Mr. Darcy's Letter

  The manservant cleared his throat. “Mr. Darcy also left something which he said is yours, with instructions to give it to you after you had read his letter.” He motioned outside the door, and the kitchen maid stepped in, cradling a squirming bundle of black and white fur.

  “Here you go, miss.” The girl held out the puppy to her. “Oh, he’s a sweet one, he is.”

  Elizabeth took the puppy in trembling hands. He cuddled against her chest and looked up at her with hopeful dark eyes, just as he had that day in the barn at Netherfield when Darcy had been by her side. She buried her face in his fluffy fur, no longer able to hold back a sob.

  A warm, scratchy tongue tickled her fingers. She laughed shakily through her tears, and the puppy’s wet nose nuzzled into her neck. “Oh, what am I to do with you?” she asked. The puppy licked her face.

  “Will there be any response for Mr. Darcy?” the manservant asked.

  Elizabeth hugged the puppy closely, her arms trembling. “Tell Mr. Darcy I will see him.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Darcy stood outside the iron railing in front of the Gardiners’ house, watching the passers-by as if it were his normal custom to loiter on the streets of Cheapside. He silently damned Elizabeth for putting him in this humiliating situation, but almost immediately turned his anger on himself. How could he have been such a fool?

  Bingley was a grown man and responsible for himself. If his foolishness had cost him Elizabeth, he would never forgive himself, both for losing her and for the impossible situation in which he had placed her by his loss of self-control that day at Netherfield. He did not want Elizabeth forced to marry him because of his behaviour, but at this point he would accept even that if only it meant she would give him another chance. And if she did, he would never allow anything to separate them, not Wickham or Bingley or anyone else. He had learned his lesson, and by God it was a painful one. But if Elizabeth were resolutely set against him, there was nothing he could do. Nothing except to live with the pain of having known her love for only those brief few days, and to spend the rest of his life knowing what he had lost.

  He pulled his watch out of his pocket and inspected it. Only five minutes had passed since he had last checked it, but it felt more like hours. She must have finished his letter by now, if she indeed had been willing to read it at all, but the door to the house stayed stubbornly shut. He would wait for half an hour more, he decided. If she sent no message in that time, it was hopeless. He kicked his heel back against the railing, uncaring of the scuff mark on his boot that would no doubt bring down his valet’s wrath later on.

  Open, damn you, he told the door silently. Open.

  As if in response to his silent order, the door opened and the old man who had taken his letter reappeared.

  Darcy had to force himself to walk to the stoop at a dignified pace. Hurrying would not change the answer. He tapped his cane against the step and said, “Well?”

  The man’s broad smile displayed several missing teeth. “Miss Bennet will see you now.”

  Darcy, his heart pounding, handed him his hat and cane, then followed him to the sitting room he remembered so well. The last time he had seen Elizabeth in that sitting room, he had held hope in his heart.

  Now he barely dared to hope at all.

  Her eyes reddened, Elizabeth clutched the puppy, who was making a valiant attempt to lick her entire face.

  Belatedly she rose to her feet, but Darcy did not know how to read her expression. She was distressed, that was certain, but was she prepared to forgive him? He felt a stab of irrational jealousy of the ball of fur she cradled so close to her.

  His mouth was dry. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  A tear trickled down her cheek. “I do not know what to say.”

  He could not bear it. In three strides he crossed the room and enfolded her in his arms, puppy and all, ignoring the discomfort in his arm. “Tell me you still care for me, and that is all I need. I will do whatever I must to resolve this.”

  Her shoulders shook and she buried her head against his shoulder. The puppy, now trapped between them, began to yap.

  “Hush,” he told it sternly, to absolutely no avail. The puppy continued to yap as if he had discovered some fine new game to play with these humans.

  Elizabeth laughed shakily and kissed the puppy’s head. “Of course I still love you,” she said, her voice barely loud enough to hear through the racket. “That never changed, only my belief in our future. If you truly still want me, I am yours.”

  “I will never cease to want you.” Darcy paused to disentangle the puppy from Elizabeth and set him on the floor, then pulled Elizabeth into a tight embrace. He could not find words enough to express his need for her, so he kissed her instead, the way a man dying of thirst drinks water. The stabbing pain in his arm was nothing compared to the joy he felt.

  It was, however, enough to remind him that this should go no farther than kisses. He released her, but grasped her hands tightly in his, trying to find the courage to speak his piece. “Elizabeth, I cannot bear to be parted from you again. Marry me today, and stay with me always. I have a license and ring, and all we would need to do is to secure a man of the cloth to perform the ceremony.”

  “Today?” Elizabeth laughed at the idea, clearly not taking it seriously. “I grant you it is a pleasing idea, but my family might not agree.”

  “Please, Elizabeth,” he urged, his eyes fixed on her. “This is important to me, and it will protect both of our reputations in light of the current gossip.”

