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Authors: M. A. Sandiford

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She knew not how long she remained in that position, but after a while there came a tap at the door, and Mrs Gardiner gently inquired whether she could be of any assistance. In the nursery the children were playing boisterously; Elizabeth hoped they had not heard her distress. Drying her eyes, she assured her aunt that she was well, and would be down shortly.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth had formed a desperate resolution, one she could not share even with her aunt and uncle. From Georgiana’s note it was plain that the Darcys wished to be left alone in their tribulations and shame.
She would not leave them alone.
Somehow she would persuade them to admit her to their inner circle, and reveal what had happened, why it had happened, and what if anything could be done.

Intermission

They found Sir Osborne Kaye pacing impatiently in a secluded corner of the heath. His second was a thin, anxious-looking young man who turned out to be his son, Arthur. A few yards away stood Mr Robert Fortescue, a sleek, silver-haired gentleman known to both parties who had agreed to serve as mediator.

After formal introductions, the seconds joined Fortescue for a consultation, leaving Sir Osborne glaring at Darcy. Returning, Fortescue opened the discussion:

‘Gentlemen, Sir Osborne is willing to accept that Mr Darcy broke into his room without realising that he was invading another gentleman’s privacy. The grievance is that upon discovering Sir Osborne within, Mr Darcy made no apology, and refused to withdraw from a situation that was not his business. If Mr Darcy will now agree to apologise for this insult, the challenge will be withdrawn and the matter forgotten.’ He turned to Sir Osborne, now flanked by his son. ‘Do I understand correctly, sir?’

Sir Osborne scowled back. ‘You do.’

‘From our side,’ Fitzwilliam replied, ‘we regret that my cousin unwittingly observed this unfortunate incident, and give an absolute undertaking of our secrecy. However, we feel that no insult to Sir Osborne was intended or given, and that hence no apology is due.’

Sir Osborne squared up to Fitzwilliam before replying: ‘Poppycock, sir. If one man intrudes on the privacy of another, he admits he is in the wrong and apologises. As simple as that.’

Fitzwilliam looked at Darcy, who decided it was time to intervene. ‘That would surely depend on the nature of the activity that was interrupted.’

Fortescue spread his arms. ‘We are men of the world, Mr Darcy. If another gentleman chooses to indulge in, ah, activities that you find disagreeable, perhaps it is best to turn a blind eye?’

Darcy felt a wave of revulsion at their smug indifference, and his face hardened as he turned back to Sir Osborne. ‘You disgust me. There will be no apology.’

Fortescue turned to Fitzwilliam. ‘Will you intercede?’

Fitzwilliam met his eye grimly. ‘I stand by my cousin’s decision.’

‘Very well.’ Fortescue shrugged, as if to wash his hands of the affair. ‘It seems regrettably that we must go ahead.’

Chapter 9

For a second time Elizabeth rang the bell of Darcy House, and was glad to recognise the footman Burgess.

‘Good morning, madam.’

‘Good morning. Is Miss Darcy at home?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You received Miss Darcy’s note, madam?’

‘I would like to speak with her nonetheless. Or with Colonel Fitzwilliam if he is here.’

He led her through to the drawing room, and she was impressed again by its size, and by the beauty of the Persian rug.

‘One moment, madam.’

Elizabeth made herself comfortable on a divan, and collected her thoughts. In essence her plan was simple: she wanted to see Darcy and press him for details of the duel, and the resulting prosecution; how hard she pressed would depend on his state of health. In conformity with her earlier resolution, she had told no-one about her visit. Exploiting the fortunate proximity of Darcy House to Cavendish Square, she had concealed her intentions from her aunt by declaring that she would call on Bridget—which was true so far as it went. The deception was upsetting, but she saw no alternative, fearing that Mr Gardiner, acting
in loco parentis
, might forbid any social contact with a man accused of murder.

Burgess returned to usher in Miss Darcy, whose appearance had changed shockingly. Her dress remained elegant, and her hair brushed and neatly pinned, but dark circles and puffy bags under her eyes spoke of sleepless nights, and she seemed in a daze of exhaustion and fear. Elizabeth’s heart went out to her, and ignoring propriety—for they were scarcely friends—she advanced to take both of Georgiana’s hands.

