Page 32 of London Holiday (Sweet Escapes Collection #2)

Chapter thirty-two

“ U ncle, please, say something !” Elizabeth pressed her back against the squab of her uncle’s carriage and cringed, waiting for the accusations she deserved.

Mr Gardiner sighed, stretching his tall frame in the very seat where drugged, helpless Fitzwilliam Darcy had been crammed only the night before. “Lizzy, what shall I say? Dare I congratulate you on losing Collins as a suitor? On having the grand adventure in Town you longed for? What have you gained for your wantonness?”

She shifted her toes on the floor. “It was not what it must seem, Uncle.”

“Then pray, tell me, Elizabeth, what am I to think? Did you go with this man willingly and alone? Do you truly think that simply because he was not dressed as a gentleman, no one will ever speak of it? That it will not become the tittle-tattle of London?”

“I know you doubt me, but I believe my reputation is safe. Even Mr Collins will be too intimidated to speak, for what you and Mr Darcy both threatened him with was sufficient to inspire a mortal terror in him.”

“He is certainly not the only person who could testify to your foolishness. I mean to call on this Mr Darcy again to see what must be done to ensure that nothing more is said.”

“Oh, Uncle, please do not! It would be more harmful to his interests even than ours, if anything comes of it, and what more unavoidable way than to intrude upon his notice again? Would that not generate intrigue, if someone is indeed seeking to create a scandal? Better to let the matter rest and have nothing more to do with him, for good or ill.”

“You seem to place a great deal of faith in your understanding of the man. How do you have such confidence in his discretion?”

Her lip curved, her shoulder tipped, and she shook her head. “I spent more hours learning his character than I have with any other man outside of you or Papa. I saw him at his lowest. He was not always agreeable, which I took as evidence of his truthfulness. I should not have trusted him so, had he flattered my vanity from the outset, but he never did. I believe him to be genuine, Uncle.”

“A wealthy gentleman masquerading as a servant! You think him free of deceit and guile?”

“More so than anyone I have ever known. You are perhaps right to doubt, Uncle, but I believe my faith in him will not be unjustified. If there is any threat to my reputation or his, it will not be because he did not guard it.”

Mr Gardiner shook his head. “I still cannot understand why you would undertake such chicanery. You will claim it was all done out of charity, to help some poor soul who was put upon by his wicked relations, or perhaps excuse yourself by saying you wished to avoid Collins at home, but Lizzy, think of what might have happened!”

“Nothing did happen, Uncle. I never had any fear that anything would, either.”

He kneaded his eyes, and she felt a stab of pity. Her poor, weary uncle, and after his terrible day, he had been forced to reckon with her crisis! “Tell me what you were thinking, Lizzy. You are a sensible girl, or I always thought you to be. How hard is it for a cad to work upon an intelligent young lady?”

“He is no cad. Perhaps that is where one must begin. I do not pretend that I am infallible, Uncle, but in nearly every way, he was the perfect gentleman and guardian.”

“‘Nearly’ every way? What was this chink in his shining livery?”

Every remembrance of pleasure fled. Before her, she could still drink in his tender look, see his loving eyes half closed, feel the soft brush of his mouth, and hear the ardent plea in his voice. And then, that insulting offer, that dash of salt on her exposed heart, and that proof that he was not, after all, the complete fulfilment of the image she had crafted for him.

“Lizzy? What sort of face is that? He must have offended you in some way or another.”

She shook her head. “Nothing of import, Uncle. A gentleman is still a man, after all, and I suppose none of them are perfect.”

“Knaves and wretches, to a man. Remember that, Lizzy, when you do marry, and give the poor soul the same generosity of spirit you seem to have bestowed on this Darcy fellow. By the by, you must still inform your father of this on Friday when you go home. When he learns of it, I doubt you shall be permitted out of Longbourn’s drawing room until the day your parents find you a husband, and God help you all in that search. I hope it all comes right, Lizzy. I am sorry to say that we shall have to curtail any further plans you had for amusement while here in Town.”

She leaned her head against the glass as the city rolled by. “I have seen enough of London for a lifetime, Uncle. It was a holiday I shall never forget.”

The house on Gracechurch street looked the same as it had two days earlier. For no reason he could describe, this struck Darcy as novel. Why should everything not be different? He was admitted with little ceremony and duly presented his card for Mr Gardiner.