  “I will not allow a little gossip to determine my behaviour,” she said. “I agree it is difficult to wait, but I do wish to have my family around me at our wedding.”

  The manservant appeared in the doorway and cleared his throat. “Colonel Fitzwilliam is here to see Miss Bennet. He apologizes for the hour, but says it is a matter of some urgency. Are you at home, Miss?”

  Elizabeth gave Darcy a concerned glance. “Please show him in.”

  Richard’s appearance, normally impeccable, indicated he had not taken his usual time to attend to his attire.

  “Darcy, you deuced idiot! I thought you might be here. What in God’s name were you thinking?” He added in a perfunctory manner, “Begging your pardon, Miss Bennet.”

  Darcy placed his left hand over his eyes. “Richard, this is neither the time nor the place….”

  “You are the one who chose this time and place. What did you expect me to do when I discovered you were not only out of bed, but had left the house, and without even a sling on your arm? Sit down, damn you, before you fall.”

  To Elizabeth’s astonishment, Darcy sat. Only then did she notice the pallor of his face was far beyond that of a sleepless night. “What is the matter?” she demanded.

  When Darcy did not respond, Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “What is the matter? The matter is that Darcy is under strict doctor’s orders to remain in bed and under no circumstances to use his arm, but the damned fool refuses to listen.”

  Horrified, Elizabeth turned to Darcy. “Is this true?”

  Darcy did not meet her eyes. “My cousin is prone to exaggeration. As I told you, the injury is but trifling.”

  “Balderdash,” snapped the colonel.

  Elizabeth said evenly, “Colonel Fitzwilliam, perhaps you can tell me about this trifling injury of which I knew nothing until this morning.”

  “He did not tell you? That damned George Wickham winged him. It would probably be half-healed by now if he didn’t keep pretending nothing happened and using the arm. We had to send for the doctor for him again yesterday.”

  “Richard, that is quite enough!” Darcy snapped.

  Elizabeth rounded on him. “You fought Wickham?”

  He nodded shamefacedly. “Do not worry. He came out of it worse than I.”

  Elizabeth looked questioningly at Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was clearly a better source of information than Darcy.

  “Darcy hit him in the hip. He was not shooting to kill, though
God alone knows why not. Wickham was, but he was as incompetent at that as everything else he sets his hand to. At least he will never walk on that leg again.”

  She shivered at the idea of how close death had come to the man she loved, longing for the comfort of being in his arms. “Mr. Darcy, please, I hope you will rest, for my sake if for nothing else. Is there anything I can do for your comfort?”

  Darcy glared at his cousin. “Apart from certain troublesome relatives, I am perfectly comfortable.”

  The clatter of quick footsteps and children’s voices in the hall announced the return of the family. Mrs.

  Gardiner appeared in the doorway, a concerned expression on her face as she looked from Elizabeth to Darcy and back again. “Lizzy, I had not realized you were expecting company.”

  Elizabeth flushed. “Mr. Darcy has explained himself to my satisfaction and we are reconciled. Colonel Fitzwilliam just arrived.” She noticed that Darcy had risen to his feet, but was holding onto the back of his chair with his left hand.

  The colonel must have noticed the same thing, since he bowed gracefully to Mrs. Gardiner and said, “Madam, I am already imposing abominably on your hospitality by appearing without an invitation, but I must compound my ill manners by asking even more of your generosity. My over-proud cousin is injured and is supposed to be resting with his arm immobilized. Might I impose so far as to ask if you have a room where he might rest?”

  “Richard, that is completely unnecessary!” Darcy snapped.

  Mrs. Gardiner exchanged a glance with Elizabeth. Mrs. Gardiner said, “Of course. I will make arrangements immediately. Would it be of assistance if I located some linen for a sling?”

  The colonel’s agreement drowned out Darcy’s dissent. “Madam, I see you are a lady after my own heart.

  Darcy, do stop being a fool. Your bride-to-be deserves better.”

  Elizabeth laid her hand over Darcy’s. “Whether it is necessary or not, it would ease my mind if you would rest. Will you do it for my sake?”

  Darcy’s glower subsided at the sight of her concerned face. “As long as you marry me, I will do anything you request.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam depressed one eyelid in a slow wink at Elizabeth, who tactfully failed to notice.

  Mrs. Gardiner led Darcy out of the room. Once their footsteps had faded away, Elizabeth remembered the puppy. It was nowhere to be seen. Hurriedly she looked about, and found it curled up asleep in her aunt’s favourite armchair. She breathed a sigh of relief that it had done no apparent damage.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Miss Bennet. I am not normally an intemperate man, but convincing my cousin that he needs to take care would drive a saint mad.”

  “So I see! He is not, I take it, accustomed to being ruled by others.”

  The colonel laughed. “Not in the least. Under usual circumstances, this is not an issue, since he has the means to do whatever he likes, but it is difficult to convince him that he cannot simply tell his arm to heal, and that he must follow doctor’s orders.”

  “And you are the one appointed to ensure that he does so?”