‘Oh Miss Darcy, is this not terrible?’

Miss Darcy blinked, tried unsuccessfully to reply, and then lost her composure completely, bursting into tears and falling into Elizabeth’s arms. They remained locked together for what seemed an age, and Elizabeth recalled that Georgiana had no mother to comfort her, nor perhaps any other female confidant.

Eventually they made their way to the divan, and Miss Darcy said in a small voice:

‘Miss Bennet, I’m so sorry for last time.’

Elizabeth squeezed her hand. ‘You were protecting your brother. It is I that should apologise for my intrusion.’

‘No, he was better for seeing you.’ She looked up tentatively, as if afraid to meet Elizabeth’s gaze. ‘Long before all this happened, he has spoken of his admiration of you, and his wish that we should meet.’ She tensed, and looked away again, before crying: ‘But I don’t understand you! My brother is all that is good and amiable. How could you reject a proposal of marriage from such a man? And having done so, why persist in seeking him out, so reminding him of his disappointment?’ She buried her head in her palms. ‘Excuse me, Miss Bennet, I know it is impertinent to speak so.’

‘On the contrary, I welcome your frankness.’ Elizabeth reflected for a while, before continuing: ‘In truth, I was also concerned that my last visit might upset Mr Darcy, just as you have suggested. But from your earlier note, inviting me to call again, this fear appears unwarranted.’

‘But what is it that you
want
?’ Georgiana demanded, in a voice edged with desperation.

Elizabeth smiled. ‘You are wondering perhaps whether I have had second thoughts about rejecting your brother’s proposal? Well, to return your frankness, my opinion of your brother has certainly altered. I understand now that my former objections were based almost entirely on prejudice and misinformation. However, having refused him, I neither seek nor deserve a second chance. No, my reason for coming was to thank him for his help to my sister, which I believe you know about.’

Miss Darcy coloured. ‘Yes, your sister has my sympathy.’ She looked away a moment, lost in thought. ‘But if you were not engaged to my brother, why should your family’s misfortune be
his
responsibility?’

‘It seems Mr Darcy interprets his responsibilities very broadly,’ Elizabeth agreed. ‘Still, I would like to thank him, as soon as he is well enough for me to raise the matter. And I would like to repay some of the debt that my family owes him, by offering such distractions as are in my power—which at present are limited to the reading of poetry.’

Miss Darcy stiffened. ‘But Miss Bennet, for your own sake you should not have come. My brother has insisted most particularly that you stay away while this shadow hangs over him.’

‘Nevertheless, here I am.’ Elizabeth stood up, before continuing firmly: ‘And if you would be so kind, I should like you to show me to his room.’

In some ways, Darcy’s chamber was unaltered. The same nurse sat in the same corner, her head bowed over an embroidery. As before, the bedside table held a stack of papers and a jug of ale, joined this time by a bowl of fruit. The same leather chair was placed facing the bed. However, the dark heavy ambience had gone, with several drapes and a window now opened, and the patient himself sitting up in bed and presenting a far healthier colour.

Darcy observed her with his lips pressed severely together as she approached, but the light in his eyes told a different story. Feeling oddly relaxed in his presence, and more confident of her power, Elizabeth stood next to him and offered her hand, which for a few seconds he enveloped in his right hand while cupping it with his left.

‘I am glad to find you much better, Mr Darcy.’

‘You should not be here, Miss Bennet. I thought we had made that plain.’

She snorted and retreated to the chair. ‘Is it not one of the trials of life that other people occasionally act against our wishes, as if deluded that their own ideas and plans might have merit too?’

He sighed. ‘I see you intend to be hard on me, Miss Bennet. You were so sweet and gentle on your last visit.’

‘Well sir, you are stronger now, although not I fancy strong enough to leap out of your bed and catch me, so I shall say whatever I please.’

‘Seriously Elizabeth—I mean, Miss Bennet—my warning was not given frivolously. May I ask …’ He winced with pain as he turned slightly, so as to face her more directly. ‘May I ask if your uncle knows you are here?’

Colouring, Elizabeth sought a way of evading this question, but lying to Darcy did not come naturally to her, and she admitted:

‘He does not.’

‘And if he did, would he approve or disapprove?’

‘The latter, I suppose.’