As he waited, he would have been a cur not to confess that his ears strained for any sound from the family rooms or the stair. Was she still a resident of the house? Or had she already made her return to Hertfordshire, where she must be once again lodged in the apartment above some humble Meryton shop? Perhaps her father was the local bookseller—that would account for her great literacy and intelligence. Or perhaps a curate, or a steward for some generous landowner—either would have taught her that consideration for others and her understanding and sense.

No sound was forthcoming, save the scraping of a door behind him, where Mr Gardiner himself stood to welcome him into the study. “Mr Darcy,” he offered a slight, but respectful bow. “Please, do come in.”

“Thank you for seeing me, Mr Gardiner.” Darcy followed the man and was shown to a perfectly suitable study, lined with various sorts of books and furnished with understated quality. Darcy glanced about with approval and accepted the seat which was offered.

“Mr Darcy,” Gardiner began, “I must say, I remain curious about the events of two days ago. How was it that when I was not to be found, you and my niece took it upon yourselves to wait elsewhere and without any sort of chaperon? Why should her safety and her reputation have been jeopardised as they were?”

Darcy’s toes curled within his boots. “These are fair questions, sir. Miss Elizabeth must already have informed you of her desire to avoid the house and the reason for it.”

“Indeed, and while I can hardly blame her, I cannot condone either her actions or yours. If she was so desirous of avoiding Collins, she could have remained within her room rather than taking up with a stranger.”

“Mr Gardiner, I understand and accept your accusations of ungentlemanly conduct. Allow me to assure you that Miss Elizabeth has earned my highest respect, and I sought to protect her, and her reputation, as vigilantly as I do my own sister’s.”

Gardiner studied him gravely. “Why did you come to speak to me today, Mr Darcy? I have already sent a signed statement to the earl, concurring with your account of having passed the night in this house rather than your own. What more would you request?”

“I came to offer my gratitude,” he answered in a quiet voice. “Both to yourself and to Miss Elizabeth, if I may. ”

“Lizzy is upstairs even now, preparing for her departure. She leaves for Hertfordshire within the hour, and when I asked if she would receive company, she declined.”

Darcy felt as if all the air had rushed from his lungs and could not understand why. Had he really counted so desperately upon seeing her one last time? “I am sorry to hear that,” he managed, a little roughly. He looked down to his hands, uncertain what he was next to say.

“Lizzy will naturally inform her family of her… high jinks. However, from all I can see, her reputation has been spared. I understand you protected her adequately both while in Town and in the presence of your own relations. For that, I must owe you something of my own gratitude, though I have not forgotten that you were the man to have placed her at risk. I presume your own circumstances have been brought to order?’

He released a low sigh. “Not so thoroughly as I would wish. My character has been cleared, with much gratitude to yourself, but there remain certain unavoidable matters which demand the exercise of duty.”

Gardiner frowned. “May I wish you the very best in your endeavours, sir.” He rose, signalling that the interview was over.

“If I may ask one thing, sir,” Darcy interjected as he stood. “Miss Elizabeth—her prospects are not in any way damaged?”

Gardiner permitted a twitch of his cheek. “I daresay no more than they already were by matters which were beyond her control. You may be easy, sir, for my niece assured me that she would not seek any sort of recompense from you for the risks she undertook. You are free to concern yourself only with your duty to your own family.”

Darcy drew a slow breath of freedom… and it stabbed him like an arrow. “I… I understand.”

“Good day, Mr Darcy.”

Darcy bowed his farewell and moved toward the door. His feet were numb, even more so than when they had been pinched and blistered by the wrong shoes. It was as if they simply refused to carry him away from her, but his mind had decreed that he was to go, and so his body shuffled on without them. Could he not have at least bade her farewell?

A noise sounded on the stair, and he turned in that direction full of hope. It was only two men, carrying a travelling trunk down the steps. He closed his eyes, then one last desperate attempt turned him back.

“Mr Gardiner, sir, Miss Elizabeth informed me that you take pleasure in the Lake District. When next you journey North, I hope you will consider stopping in Derbyshire.”

The man’s face warmed. “We always spend a day or two, at least. Mrs Gardiner lived many years in Lambton, sir, and she frequently toured Pemberley as a girl. She took me back there last year, and a fine estate it is.”

