Chapter Twelve

B ack in Jane's room with The Midnight Bell in hand, Elizabeth's thoughts were in a turmoil. Mr. Darcy wanted to call on her ? She was baffled. From bits of conversation she had overheard, she knew Mr. Darcy to be a wealthy gentleman with an estate up north, and an uncle who was an earl. It was all but incomprehensible that he should be interested in a poor country girl.

Jane, seeing her sister's preoccupation, asked, "Lizzy? Is everything all right?"

"Oh, Jane, I am sorry. Yes, everything is fine. Mr. Bingley wanted to know if you could come downstairs tonight and I said no, but that I would tell you he had enquired after you."

"That was kind of him. But there must be something else; I see it in your face. You can tell me anything, you know that."

"I can never keep anything from you! Jane, you recall I told you about Mr. Darcy."

"The dark, good-looking wealthy man? Yes, indeed." Jane smiled.

"Well, Mr. Darcy wants to call on me."

"He – what ?"

"Exactly! What does a man like that want with me ?"

"Stop it, Lizzy." Jane's voice was still hoarse, but her tone was firm, almost angry. "Stop being so hard on yourself. You are bright, witty, lovely – he would be lucky to gain your favour."

"You are so sweet, Jane; no wonder everyone loves you."

"No, you shall not deflect me. Lizzy, you are everything wonderful. I am not the slightest bit surprised that Mr. Darcy is interested in you, and it speaks well of him that he recognises your wonderful qualities."

Seeing that Jane would not be dissuaded, Elizabeth thanked her sister and set about arranging the bedclothes. "You had dinner, I hope, Jane?"

"I did, yes. Martha brought it up and gave me all the household gossip along with my tray. Miss Bingley has set her eyes firmly on Mr. Darcy, but no one thinks him the slightest bit interested in her."

"Jane, we should not be discussing –"

"Wait, wait, you must hear the rest. Your Mr. Darcy has his valet sleep in front of his bedroom door to avoid any possibility of Miss Bingley claiming a compromise!"

Elizabeth's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, my!"

"Yes; there, are you not glad that I told you?"

"I suppose I am, as that is the most entertainment I have had all day," Elizabeth laughed.

"Poor Miss Bingley, though," kind Jane said.

Elizabeth snorted. "Poor Miss Bingley should get a bit of sense into that thick red head of hers. It is obvious, Jane, painfully obvious, that he has no interest in her at all. She goes on and on about London and her friends and how stylish she is, and he is all but rolling his eyes at her."

"We are all fools in love, are we not?"

Elizabeth scoffed. "She does not love him; if she did, she would be more attentive to his moods. She may love his income; now that I would believe. Oh, but I neglected to tell you that there is another visitor here."

"Indeed?"

"Yes; a cousin of Mr. Darcy's; his name is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam."

"A Colonel! In a red coat?"

"He was not wearing it, but I imagine that he has one, yes."

"What is he like?"

"Oh, very gentlemanly, indeed. I was seated between Mr. Hurst and the Colonel at dinner, and the Colonel and I had a most interesting discussion."

"And, of course, Mr. Hurst said not a word," Jane guessed.

"You are correct. No, wait, I believe he did ask me to pass him a dish at one point; does that count?"

"As conversation? No."

"But it at least proves he has the power of speech," Elizabeth said. "Which, until tonight, I was beginning to doubt."

***

After Elizabeth left the library, Mr. Darcy resumed his position on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. Had he truly asked to call on Miss Elizabeth? Yes; he had. And he was sufficiently self-aware to know that before this – this incident – of Georgiana's, he would never have done so. Pride in his family name would have prevented him from making any overtures whatsoever to a country girl, no matter how enticing her figure, how bewitching her eyes, how fascinating her conversation…he stopped himself. He was, he thought, becoming maudlin.

Colonel Fitzwilliam interrupted his musings. "There you are."

"Here I am," Mr. Darcy said, agreeably.

"So – Miss Elizabeth. I am right, am I not?"

"I have asked if I might call on her."

"You did what?!"

"You heard me."

"You are calling on a country girl? You, the master of Pemberly, are calling on a country girl? Do not mistake me, I think that is absolutely the right decision. I am simply – well, surprised does not quite cover it."

Mr. Darcy looked somber. "Oddly, Georgiana's disaster has freed me from being so concerned about the family name. After that newspaper article, the Darcy name is already on everyone's lips. I think before this I could not have acted on my interest in Miss Elizabeth."

"Well, I suppose some good has come of it all, then, if the Darcy pride has been laid to rest."

"More like turned entirely to ashes. Richard, I tell you, being at Pemberley was like being in a graveyard. Every room in the house seemed to remind me of my failure. If I must live there – and I suppose I must – then I have to find a way to bring something new into my life. Miss Elizabeth suggests that I focus on my own character and behaviour instead of taking pride in a family name."

"I see that Miss Elizabeth is helping you to feel better, but I hope that is not the sole reason for your interest in her. She deserves better than that."

"I agree, but I am simply calling on her. Anything more must wait until we know one another better." He paused and then his head sank down onto his hands. "And here I am, playing at romance, while my sister endures I know not what at the hands of a villain."

His cousin replied, very seriously, "Her situation is not worsened by you finding happiness with Miss Elizabeth. Or is it that you feel you do not deserve happiness?"

"You may be right. How can I deserve happiness when I so utterly failed my sister? As well as my father, who placed his trust in me by naming me her guardian? Worse; his dying words to me were, ‘Protect your sister!' And I promised him that I would! I took an oath, as my father lay on his deathbed!" Mr. Darcy's voice was anguished.

"He named me as her guardian as well; I am equally to blame."

"You most certainly are not. It was I who neglected to check Mrs. Younge's references."

"That much is true. But, Darcy, I have been giving this a good deal of thought. Tell me, what else was happening when you were interviewing companions for Georgiana?"

"What do you mean?"

"What was happening at Pemberley? Was it just a normal time?"

"I do not know if there is ever a normal time on an estate the size of Pemberley, but no. It was spring planting, so I was busy with that, and there had been a fire that had burnt two of the tenant cottages to the ground. I was working with craftsmen to have the cottages rebuilt as soon as possible, as well as finding temporary housing for the displaced families. But that is no excuse for failing to check references for a post as important as guardian to my sister."

"It is no excuse, but it is a reason."

"It is a reason. Fine. And yet Georgiana is lost to us."

The two men sat in silence for another minute. Then Mr. Darcy asked, "Any word yet from your men in London?"

"I sent the messages out only today, Darcy. And London is a big place. It will take time."

"Days? Weeks?"

The Colonel sighed, heavily. "Months, I would imagine."