‘So you do understand.’ He leaned forward a fraction and dropped his voice. ‘Why
did
you come?’

‘To read to you, if that would please you.’ She hesitated a moment, fearful of taking the next step. ‘But also to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your noble generosity to my family.’

He frowned. ‘I have not the pleasure of comprehending you, madam.’

‘I am referring to your rescue of Lydia.’ She held up a hand, to forestall his protest. ‘Please let me reassure you that no-one else in my family is aware of the role you played, except for my uncle and aunt, and of course Lydia herself. It is for this reason that I thank you on my family’s behalf as well as mine.’

He shook his head. ‘I believed Mr and Mrs Gardiner more discreet.’

‘They said not a word, until Lydia thoughtlessly let slip your name while telling me of the wedding. Luckily we were alone, so your secret spread no further.’

He leaned back against his pillow, looking suddenly deflated, and she continued: ‘Mr Darcy, I appreciate the mortification you must have suffered in dealing with such a man as Mr Wickham, not to mention the expense. Why you took on this responsibility I cannot say, but again you have my profound thanks and admiration.’

After a pause, he answered: ‘If I am honest, I did it for you, and you alone.’

Elizabeth felt a blush spread over her face and neck. Looking down, she murmured: ‘I deserved no such consideration.’

‘I beg to differ.’ He frowned. ‘And now I fear I have placed you under a heavy obligation, and that it is for this reason, and this reason only, that you call on me now.’

Elizabeth kept silent, unable to contest the strong element of truth in this assertion. After a while she looked up and said:

‘Tell me about the duel.’

He shrugged. ‘You will have read the newspapers.’

‘How did you insult this man, Sir Osborne Kaye?’

Noting his evident reticence, she fixed him with an intent gaze, until he looked away and said: ‘It is better not to speak of it.’

‘Am I not to be trusted?’

He swallowed. ‘You should understand that whatever the rights and wrongs of the case, juries are unpredictable. The best chance is that the Kaye family can be persuaded to withdraw their accusation, and to favour this eventuality, we are trying to prevent any release of information that might embarrass them.’

‘I see.’ She thought for a while. ‘You are saying that you witnessed, or discovered, something that was potentially embarrassing to this man and his family. But whence the insult? Did you perhaps confront Sir Osborne with his misdeed, whatever it was, and express your disapproval?’

He began to answer, but was overcome by a fit of coughing. Pre-empting the nurse, who was setting aside her embroidery to come to Mr Darcy’s aid, Elizabeth hastily jumped up, passed him a handkerchief from the bed, and poured a glass of ale. Eagerly accepting the drink, he took several sips, which seemed to restore his throat to normal.

‘Thank you.’ He sighed. ‘Very well. In strict confidence, the matter is more or less as you stated it. I came upon Sir Osborne, by chance, in what might be called a compromising situation. He demanded that I should apologise for my intrusion and withdraw. I refused on both counts. He deemed this an insult and demanded satisfaction. In the event, neither of us gained much
satisfaction
, since he is now dead, while I lie in bed with serious injuries, awaiting trial for murder.’ He faced her again, his eyes blazing with anger. ‘I believe I once saw fit to point out the disparity between our two families. Well, the disparity still holds, but now in favour of the Bennets, not the Darcys, whom I have shamed by my actions. Until this affair is resolved, no respectable man or woman will wish to have dealings with us, and nor should you.’

‘I see. The mark of respectability is to abandon a friend in difficulties.’

She noticed his eyes flicker on hearing the word ‘friend’, but his expression remained cold. ‘You must be practical.’

‘As you were practical, when helping my family recover from its disgrace?’ A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she continued: ‘But under what circumstances did you encounter Sir Osborne on the occasion of which you just spoke? Where were you exactly?’

He shook his head and remained silent.

‘In some establishment of low repute, I would imagine. But what was an honourable gentleman like yourself
doing
in such a place? Were you by any chance
searching for Mr Wickham
?’

‘I assure you this has nothing to do with Wickham at all.’

‘Except, I think, that while looking for Mr Wickham among the low life of London, you accidentally stumbled on this blackguard, probably inflicting unmentionable indignities on some poor female victim.’

Darcy gasped. ‘Really, Miss Bennet!’

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