Closing his eyes, he leaned back his head and filled his lungs with air, then let it slowly escape. Elizabeth! Elizabeth was free. No living in the shadow of disgrace — she could be again who she so magnificently was and without apology or blush. Darcy smiled. He had righted a grave wrong caused by his own pride, and it was good. But his vision of Elizabeth restored…that was a treasure he would cherish in his heart all his days!
The cab pulled up before the Gardiner residence on Gracechurch Street. As Darcy waited for the cabbie to descend and open the door, he looked about the street curiously. The houses were not grand, but neither were they mean or pretentious, as had been implied by Caroline Bingley’s sniggering. Rather, neat and trim residences lined the public way in a row of solid respectability and, occasionally, some grace. One of these was the address before him, and seeing it Darcy better understood the conversation and taste that Elizabeth’s relatives had exhibited at Pemberley.
He descended from the cab, mounted the shallow steps beyond the front gate, and knocked. He wondered how he should begin to explain his visit. His paying a call would be considered highly unusual, even eccentric, especially without having sent his card earlier in the day. But when they heard his reason for calling, how would they regard him?
A servant answered. “Yes, sir?” She appeared rather young for her duties and not at all schooled in the proper etiquette of her position. Likely, she was new to service.
“I have come to see Mr. Gardiner.” He handed her his card. “Is he at home to visitors? It is important that I see him.”
“I-I dun know, sir.”
“Whether he is home, or whether he is home to visitors?” Darcy prodded. Definitely new!
“Oh, he be home, but there’s already sum’un wif him. An’ the missus ain’t back from country yet,” she supplied ingenuously. “So, I dun know if he can see
“I see.” Darcy could not help but smile, but he had to see Elizabeth’s uncle as soon as possible. “Perhaps I can help you. If you could tell me who the other visitor is, we can determine whether you should announce me. Do you know who it is?”
“The master’s brother,” she pronounced with conviction, but then doubt crossed her face. “Well, calls him ‘brother,’ but how can he be with the name Bennet? Brother-in-law, maybe.” She appeared satisfied with her reasoning. “He’s been here for days, he has, lookin’ like thunder and rain.” She shook her head at all the trouble in the world. “So, should I let you in?”
“No, I think not.” Gently, he tugged his card from between the maid’s fingers and sent up thanks that he’d escaped the disaster of stumbling unexpected into the presence of both men.
“Oh.” Her face fell, then brightened. “He be leaving tomorrow mornin’, sir. Heard it just now. Goin’ back home, he is.”
“Then I shall call tomorrow, thank you.”
“Yer that welcome, sir,” she replied, and without asking his name, she shut the door.
“Well!” Darcy snorted in surprise at his summary dismissal. “That is that, and probably just as well!” Climbing back into the cab, he directed the driver to take him to a corner near Grosvenor Square. From that address, he walked home by way of the mews so that he would not be seen by his neighbors. Living secretly in his own house had been necessary for his purposes, but he was finding it rather a blessing as well. Leaving him free from the social obligations that would have interfered with what he had to do, it also freed him to associate with whomever he must to bring all to fruition. “Rather like Dy!” The thought sprang up initially to his amusement, but soon the divergent nature of their purposes sobered him. Where was Dy? There had been no word since he had ridden off hell-for-leather in pursuit of those thought involved in the assassination of the Prime Minister. Was he well, or had it ended badly, far away in America? Darcy wished he knew.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy!” Mrs. Witcher exclaimed, pressing her hand to her heart as he surprised her at the service entrance to the kitchen. “I shall never understand why the master of the house cannot come in through his own front door!”
When Darcy knocked at the Gardiners’ door the next morning, the little scullery maid had been replaced by an older woman who knew what she was about. He was ushered into the hall with polite murmurs and curtsies and left for only moments before the master was at the door to his study observing him with astonishment.
“Mr. Darcy!” He stepped forward. “I am honored, sir!”
“Mr. Gardiner.” Darcy inclined his head at the older man’s bow. “I trust you are well.”
“Why, yes…as well as may be,” he stammered. “But welcome and come in, please!” He motioned to his study. “May I offer you anything? Tea —”
“No, I thank you. Please do not trouble yourself or your staff.”
Mr. Gardiner bowed once more and sat down on a settee opposite him. “What may I do for you, Mr. Darcy?” he began. “I must confess my utter astonishment to find you in my hall, but,” he hurried on, his eyes bright with curiosity, “that does not mean I am not delighted to return your excellent hospitality during our visit to Derbyshire. How may I serve you, sir?”
Despite the delicacy of that on which he was about to embark, Darcy had thought himself well prepared for this interview; but the open countenance and geniality of the man before him gave him pause. He liked Elizabeth’s uncle, he realized suddenly, and did not wish to see his honest, welcoming face harden in displeasure and embarrassment. But it could not be helped. What Elizabeth had confided in despair, he had turned to good use for the man before him and his family, and Elizabeth’s relative must have the particulars to complete what he had secured thus far.
“Your niece Miss Elizabeth Bennet must have told you that I happened upon her only minutes after receiving disturbing news from her sister,” he began.
Mr. Gardiner’s eyes shaded, but he put on a good face. “Yes…yes, she did, and I thank you for your understanding…and Miss Darcy’s, also, I am sure. Lizzy was anxious to rejoin her family, and what can a man do in the face of such entreaty but comply?” He gave a little laugh.
Darcy took a deep breath. “Then, it would appear she did not tell you that, in her distress, she revealed to me the contents of those letters.”
“Ah…” Mr. Gardiner sat back as if flinching from a blow and closed his eyes. Darcy prepared to allow him his moment, but the man rallied with remarkable speed. “I am sorry that you should have been troubled with our concerns, sir,” he said in a firm voice. “Please, excuse my niece for so forgetting herself.”
Darcy waved a hand in dismissal. “There is nothing to excuse.”
Elizabeth’s uncle sighed. “Thank you, sir. You honor us.” He shifted forward and continued with some embarrassment. “I know our acquaintance is a tenuous one at best, Mr. Darcy, but I feel that I — that my family — may rely with confidence upon your discretion in this sad affair.” Although he’d phrased it as a statement, it was certain he desired assurance.
“My silence on it will be absolute, I assure you,” Darcy replied, to Mr. Gardiner’s grateful relief. “But for urgent, personal reasons, I could not ignore the situation in which your family finds itself. Frankly, sir, I believe myself to be in great part responsible for it.”
Mr. Gardiner’s bewilderment could not have been more complete. “You, responsible! I am at a loss, sir, how this could possibly be!”
“George Wickham has long been known to me. He is the son of my late father’s steward; therefore, our relationship is from childhood. Sadly, his character was a devious and calculating one from the beginning. Upon my father’s death, our connection was severed with the paying over of an amount bequeathed to Wickham by his will. After that, his whereabouts and activities were unknown to me until —”
“My dear sir,” Mr. Gardiner protested, “I can find no place for blame! How were you to prevent his arrival in Meryton or predict his seduction of my niece in Brighton? Pardon me, you are very kind; but you take too much upon yourself!”
“I wish it were true,” Darcy replied, “that I came here with only a delicate conscience to assuage. To my discredit, it is not so.” He breathed in deeply, dreading the confession that had to be made. “Wickham disappeared from my notice for several years until intruding upon it in a way that threatened my own family and name. Mr. Gardiner.” He looked him in the eye. “May I return your compliment on my discretion with reliance upon
