The Gypsy Blessing (24 page)

Elizabeth’s nervous discomfiture every time she received a letter made him uneasy. Something was wrong.

Darcy shook his head. This uncertainty was causing him to become harsh when conversing with her. When Elizabeth had taken offense at his question, he was surprised that an ache within his chest had sprung up in response. He hoped never again to be the cause of such a pained expression on her beautiful face.

Today, when Elizabeth’s mother and sisters had descended upon Netherfield to visit the ailing eldest daughter, Darcy distanced himself from Elizabeth, hoping to limit the distraction of having her near him. Using this strategy, he gained a clear understanding that, for once, Caroline Bingley was correct in her opinions.

Mrs. Bennet’s conduct was deplorable, as was that of her two youngest daughters. Afraid that the younger girls would be a bad influence on Georgiana, he had almost sent his sister from the room. Amazingly enough, the only daughter in attendance who was behaving appropriately was also the only one who Mrs. Bennet scolded.

Much like the matchmaking mamas of the
ton
, Mrs. Bennet had eyes only for the gentleman with the deepest pockets. Even though Bingley
was
interested in her daughter, Mrs. Bennet refused to notice because, he assumed, a Darcy was the better catch. If Jane Bennet had been in the room, he was sure her mother would have tripped the poor girl so that she would have ended up in his lap.

Movement outside the window caught his eye. He looked up and saw Elizabeth on a solitary ramble. Placing his book on a side table, he stood and moved towards the window so that he could have a better view. She was so lovely, and, even though he knew she must be tired after spending so much time nursing her sister, she was glowing with good health.

Elizabeth looked up at a flock of geese in flight. As if he knew she was about to look in his direction, Darcy stepped back away from the window. Elizabeth seemed to look around to see if anyone else was in the park, and then she removed her bonnet. He watched as she absentmindedly threaded the ribbon through her fingers, allowing the hat to hang from her hand.

Without realizing it, he stepped forward again and leaned upon the window frame.

Tilting her head back so that her face could catch the rays of the sun, Elizabeth closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. What he would not have given to be standing before her as she did so, to have been close enough to gather her into his arms and press his mouth against her inviting lips. He could almost taste the sweetness of her skin, as she exposed the full length of her neck to his hungry eyes. His heart almost leapt out of his chest, it beat so furiously. What this woman did to him!

At last, she opened her eyes. Something in her mischievous expression made him think she would throw out her arms and twirl around in circles. She did not do so, but he guessed that if she were not in view of the house, she would have. She replaced her bonnet, tied the ribbons, and began walking again.

What was it like to embrace every moment the way he knew Elizabeth did? If he were able to give in to his heart’s desire, could she teach him? Or would it come to him naturally, just being near her day in and day out?

Even here at Netherfield, far away from all those who depended on him at Pemberley, Darcy House, and his other family holdings, the weight of his responsibilities pressed down on him. This was his reality—his life—ever since the day his father died... no, since even before then, if he was honest with himself. But somehow, when he was with Elizabeth, the burden felt lighter, and he felt more alive than he ever had before.

He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of her against him on the street at Ramsgate when they first met. He breathed deeply, imagining her scent. How he wished he could live in that moment forever.

Suddenly sensing Elizabeth’s gaze upon him, his eyes snapped open. Obviously, he had stepped too close to the glass. Elizabeth was staring directly at him. Their eyes locked, and his heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, his hand raised, and he waved. She smiled, bowed her head slightly, and then turned and walked away.

I should have been more careful.
He swallowed hard.
I must remind myself of all the reasons I cannot follow my heart. Society, her family...
he nodded.

He must keep these points in mind every time he saw Elizabeth—every time her tinkling laughter warmed his soul, every time her fine eyes met his and sparked a deep longing, every time she passed by and left him surrounded by her scent, taking his breath away...

The moment Bingley no longer required his guidance, he would take Georgiana and flee far away from Elizabeth. They would go to Pemberley where there were no reminders.

He would wait to return to Darcy House until he could read a play by Shakespeare without thinking of her—without reliving that night in Ramsgate when he had assisted her with reaching a book. By the time he returned to his townhouse in London, surely all temptation would have faded. He would be able to walk into the music room without hearing her play, or look out a window in the front half of the house without seeing her there.

Yes, I can do this. I must.

~%~

Elizabeth opened the door to allow Hanna into the room.

“This letter come for you, if you please, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Hanna, why are you bringing it to me? I would have found it the next time I came downstairs.”

“Oh, no, miss—the other maids are all willy nilly over ya’ letters appearin’ out o’ nowhere. They won’t even go into the main hall no more at all if there be a letter there. Me or Agnes or the butler or housekeepa’ has to dust there, now... keep sayin’ there’s magic at work wit’ them letters o’ yours. I figured ‘twould be better to get it out o’ the hall, so I brought it up to ya’.”

Elizabeth blinked several times before asking, “What do you mean, they appear out of nowhere?”

“One minute the table’s clear; the next, the letter’s there. Nobody sees anybody comin’ nor goin’, but the letter is there.”

“Really?” Elizabeth braced herself. “Are they all afraid of
me
?”

“No, not you exactly, but they don’t want to be in your room to clean or nothing’, ma’am.”

“You are not afraid, too?”

Hanna shook her head. “’Tis true it’s strange, but ’twould be silly ta be afeared of paper. Besides, I’ve known ya all me life. There ain’t nothin’ ta be afeared of.”

“Thank you, Hanna. I am glad to hear I have not lost
your
confidence, at least.”

