Page 10 of Mr. Darcy’s Forgotten Heir (Pride and Prejudice Variations #1)
CHAPTER SIX
SAFE HARBOR
The Honywood’s carriage pulled to a stop before a modest but well-maintained townhouse on Gracechurch Street.
Elizabeth stared out the window, momentarily paralyzed by uncertainty.
The journey from the Red Lion had passed in a blur of anxious thoughts and polite conversation, her mind constantly returning to Darcy.
Where was he? What had happened on the road? Why hadn’t he returned as promised?
“Here we are, my dear,” Mrs. Honywood said kindly. “Your uncle’s house, I believe?”
Elizabeth nodded, gathering what remained of her composure. “Yes. Thank you both for your extraordinary kindness. I cannot express?—”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Honywood interrupted with a gentle wave. “Any decent person would have done the same.”
But they wouldn’t have, Elizabeth knew. Most people would have looked away, pretended not to notice her predicament. The Honywoods had shown her what true Christian charity looked like.
“Will you at least come inside? My aunt and uncle would wish to thank you properly. ”
The elderly couple exchanged a glance. “I think not,” Mrs. Honywood said. “Best you have privacy for your reunion. But do tell them that Albert Honywood of Bellfield Grange brought you safely. The name may mean something to your uncle, given his business connections.”
Their footman deposited her trunk, and Elizabeth pressed a coin into his hand, thanking him for keeping Darcy’s writing desk undamaged.
She bid them farewell, waving until their carriage disappeared around the corner before approaching the door.
They had been kind and gracious, not asking her too many questions while entertaining her with stories of lost lambs and their talented sheepdogs.
Her hand trembled as she lifted the knocker.
Her visit would be unexpected. She doubted her parents had sent an express ahead of her if they had meant to deposit her at the Red Lion and return with the maid and footman, two who had recently entered their employment.
By now, they had likely split her modest savings and disappeared into the heath.
How would she explain her presence to her aunt and uncle? Were they even home? The smoke spiraling out of the chimney reassured her, as did the warm glow of lamplight from the windows. The front door opened before she could knock. Aunt Gardiner’s face was surprised but welcoming.
“Lizzy!” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, pulling her into a warm embrace before Elizabeth could even speak.
“My dear girl, what has happened? You look—” Her voice faltered, her eyes taking in Elizabeth’s weary face, her travel-stained gown, and the heavy trunk resting in the snow. “Come in, child, come in at once.”
The warmth of the house enveloped Elizabeth like an embrace, along with the familiar scents of her aunt’s cooking and the beeswax polish Mrs. Gardiner used on her furniture. It was so different from the cold rejection she had experienced at Longbourn that she felt tears threaten once again .
“Aunt Gardiner, I’m sorry to arrive without warning. I hope I’m not imposing?—”
“Nonsense,” her aunt interrupted. “You are always welcome here, you know that. But Elizabeth, you look as though you haven’t slept in days.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as tears spilled down her cheeks. “I had nowhere else to go.”
Mrs. Gardiner drew her into a fierce embrace. “Then you’ve come to exactly the right place. Edward! Edward, come quickly!”
Her uncle emerged from his study. Alarm crossed his features as he took in the scene. “Lizzy? What in heaven’s name?—”
“Not here,” Mrs. Gardiner interrupted, keeping an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Let’s go to the study. Mrs. Miller, please bring tea. And perhaps keep the children occupied for a little while.”
Elizabeth allowed herself to be guided to her uncle’s book-lined sanctuary. Mr. Gardiner closed the door behind them, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Now then,” Mrs. Gardiner said, taking the chair beside Elizabeth’s and reaching for her hands. “Tell us what has brought you to London. Are your parents well? Your sisters?”
The mention of her family caused Elizabeth’s carefully constructed composure to crumble. “My parents are… that is, I am no longer…” She took a shuddering breath and tried again. “I am no longer welcome at Longbourn.”
The Gardiners exchanged glances heavy with meaning. Mr. Gardiner’s expression grew grave as he took his seat across from them.
“What has my sister done now?” he asked quietly, and the resignation in his voice suggested this was not entirely unexpected.
“She cast me out,” Elizabeth said baldly, finding that directness was easier than attempting to soften the blow. “Three days ago. I refused Mr. Collins’s proposal, and she decided I was too selfish to deserve a home or family.”
Her aunt gasped softly, but her uncle merely closed his eyes briefly, as if in pain.
