Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle (70 page)

During his recitation, Audrey rose and walked to the large French doors that led into the garden. She stood her ground with the most perfect dignity, and his heart swelled with admiration, though he feared what she might be thinking.

“I will say that neither of us ever regretted Georgiana. We loved her. I love her. Nevertheless, Anne swore me to secrecy regarding her paternity. Of course, George knew she was not his child but, in his defence, I have to say that he never rejected Georgiana or treated her any differently than Fitzwilliam. I suppose he felt he deserved what had happened since he had been the first to be unfaithful. If he suspected I was her father, he never acted upon it.”

“How do you know there are no more letters?”

“From Anne’s account, she wrote me only three times while I was in Brighton. I had gone there to lick my wounds when Georgiana was born. I never received the letters, and for years, we both feared into whose hands they had fallen. If you will note, some of the pages of each are missing. That Gisela acquired any portion of them, however, is a conundrum that I aim to solve. She was not even in George’s life when the letters went missing. And God only knows who has the other pages.”

“Oh Georgiana, my poor, poor baby,” Audrey breathed, her eyes filling with tears and her voice a whisper. “How can she bear this?”

“More than anything else, that fear kept me mute. When I saw how devastated she was after Anne and George died, I vowed to wait until she was old enough to better understand. The last two years, as she has grown stronger with your help, it seemed a fitting strategy. Then, without warning, Fitzwilliam confessed to me about the blackmail.”

“You should have told me everything about your relationship with my sister once we began to make plans for our future. For you to delay when you knew it might—”

Landingham interrupted, “By then I was so in love with you that I was afraid I would lose you. I meant it when I said I had not loved anyone but Anne all those years. Until the day she died, I was as much in love with her as the first time I gave her a nosegay of wildflowers as a boy. Until you came into my life, I never felt attraction towards another woman.”

Audrey chuckled, though her expression was solemn. “You were most likely attracted only because I resemble her. What a balm to your heart it must have been! To meet someone who looked so much like the woman you had always loved—a veritable twin. You would not even have to—”  

“NO!” He reached out and turned her to face him. “I fell in love with you
in spite
of your resemblance to Anne. When you first came to Pemberley, I could not remain in your company for more than a few minutes before I found an excuse to leave.”

“I remember.”

“Do you know why?” Her head moved slowly side to side. “I could not bear that you looked like her. It was too painful.”

“What changed your mind?”

“The day you demanded that Lady Catherine vacate Pemberley, I saw a totally different woman. Not Anne, but Audrey! Anne would never have had the daring to take on her sister as you did. Only you were courageous enough to do that!” He smiled lovingly. “That was the day that I realised what a remarkable individual you are, and as I spent more time in your presence, I realised that, while there were a few similarities to Anne, there were more differences—notable differences.

“Your personality is wholly different. You not only have a clever mind, but you are lively. You laugh easily and when I am with you, you make me glad to be alive. But it was your inner strength, your resolute spirit, which captured my heart and my admiration. You had suffered great losses, but it was obvious that you did not live a defeated life. And I was witness to your steadfastness in protecting Fitzwilliam, Georgiana and even Richard. You are not afraid to stand up to anyone who might come against those you love. In all my years, I cannot say that I have met a woman I admire more. You are truly a woman of substance.

“After getting to know you well, I find there is, in actuality, little resemblance.”

She said nothing so Landingham added, “Please, darling, forgive me if I did not handle things as you would have wished. I thought to capture the evidence from Gisela so that she could hold nothing more over the boy.” Sadly he shook his head. “And I confess to hoping that if I recovered the letters, perhaps he might feel more inclined to pardon me. Now, I fear that I have failed, as I do not know what happened to the rest of the pages.”

Audrey walked back to the sofa and sank down into the plush fabric. For a long time she said nothing, instead she seemed distracted, fingering the fringe around the edge of a pillow. When at last she responded, her voice was very compassionate though steady. “I must have time to consider all you have told me.” Her eyes found his. “Surely you understand.”