Hanna left, and Elizabeth sank into a chair by the fireplace.

They appear out of nowhere?
Looking down at the letter in her hand, she thought,
My letters have drawn enough speculation! We must leave Netherfield.
If
Jane is well enough to go downstairs to the drawing room this evening, I should be able to talk her into returning home on the morrow.

She turned over the missive and broke the seal. Unfolding the pages revealed another picture of Wickham, this time at the home of her Aunt and Uncle Phillips. He was looking at Elizabeth in a certain way that made her blood feel as if it had turned to ice water. She shuddered. The next had to be better! She turned the page.

Elizabeth gasped. Wickham was with Lydia, alone behind her aunt and uncle’s house in the village, and they were kissing!

No, this cannot be! He will ruin her—and ruin our entire family! Uncle wrote to Papa... how can this be? I must ask Mr. Darcy to speak to my father... to warn him further, so that Papa will be more thorough in forbidding my sisters to have anything to do with the scoundrel.

I must not show these to Jane. Maybe the first, but in her weakened condition, I fear the second would upset her too much.

~

When she entered the library, Elizabeth was relieved that she had been correct in thinking Darcy remained where she had seen him through the window earlier. His mien was soft and inviting at first. As she crossed the room, heading directly towards him, he stood. She was confused by the change in him. It was as if a veil of stone fell across his features—as if he was steeling himself for a confrontation. Then, when she came to a stop before him, he looked directly at her again, and his eyes filled with worry.

“Is something wrong, Miss Elizabeth? Please sit... you seem upset.”

She waved him off. “I thank you for your concern, Mr. Darcy. I shall not remain long for I realize our being alone is not proper, but I must ask—no, I must beg of you, to speak to my father... to warn him about Mr. Wickham’s vile nature. I fear for my sisters’ safety.”

“Do you have information that he has arrived in the village?”

“No, sir, I do not believe he has arrived yet, but I do think he will be here soon.”

“Miss Elizabeth,
why
do you think he is coming?”

“Please trust me... he will come to Meryton.”

Darcy’s features hardened once more, but his lips twitched as if he were holding himself back from saying all that he wished. “You will not tell me how you are so certain of the scoundrel’s whereabouts?” As she searched for a way to answer him, he was quiet for several moments, but then he continued, “You ask me to trust you, and yet you will not give me the same courtesy?”

“It is not that I do not trust you, Mr. Darcy. I... I have my reasons for not disclosing that information, sir.”

She could see the muscles of his jaw working before he said, “From
whom
do all these letters come, Miss Elizabeth—the ones that upset you so thoroughly?”

Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “Of what are you accusing me, Mr. Darcy?” Sudden understanding dawned upon her, and she gasped. “Do you honestly believe I could do anything so wholly improper as to correspond with that... that...
reprobate
?”

“I do not think you would correspond with him, but it may not be your choice that he sends you letters. Tell me, Miss Elizabeth, how else would you know he is coming?”

“If Wickham were sending me letters, I would burn them... refuse them... send them back.”

Darcy seemed unconvinced. “Tell me, if not from the letters, how do you know of Wickham’s plans?”

“It
is
from the letters, but they are not from Wickham.” For a moment, since she really did not know from whom they came, she doubted her confidence. But certainly, Wickham would not warn her that he himself was dangerous! Her hand twitched as her thoughts moved to the drawings in the pocket on her skirt, but she knew she could not show them to him.

His brows raised high. “Who is sending them?”

Elizabeth took a deep, calming breath. Indeed, based on her reactions every time she received a drawing, she probably did seem guilty of
something
, and Darcy had been present time and time again when she received one. She had often feared someone would eventually suspect her.

If our roles had been reversed, would I not have alleged something similar?
She closed her eyes again and took another deep breath.
No, I cannot blame him for thinking this of me, even though it is not true!

Straightening her form, Elizabeth folded her hands before her. In a much calmer tone of voice, she said, “I wish I could explain, but I cannot.”

“You cannot, or you
will
not?” His anger was still evident in his tone.

Elizabeth pleaded with him, “Please, sir, please understand that I
cannot
tell you.”
For you would think me mad if I did!
Tears pricked at her eyes.

His expression softened once again to one of concern, but he turned away, as if he did not wish her to see. After a minute of staring out the window, Darcy declared, “If Wickham comes to Meryton, I will speak to Mr. Bennet.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” She turned from him and exited the room.

~%~

As Mrs. Younge closed the door of Mr. Darcy’s sitting room behind her, her heart pounded so frantically, it almost leapt from her chest.

Could Mr. Darcy be correct? Had her beloved Wickham joined the militia after all? Would he actually be coming to stay a mere two miles away, in Meryton?

Although the little miss did not seem to need her here, she saw now that she had made the right decision of remaining with the Darcys after all!

With her sister away from Town with her employer, Mrs. Younge had almost gone to visit with a friend instead of coming along with the Darcys, but last minute, she had decided against it.

Her friend knew all about Wickham, and she did not wish to have to explain what had happened between Wickham and her at Ramsgate—of course, she would not have told
all
of what they had planned, but, because of her melancholy, she would have had to admit at least that Wickham had left her there without a word. She had not wished to listen to her friend telling her that Wickham was not good enough for her and that she should stay away from him, rubbing salt in her fresh wounds.

Instead, she had felt she needed time to heal, time to harden her heart to him if she should happen to encounter him again in the future. Wickham had wronged her before, and she had no doubt he would again—
if
she allowed it.