Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

She was not entirely sure that her aunt heard the question. The candles were burning low, Kitty had long since gone up to bed, and Mr Gardiner was still in the dining parlour, demolishing his finest bottle of port with the two men of business who had come for dinner. Mrs Gardiner, too polite to retire to her own bed until her husband's guests departed, had grown sleepy, her head lolling against the wing of her chair and her eyes closed more often than they were open. She spoke eventually but mumbled her answer and kept her eyes closed.

"I have no fixed engagements. Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering whether you might accompany me to the British Institution again."

Mrs Gardiner did not move other than to open her eyes and squint doubtfully. "You surprise me, Lizzy. It was a fine exhibition, but you gave no hint of having enjoyed it so well."

"I am sorry if I gave that impression. You were very good to take me, and I liked it very much, truly. But I shall not lie—it is not the exhibition I wish to see this time."

The look on her aunt's face as she came fully alert and sat up in her chair was everything Elizabeth had wished to avoid, but there had been no choice but to ask her to act as chaperon. Appealing to Kitty had been pointless after their quarrel; Annie, the maid, had said she had other business the next day and was not available to help; and Pall Mall was too far, and the gallery too full of propriety-conscious busybodies for Elizabeth to go alone. This was her last resort, and it had taken until almost midnight to drum up the courage to broach the matter.

"Out with it, then," Mrs Gardiner said warily. "What is it you wish to see?"

"'Tis not what but whom. Miss Darcy will be there tomorrow. I would like to speak to her."

Her aunt gave a quiet groan and shook her head. "Lizzy, this has to stop. You cannot continue to?—"

"Pray, allow me to explain. This has nothing to do with Mr Darcy. At least, not in the way you are imagining. I am well aware that situation is hopeless, and I assure you, this is not some indelicate scheme to renew the acquaintance. Indeed, I am hopeful that he will never find out I have spoken to his sister."

"You do not think it likely Miss Darcy would tell him?"

"No. In fact, I believe the subject I wish to speak of is one she would vastly prefer to keep him from finding out about at all costs."

"You have something specific to say to her, then? I assumed you only wished to say ‘how do you do'." She waved the matter away and slid to the edge of her seat. "You had better tell me what this is about."

Elizabeth knew she must tread a careful path between deception and truth, undesirous of trespassing upon either. She had meant it when she said she did not wish to lie to her aunt; nevertheless, it was surely not necessary to disclose every detail. Vagueness seemed the safest course to take. Thus, she began by explaining that she and Kitty had returned to the gallery without elaborating as to why.

Mrs Gardiner seemed not to notice the omission. "Now I comprehend her high dudgeon this evening. Your sister has never been much of a one for the arts."

Elizabeth did not contradict her and went on, instead, to explain her cowardly lunge for cover upon seeing Miss Darcy, as well as her subsequent overhearings.

"I take it, from your expression, that this troubles you," her aunt replied, "but I cannot see that anything overly worrying occurred. Their introduction was a little improper, to be sure, but if Miss Darcy wishes to see the gentleman again, it is no business of ours."

"I would agree with you entirely if Lord Rutherford were a man of honour."

"Have you reason to think he is not?"

"Unfortunately, yes. There was talk about him at the gallery. Kitty heard him referred to as a rake."

Her aunt regarded her expectantly for a moment, before asking in a disapproving tone, "Was that it?"

Elizabeth shifted on her seat, uncomfortable to be sailing so close to disguise. "No. I also understand, from what I heard myself, that he was at the gallery to meet a different lady but threw her over as soon as he set eyes on Miss Darcy. It cannot speak well of his character that he was willing to disappoint one young lady the moment another took his fancy."

"Lizzy, this is meaningless gossip—a few spurious remarks overheard in a busy gallery. You ought to know better than to pay attention to such things."

"And in the usual course of things, I would think nothing of it. But I have another reason to be concerned."

"Oh?"

Elizabeth sighed heavily. "I would not, under any other circumstance, reveal this, for my discretion in this matter has been as valuable to Mr Darcy as his was to us when it came to Lydia's elopement."