She held a hand towards him. He moved to take it and knelt at her feet while she explained.  “You do not need my forgiveness for being Georgiana’s father.  That is something that happened years before I met you and concerns only you and Anne. However, I cannot determine if we can have a future together until I know my own heart and learn how this revelation will affect Georgiana and Fitzwilliam.”

He said nothing so she continued, “I must be certain that I harbour no reservations. I want to be able to accept your relationship with my sister without regrets. Otherwise, we are sure to be miserable.” She squeezed his hand. “I need more time.”

Nodding soberly, he laid his head down on her lap. She could not help reaching to brush from his forehead the silver locks that she adored. As she did, he whispered, “No matter what you decide, I shall love you for the rest of my life.”

She could not formulate an answer, as the tears began to course down her face, forewarning that she dare not speak. Thus, she continued to stroke his hair and for some time, they remained in that position, both mourning the impasse they had reached.

~~~*~~~

London
Darcy House

Long after Elizabeth’s departure, William stared in the direction the carriage had gone. A footman, who held the elaborate front door open, began to look between the Master and Mr. Barnes, questioning what to do. At that point, the butler took matters into his own hands, issuing a discreet cough that brought William’s thoughts back to the present. Colouring to see the baffled footman awaiting him, William immediately made his way back into the house, somewhat uncomfortable to have been caught in a trance.

He meant to inform Barnes where he could be found, but changed his mind because of the rising lump in his throat. Therefore, without a word, he took the stairs two at a time in hopes of being safely ensconced in his rooms before encountering another person. Directly, he stood in the hall outside his bedroom, one hand poised on the doorknob. But before opening his door, he noticed that the door to the guest room that Elizabeth had occupied was open. Immediately, he crossed the hall and entered the sitting room. As he continued to the adjoining bedroom door, he was not surprised to find a young maid inside busily packing Elizabeth things.

At her notice, he ordered, “Please leave the packing until this afternoon.”

Mumbling her compliance, she dropped a curtsey and vacated the room in mere seconds. He followed her to the door and locked it. Turning around, he was pleased to see that Elizabeth’s personal items were still there. Gingerly, he began to examine some objects on the dressing table—a brush which held several long strands of dark hair, numerous hair pins and a small handkerchief. Unfolding the linen square, he noted that it had a different flower embroidered in each corner, though a good many of the stitches were uneven. This revelation brought a wan smile to his face. Naturally
his
Elizabeth was too full of life, too active, to be a proficient at embroidery.

Secreting the few strands of hair in the handkerchief, he hid it all inside his coat pocket before moving to a small table by the window where a book still lay open, a pink ribbon marking the page. Picking it up, he smiled to see notes scribbled in the margins just as was his practice. Turning the book over to discover the title, his heart ached anew. It was the one he had purchased in Meryton—
A Selection of Irish Melodies
—and instantly his first glimpse of her came to mind, causing his heart to ache all the more.

Reaching for a shawl draped over the back of the chair, he brought it to his nose and closed his eyes, breathing in the fragrance she wore on her wrists and in her hair—lavender. Taking the wrap with him, he entered the bedroom, noting that her small trunk still sat open on the floor where the maid had abandoned it. Then the tips of a pair of blue satin slippers, peeking from under the edge of the bed, caught his eye. As he stooped to pick them up, he marvelled at how tiny her feet were and became conscious that he had never really noticed them. His eyes had only been drawn to her own. He placed the slippers where they would not be overlooked by the maid when she returned. 

Suddenly, all the emptiness he felt from her departure returned full force, and he lay down across the counterpane, burying his face in her shawl. In this rare instance of complete privacy, he was unable to maintain his fêted self-control. Mourning her loss, a few defiant tears managed to slip from the corners of his eyes, despite his best efforts, and he quickly brushed them away. It would not do for anyone to see him despondent, least of all a servant.

In a short while, he drifted into a fitful sleep.