“Indeed! Lambton? I hope you shall someday visit again. I understand you are a proficient angler, and I would be honoured to provide you with tackle and bait if you should like to try my trout stream or the lake.”

“I thank you, Mr Darcy, perhaps I shall.”

Gardiner offered no more than this cautious acceptance, and there was nothing else he could think to say to delay his departure. With one more conscious sweep of the doors and corridors of the house, Darcy surrendered. “I hope so, sir. Good day.”

“He asked after me?” Elizabeth sat down heavily in the padded chair opposite her uncle. “I am surprised.”

“Why should you be? Mr Darcy is known to be a gentleman, and I believe he took an interest in your welfare. It was no less than one would expect, after all.”

She shook her head, slightly dazed. “I simply did not expect to hear of him ever again. I thought your business was complete, and he had sent that handsome box of cigars and brandy in a show of his appreciation.”

“Those were for me. Ladies do not often value a good smoke or drink so well as they do a kind word, and he came to offer it. Altogether, Lizzy, I suppose it could have been far worse. You could have been found with a rake.”

“I knew he was not a rake from the first, Uncle,” she tried to smile. “But I cannot decide whether I am pleased that he called or not. It is at an end, is it not? Nothing more can come, and I always did hate farewells. They seem the end of everything pleasant and hopeful. I am glad I did not come down before when he was here.”

“It was for the best,” her uncle agreed. “A dreadful risk you took, Lizzy, but I suppose when you were already facing Collins as your best prospect, the fanciful mind of a young lady feels there is no farther to sink.”

“I was wrong. I know that, Uncle. You and my aunt have been gentler than I deserve.”

“Perhaps that is because your foolishness was in the service of another, or perhaps because your aunt has a touch of sentiment for Mr Darcy’s family. They’ve a good reputation in Derbyshire, you know, and though she would die before confessing it, I believe she was flattered that one of our family did a good turn for they who have always been so good to others.”

“I see.” Elizabeth twined her fingers and hesitated. “And Mr Darcy… has it all come right for him? Did he speak on that at all?”

“He said that he still had a duty to his family and did not seem best pleased to be fulfilling that obligation.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth’s fingers clenched one another until the knuckles were white. At that moment, she resolved not to look at her father’s papers for at least six months, or as long as it would take for all the gossip and marriage announcements to die away. Poor Mr Darcy, after all his dread and proven innocence, to be bound by the one who had entrapped him! That such a good and noble man must be sentenced to a life with one who respected him so little seemed to her nothing less than a statement of the general unfairness of the world.

“Excuse me, Uncle,” she whispered, “I think I must finish my preparations for departure.”

“Of course, Lizzy. I am sorry I cannot go with you, but your aunt will offer whatever support or counsel you might require when you return home.”

She nodded, sensing a blockade of tears threatening to spill from her eyes if she tried to blink. “Thank you, Uncle.”

The streets of London were grey as she looked out upon them. No character remained to be experienced that she had not already savoured, no prospect illuminated her way that she had not previously shared with better company. She suspected it would always be so, for once a light is kindled, then extinguished, the observer is forever after aware of the present darkness of their surroundings. Would that she could remain in that vibrant place, full of colour and life! There had been a way; he had spoken of it, asked her if she would—

But no… to do so would be to sacrifice her character, her integrity—all she had left. She could not do it, even for him, and he would not love her for it, even if he thought himself satisfied. She would not remain herself, and he would have been the cause.

Even then, she had sensed the notion was as shocking to him as it was to herself. He did not seem the sort of man to ask for carte blanche , and he had even defended her from that accusation before his family. However, his desires had been obvious, and had clearly shaken him so, that when he acknowledged that he could not have her by honourable means, any alternative might have presented itself in the moment as eligible. Surely, he had already thought better of it, and she had made up her mind to forgive him for it… so long as she never had to look on him again .

He would be married, and likely very soon. Another woman would be his comfort, would hold her babe and see his eyes gazing back… Elizabeth stifled a gasp and hoped her aunt and sister did not notice that she would only look out the window as the carriage rolled through the city.

Yes, she could live without Fitzwilliam Darcy. So long as she never had to face him again.