“They hired a coach to take me to you, but the driver abandoned me at the Red Lion Inn in Barnet. The footman and lady’s maid disappeared with my traveling money.” Elizabeth twisted her hands in her lap. “I believe they were instructed to leave me there.”
“My sister did this?” Mr. Gardiner’s voice was dangerously low. “And your father allowed it?”
“He did nothing to stop it,” Elizabeth confirmed, the memory still raw. “He stood on the steps and watched as I was sent away.”
Mrs. Gardiner made a sound of distress. “And your sisters? Surely Jane?—”
“Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia all protested. They ran after the coach until I lost sight of them. But they have no power.” Elizabeth swallowed hard.
“My mother said I was an ungrateful child who deserved to starve in the hedgerows for refusing to secure the entail. Mr. Bennet must have allowed it. He always agrees with Mrs. Bennet if her nerves scream loud enough.”
Her uncle rose abruptly and walked to the window, his shoulders rigid with anger. “I have long known my sister to be foolish, but this…” He shook his head. “This is beyond comprehension.”
“How did you reach us, Lizzy?” Mrs. Gardiner asked gently. “If you were abandoned at Barnet without funds?”
Elizabeth’s fingers closed around the signet ring she wore on the thumb. She kept the seal side inside her palm. The mention of Darcy, even peripherally, brought tears to her eyes.
“Forgive me, but I need some time to compose myself.” Her shoulders shook as she lowered her head, trying with all her might not to dissolve into tears.
Her aunt exchanged a concerned glance with her uncle and rose to sit beside her. “Dear, let’s take some tea. Would you prefer your uncle to depart while you tell me?”
“Uncle should hear, but… it is delicate.” She stifled a sob, welcoming the teacup fr om Mrs. Miller.
She inhaled the sweet scent of the spiced tea and fortified herself, closing her eyes. “The storm was terrible, and the inn was full. I could not get a room, and…”
She paused. Her face heated with shame at her condition, entirely alone and vulnerable, had Darcy not intervened. The whole situation was so far beyond the bounds of propriety that even thinking about it made her feel faintly ill.
But she had to tell her uncle, if only to send out a search party.
“A gentleman intervened when I was in danger.” The words stumbled out as she dared not look at her uncle. “He offered me shelter.”
Her aunt and uncle exchanged a glance, understanding the implications immediately.
“This gentleman,” Mr. Gardiner said carefully. “He behaved honorably, I trust?”
“He did,” Elizabeth replied, forcing herself to meet her uncle’s gaze. “More honorably than I could have expected.”
“Where is this gentleman? Did his coach bring you here? Why didn’t he come to introduce himself?” Her uncle asked the very reasonable questions.
“He’s… he… could be injured. I don’t know where he went.” Elizabeth dabbed at her eyes.
Another heavy silence fell. Elizabeth could see her aunt and uncle struggling to interpret her meaning without leaping to conclusions that might embarrass them all.
“Perhaps Lizzy should rest,” Aunt Gardiner said, moving to pull the bell for the maid.
“No, the gentleman needs assistance.” Elizabeth decided to let the words tumble from her lips.
“We married this morning, but when he went to get a carriage, he never returned. The innkeeper and other travelers said there was a gentleman attacked by highwaymen. Varying accounts. No one could say, and then I had to leave. Another gentleman, a militia officer, asked me to join his party. I escaped the Red Lion with the Honywoods, a respectable couple from Yorkshire.”
“Ah, yes, I know the Honywoods,” Mr. Gardiner said. “I buy their wool, but can you tell us how you are married when you are not yet one and twenty?”
“I had to. There was no time…” She could not meet their gazes, overcome by shame.
She would never regret the circumstances.
If her parents had not cast her out… Darcy had treated her with more kindness than she deserved.
“We married this morning by special license. Reverend Michaels, witnessed by the innkeeper and his wife.”
“Did he give you copies of the certificate?” Aunt Gardiner asked.
“No time. Darcy had the receipt and an unofficial confirmation.”
“Did you say, Darcy?” her aunt exclaimed. “Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire?”
“Yes, Fitzwilliam.” She turned the heavy gold ring on her thumb for them to see. “He gave me his signet ring.”
Her aunt and uncle studied the ring with its engraved crest, their expressions troubled.
“You believe me, don’t you?” Elizabeth asked, suddenly desperate for confirmation. “You don’t think I’ve invented this story out of… of desperation or madness?”
Mrs. Gardiner moved to sit beside her, taking her hands firmly. “Of course, we believe you, my dear. But the world is not always so trusting, especially when considerable fortunes are involved.”