  “I am one of the few people he will listen to, so nursemaid duty falls to me. In fact, his butler asked my assistance yesterday since he felt Darcy was endangering his health by going out. I had thought he would do better if I stayed with him at Darcy House, but obviously I underestimated him. I am starting to think that I should post an armed guard at his door!”

  “How serious is his injury?”

  “It is not dangerous to his health as of yet, but if he continues to ignore it, that may change.”

  Taken aback, Elizabeth said, “Whatever possessed him to fight Mr. Wickham?”

  “An excellent question, and one that I asked as well. Dueling a steward’s son, who deserves no such respect! What was he thinking? Darcy wanted Wickham to leave the country, but Wickham refused. Darcy thought that he would change his tune when looking down the barrel of a pistol. Wickham thought Darcy would never dare shoot him, and that he would have an easy target. Both were wrong. Wickham did not back down, and once he had hit Darcy, my cousin’s restraint was at an end.”

  “Where is Mr. Wickham now?”

  “He is convalescing and soon to board a ship to India, since he is no longer in a condition to refuse to do anything.”

  A thought crossed Elizabeth’s mind. “Is Mr. Darcy permitted to write?”

  “No, but that has not been a problem, since he has a perfectly competent secretary.”

  “He has been writing to me, and not through his secretary.” All those letters whose brevity had worried her, and now the missive he had given her today. She hated to think of the pain it must have cost him.

  The colonel sighed. “Perhaps I should move that armed guard to his bedside.”

  “Or…” Elizabeth paused. Was she truly prepared to do this? “Am I the reason he goes out?”

  “Apart from that idiotic attempt to rescue Bingley, I believe so.”

  Elizabeth stood and wandered to the mantelpiece. She took down the porcelain shepherdess and turned it in her hands. She had been fascinated by the details of it when she was a young girl, and had spent hours examining it and trying to ascertain how such a thing might have been made. The shepherdess had seemed the epitome of beauty and adulthood. Now she was grown, and adulthood was not as simple as she had thought it would be. She carefully set the shepherdess down again, adjusting it so that the figure seemed to be gazing out at the room.

  CHAPTER 26

  Over the next few hours, Darcy discovered that Mrs. Gardiner’s gentle exterior hid a will of steel. In short order he found himself reclining in bed, his coat removed and his sleeve rolled up nearly to the shoulder. She clucked her tongue when she unwrapped the bandage to reveal the angry wound, and called for a basin of hot water.

  “What is that ridiculous plaster smeared everywhere?”

  “My doctor says it will draw out the infection. He trained in Paris.”

  “Paris? That would explain it. The French are full of foolish ideas. Most likely it is making matters worse.

  No wonder he is worried for your health.”

  “You agree with him?”

  “I will have to clean it before I can give you my opinion.”

  Darcy frowned. Perhaps it was worse than he had believed. “I have told Elizabeth that I would like to marry her as quickly as possible.”

  Mrs. Gardiner raised her eyebrows at the apparent non-sequiter. “Did she agree to that?”

  Darcy gritted his teeth as she probed the skin around his wound. “No, she did not.”

  “Neither my husband nor her father are likely to favor you on that if she is against it.”

  “Yes, well, I would prefer not to trouble Elizabeth with my true reasoning. She thinks I am merely impatient. My doctor thinks I will most likely make a good recovery, but he has suggested that, in the unlikely case that he is incorrect, I should make sure my affairs are in order. This is one of them.”

  “I certainly hope you are acting only out of an excess of caution, but even were that the case, Lizzy might prefer not to be a widow as soon as she is a bride.”

  “Perhaps, but her financial situation would be more secure, and, well, there are other reasons that make it important. Her reputation, and other things.” Darcy vaguely realized he must be in rather worse condition than he had thought to have said even that much to Mrs. Gardiner.

  Mrs. Gardiner narrowed her eyes, then shook her head sadly. “You were foolish, then. Beyond foolish.”

  Darcy’s cheeks grew hot at her unexpectedly direct response. “That much is obvious even to me. The fact remains that I wish to marry Elizabeth now.”

  “That does put another complexion on the matter. Perhaps it would be simplest for you to explain matters to Elizabeth.”

  “And worry her further after what she has been through the past two days? Not unless I am forced to do so.”

  The maid appeared with a bowl of steaming water. S
he set it beside Mrs. Gardiner, who rolled a dry cloth into a tight twist and handed it to him before soaking a rag in the hot water. “You may want to bite down on this.” Without further ado, she proceeded to thoroughly clean the wound.

  By the time she finished, Darcy wished he had taken her advice about biting the cloth. His jaw ached from being clenched so tightly, and his arm burned as if she had poured salt into it. He accepted a sizeable glass of brandy which she offered him. “Thank you. This is not quite how I hoped to spend my day.”

  Mrs. Gardiner paused to smile at him. She gently wiped his forehead as if he were one of her children.