Mrs Gardiner frowned deeply and assured Elizabeth that she could depend upon her secrecy. She and her husband, Elizabeth knew, thought exceptionally well of Mr Darcy for the probity and generosity he had shown in saving Lydia from ruin. They had assumed, at the time, he had done it for their niece. That it had not turned out to be affection which motivated him, whilst it made them sorry for her, had only increased their good opinion of him. For if it had not been love that induced him, it could only have been the finest sense of honour.

"Lydia was not the first girl whom Wickham almost ruined," Elizabeth whispered, as though saying it aloud might be ruinous despite there being nobody else present to hear. "Before her, he persuaded Miss Darcy to believe herself in love with him. She was but fifteen at the time. Their elopement was only prevented because Mr Darcy visited his sister unexpectedly, and she confessed the whole of it to him."

Her aunt pursed her lips and exhaled heavily through her nose. "Your new brother has a lot to answer for. No wonder Mr Darcy was so reluctant to reveal his true character to the world—his poor sister!"

"Exactly. Do you see now why I am fearful for her? She has been burnt once before, almost irreparably. She is such a dear, sweet girl—so shy and trusting. I would warn her to be careful of Lord Rutherford, that is all. I cannot bear the thought of her being ill-used again."

"It would be a tragedy, I agree, but it is not our place to intervene, and certainly not on the grounds of two unsubstantiated rumours. You would do better to have your uncle send a note to Mr Darcy. Let her brother be the one to investigate the matter."

Elizabeth shook her head—and rather more violently than she intended to, but that was the solution she was least inclined to pursue. "You have not heard from him since Lydia's wedding. That can mean only one thing—that he did not wish to maintain an acquaintance with you, any more than he did with me. And really, who can blame him, for we are now related to a man he justly scorns."

"True, but in these circumstances, a simple letter would surely present no evil."

"But it would! Imagine, the first contact in months from a family he would sooner forget, and it is with the accusation that his sister is engaged in another illicit liaison! Censure all the more problematic precisely because , as you say, the reports are unsubstantiated." She shook her head again. "I cannot hurl any more unfounded charges at Mr Darcy; it would be unthinkably cruel—not to mention unfair to his sister and mortifying for me. It would be much better if I were to have a quiet word with Miss Darcy at the gallery. Mr Darcy need never know."

The answer was going to be no; Elizabeth could tell. Her aunt's mien was sympathetic, but she was taking a long time to answer, and that meant she was preparing her excuses. "I shall never have the chance to thank him for what he did for Lydia," she interjected before Mrs Gardiner could speak. "If I can do this one thing, if I can protect his sister, it would be the closest to repaying him I shall ever have the opportunity for."

She saw the indecision in her aunt's countenance—and she saw it disappear again when the door opened, and her uncle poked his head into the room.

"Gregg and Sawyer are leaving, my dear."

Mrs Gardiner hastened to her feet, urgently seeking assurances that neither of the gentlemen wished for coffee.

"Gregg has an early appointment," Mr Gardiner explained, holding the door open for his wife. He seemed surprised when Elizabeth stood up to follow them both into the hall. "Lizzy! I thought you went to bed when your sister did. You are good to stay up and keep your aunt company."

"Not at all, Uncle, it was my pleasure." She followed him along the passage to the entrance hall, where Mr Sawyer and Mr Gregg were shrugging into their coats in readiness to leave. She tried her best to be cheerful as she wished them both farewell, but privately, she could think of little other than how awful it would be if, after everything Mr Darcy had done for her sister, her inaction allowed his sister to come to harm.

"You are good, Lizzy. You have a big heart," her aunt whispered, startling her. She looked up and was greeted with a kind smile and kinder words. "I shall go with you tomorrow. It will be pleasant to see Miss Darcy again. She is a sweet girl."

The magnitude of her relief made even Elizabeth begin to doubt her earlier avowals of being reconciled to her acquaintance with Mr Darcy being over, but there was nothing she could do about that. She might see him again, or she might not; for now, Miss Darcy would be warned, and Mr Darcy would be spared the pain of seeing his sister unhappy again. That was all that mattered. She thanked her aunt in the warmest of terms and excused herself to bed.