Only Mr. Darcy Will Do

she to be married?”

“Why, Mr. Wickham, of course! And it was arranged so handsomely by Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief excitedly in the air. “He even provided them with their own home in Hertfordshire, a very easy distance from Meryton!”

“Mr. Darcy?” exclaimed Elizabeth. “How could that be? He would not have…” Suddenly she saw it all in their eyes. They were not looking at her, but beyond her. At once she knew that someone was standing behind her.

She swallowed hard, trying to moisten her suddenly dry mouth. Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned. She found herself face-to-face with the two gentlemen who had apparently been seated across the room all this time. They were now standing, as they must have stood as soon as she had entered, but they had been out of her view. Her mind made every attempt to comprehend what she saw, but she could not.

The two gentlemen bowed, and Elizabeth made an awkward attempt at a curtsey. “Good afternoon, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said. Her eyes then turned to the other, confusion sweeping across her face. “Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy.”

Chapter 23

Elizabeth had so many questions; unfortunately the only one forefront in her mind was, “Why is Mr. Darcy here?” But she could not ask that now. She turned back to her mother, struggling to formulate a question, let alone a thought.

“Where is Lydia now?”

“Lydia and Kitty are upstairs,” her mother answered exuberantly. “Most likely they are talking about the wedding!” Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips. “Mary is with them.”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “I am certain Mary wants to ensure there is a little decorum in their plans.”

Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief again. “Oh, she will only lecture and moralize. Poor Lydia! You know how Mary can be so tiresome in her opinions.”

Elizabeth sighed. “When is the wedding to be?”

“Two weeks. There is so much to do!”

“She is to be married before…” Elizabeth paused, not knowing whether there even would be a wedding between Jane and Mr. Bingley. She bit her lip, deciding what to ask next. “Is my uncle here? My cousins?” Her questions only served to give her time to think.

Her aunt answered, “My husband had some business dealings today. He ought to be home soon. The children have been spending these days with my sister, who agreed to take them for a time.” She gave her a knowing look. “We thought it would be best.”

Elizabeth wanted answers—needed answers—and she desperately searched for some way to get them. Her mother then conveniently answered one of her questions, one concerning Mr. Wickham. As Mrs. Bennet spoke, her eyes were again directed behind Elizabeth. Tilting her head toward the gentlemen and nodding in approval, she said, “Mr. Darcy has graciously allowed Mr. Wickham to remain in his town home until the wedding.”

Elizabeth turned abruptly and stared incredulously at Mr. Darcy. She felt as though she were in a dream where nothing made sense.

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Elizabeth and continued in her discourse, shaking her head in displeasure. “My brother has insisted upon some excessive rules that keep Mr. Wickham from seeing his Lydia as much as they would wish. They…”

Before Mrs. Bennet could finish her thought, an idea came to Elizabeth. Without thinking, she interrupted her mother by looking at her sister and saying, “Jane, I am desperately in need of some fresh air and a walk. I have been confined in a carriage for two days and would very much enjoy a stroll about the neighbourhood.”

She reached over and grasped Jane’s arm, startling her somewhat as she pulled her to her feet. “Perhaps Mr. Bingley and his friend would accompany us.” It was not a question. “Will you excuse us, please?”

She ushered Jane quickly through the room, eyeing Mr. Darcy as she walked past in a way that meant she wished to talk with him. The two men gave short bows to Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Bennet, and then silently followed Elizabeth and Jane as they walked out of the house.

After taking several impatient steps away from the house, Elizabeth heard Mr. Darcy whisper something to Mr. Bingley, who immediately stepped up alongside Jane.

“May I?” Bingley asked, extending his arm. Jane willingly took it, prompting Elizabeth to pause and wait for Mr. Darcy to draw up alongside her.

In two steps he was at her side, but she remained where she was, bringing him to a halt. Once Jane and Mr. Bingley were a sufficient distance ahead, she turned and began to walk, Darcy following her lead.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a whispered voice fraught with bewilderment.

“What kind of greeting is that?” he asked. “You spend almost two weeks at Pemberley and you greet me with, ‘What are you doing here?’”

Elizabeth looked up at him, trying to read the expression on his face. His eyes betrayed his fatigue, and his creased brow revealed the days of frustration he must have experienced dealing with Wickham. But when his eyes turned to meet Elizabeth’s, she was surprised to see him smile. The sight stirred her deeply, and her heart responded with an ardent pulsing.

“Forgive my impertinence, but I trust you understand my meaning,” she answered quickly. Turning her eyes back to the path before them, she continued, “The last I saw you, I had just informed you about Wickham’s involvement in my sister’s dreadful behaviour. I believed you to be quite… incensed at the news. You departed immediately to return to Pemberley… and your guests!”

“True,” he said solemnly. “I was greatly incensed. And I did return to Pemberley, but only briefly. I knew that if anyone could find Wickham and your sister in London quickly and set matters to right, it would be me. I determined to set off immediately.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth but words did not come. She slowly shook her head as a myriad of thoughts and more questions assaulted her. She was finally able to utter, “But why would you do this? You had guests at Pemberley! You despise the man!”

“Hmmm, yes, on both counts,” he murmured. “Georgiana is likely entertaining the Goldsmiths and Hamilton as we speak. I suspect that by now, the Willstones have departed.”

Elizabeth lowered her head. “Their premature departure is due to the letter, is it not? I am terribly grieved over the… misunderstanding and mortification that letter must have caused,” Elizabeth said softly, feeling deep regret for her carelessness.

“It was not just the matter of the letter that prompted their departure. That misunderstanding merely gave them a convenient excuse to leave.” He stopped and let out a huff, combing his fingers roughly through his hair. “If ever I gave them… gave Miss Matthews… the impression that I…” He clenched his jaw and looked down. Softly and repentantly, he said, “It was not my intention to mislead or deceive anyone. I fear I do not always see these things clearly.”

A smile touched Elizabeth’s lips at his admission. It revealed a side of him that she found rather engaging. Here was a man who was so eligible, yet oblivious to the ladies who set their sights on him. It was very possible that he was unaware of even Caroline Bingley’s profuse admiration. Elizabeth sensed his discomfiture, however, and deemed it prudent to quickly change the subject.

“You departed Pemberley, yet the letter I received while at the Ketterlings informing me that the carriage would come the following day… it was written by you.”

His smile was tinged with guilt. “I wrote it before I departed for London, and I advised those who accompanied you not to inform you that I had been away.”

“But why?” Elizabeth asked as she stood looking up at him.

Darcy turned and began to walk again. He took a few steps away from her in silence, obviously weighing his words. Coming to a stop, he turned to look back at Elizabeth, who remained at a standstill. “I knew you would discourage any assistance from me if you knew my plans. It was my decision to keep you uninformed of my coming to London to find Wickham and your sister.”