~~~*~~~

The Gardiner’s Residence
Gracechurch Street
Upstairs bedroom

A lone candle sitting on the plain wooden dresser provided the only light in the small bedroom where the sisters retreated upon Lizzy’s return to Gracechurch Street. It was enough, however, to illuminate the hurt on her sister’s face, and Jane embraced her even tighter, though she said nothing. Their mother’s violent reaction to Lizzy’s arrival, coupled with the horrifying tales of her stay at Gatesbridge Manor, had almost rendered poor, gentle Jane speechless.

Instead of remaining cowed by her husband’s show of force at Darcy House, Mrs. Bennet had become more emboldened with every glass of wine she had imbibed while awaiting her husband and daughter. And when the pair had come through the front door at the Gardiner’s residence, she had been ready with a volley of hateful barbs to describe Lizzy’s character and her husband’s good sense.

For a time, Jane feared that her father might strike her mother in order to silence her as she raged against Lizzy without heed to his warnings. Indeed, though he had never before raised a hand to anyone that she was aware of, he looked angry enough to do so. It took Madeline Gardiner’s subtle reminder to Mrs. Bennet of the consequences of defying her husband to make her hush. It crossed Jane’s mind then that her aunt might have been worried about having to take Fanny Bennet into her own home.

It was at that point that Mr. Bennet demanded to speak to his wife in the study, and taking her arm, he dragged her in that direction whilst Jane pulled Lizzy up the stairs to the bedroom they always shared.

The horrible acts of which their mother had accused Lizzy wounded her deeply, and she had collapsed on the bed the moment she reached it. As she cried, Jane gathered her into her embrace, gently rocking her side to side. Now, she felt it her duty to try to convince Lizzy that all would be well, though she was not certain of that herself. 

“Please do not be so sad, dearest. It shall all work out, you shall see. Mama had too much wine, but in a while she will come to her senses and regret the unpleasant things she said. We shall return to Longbourn, and your Mr. Darcy shall obtain a divorce from that horrible woman and come to fetch you.”

“We cannot be sure of that. Gisela is certain to do all she can to prevent a divorce, and even if Fitzwilliam is successful, he cautions that it could take years. What will become of us if the rumours reach Meryton? Then our entire family will suffer, and Mama will never let me forget it. Was I foolish to think only of my happiness, to let myself care for him?”

“You were not foolish to want happiness! And everything you fear now may never occur. You must be resolute above all else.  If Mama senses that you regret your choice to care for Mr. Darcy, I fear she will make your life even more miserable. Should she come to the conclusion that you
caused a
scandal
, as she says, without truly knowing your own heart…” Jane’s voice trailed off as she considered the consequences. “You do love him, do you not?”

“I love him with all my heart.”

Jane relaxed and a small smile returned. Elizabeth, however, looked even more despondent as she crossed to the window seat where she sat down and stared into the darkness at the park across the street. The gate that marked the entry to a trail she followed each morning was visible only when the full moon emerged from behind some dark clouds. Looking up at the sky, she realised that the clouds were increasing, and rain was likely soon. A sudden shiver made her wrap her arms around herself.

“Do you know what I fear the most?”

Jane hurried to the window seat, sat next to her and grasped her hand. “Tell me.”

Elizabeth began to blink to keep from crying. “I… I do not know how I can bear not being able to see him whenever I wish. These last few days have been the happiest of my life.”

Jane tenderly ran a finger down her cheek. “I shall help you. We shall stay so busy, he shall return before you realise it.”

Elizabeth tried to smile. “Have you so soon forgotten that you are to be wed? A newly engaged woman will not have time for such things, nor would I wish it of you. Your full attention should be directed towards Mr. Bingley now, not me.”

“Charles will want to help you and his friend, of this I am sure! We shall both endeavour to lift your spirits. And, after we marry, we shall come to London for a stay, and I insist that you come with us. Then you shall see Mr. Darcy whenever you wish.”