened before he could execute his plan, ensuring that Mr Wickham was never allowed near her again.”

“Well, that is a relief,” Thomas said, nodding. “I would not have wished her to suffer such a fate.”

“Yet Darcy must see me as some sort of monster now,” Thomas continued, a pained expression crossing his face. “I never would have intended for any of this…” he paused. “If only he could see that I wish to be with Georgiana…”

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you never would have?”

“Nothing, Elizabeth,” he said quickly, cutting off the conversation. “It is late. I must retire. It has been a long day, and you should rest as well. Do not fret, all shall be well eventually. I hope these revelations regarding Darcy may soften your sentiments, at least a fraction.”

“I hold no feelings for him, save for disdain,” she retorted, rising from her chair and meeting Thomas’s gaze.

“Indeed,” he replied, his tone laced with scepticism. “Of course, you do not. I must have been imagining things.”

“I assure you, you were mistaken. There was never anything between Mr Darcy and myself, nor shall there ever be.”

“Very well,” Thomas said, a note of resignation in his voice. “I shall bid you good night then. Until the morning.”

As he made his way back to his chamber, Elizabeth remained seated, grappling with thoughts that spun through her mind.

The truths concerning Mr Darcy’s past stirred an unexpected sympathy within her.

It provided context for his actions. If jealousy had been the driving force behind his behaviour, it would explain his choices and how he had perceived Thomas as a threat.

Yet he had chosen to gamble with the well-being of those he had left behind—Georgiana, Jane, and Mr Bingley—leaving them all deeply affected by his decisions.

She glanced again at Thomas’s door. His words lingered in her mind. What had he meant by never would have’? Confusion swept over her, and as she extinguished the candles, she made her way up to her chamber in darkness, emotions swirling within her more tumultuous than ever.