Mr. Darcy Came to Dinner (31 page)

Without another thought and in violation of all propriety, Elizabeth blurted out, “Who are you?”

The middle-aged woman, dressed like a servant, took in Elizabeth in a heartbeat. She must have determined that she was a lady in the household, for she completed a quick curtsy and answered, “Good day to you, miss. I am Mrs. Adams.”

Elizabeth remembered her manners. “I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You are new here. Has my father employed you?”

“No, ma’am. I am in service to Mr. Darcy. I am his nurse.”

Elizabeth’s heart dropped as all her fears were proven true. Mr. Darcy had shown his true colors. He had a poor, helpless, harmless girl dismissed, endangering her family, just because she ruined a single shirt. Her father would not have turned Sally out; he had not the cruelty. Mr. Darcy must have made him do it.

Elizabeth’s anger rose as quickly as her hopes faded. So it had all been a lie. The gifts, the lessons, the kindness — the friendship! Elizabeth had been right in her first assessment: Mr. Darcy was a cold, ruthless man who thought nothing of destroying a destitute and unprotected servant!

I am sure this is the common way in London, but Hertfordshire is not Town! We do things better here, and I will be happy to inform him of that. Mr. High-and-Mighty Darcy! You will not pass this day without knowing my mind on what you have done!

Elizabeth was furious when she barged into the parlor.

* * *

“I am defeated, sir! It is utterly ruined!”

Bartholomew held up a silk shirt with a large, pink blotch on it.

Darcy could not hide a smile at his valet’s expense. “Bartholomew, I believe you feel far too deeply about the matter.”

“But, sir, just look at it! I can do
nothing
with it.” The man was truly disgusted. “Fine silk from Chamberlin’s of London, and all it is fit for is rags!”

“I can have another shirt made.”

Bartholomew continued to complain as though his master had said nothing. “Clumsy girl! She had best mind her steps at Argyle, or the viscountess will have her on the road in no time.”

Darcy frowned. He knew his man needed to express his frustration, but this was a bit much. Sally had not intended to spill wine on him, and it was time to put an end to the issue. “Bartholomew, pray desist your — ”

Darcy was unable to finish, for in that instant the door was thrown open, and in marched Elizabeth Bennet. Her eyes flew to the garment the valet was still displaying.

“Miss Elizabeth!” Bartholomew cried. “It is ruined!”

Elizabeth’s fine eyes, now sparking with anger, turned on Darcy, but
his
attention was still on his valet. “That is enough, man. I am done with shirts and maids. The matter is closed.” He turned to Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth, good morning. How may — ”

“How
could
you?!”

“I beg your pardon?”

Elizabeth began pacing about the room in an agitated manner. “I knew I should not have trusted you! I knew it! From the very beginning — from the first moment, I may almost say — of my acquaintance with you, your manners impressed me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others. But even after all your offenses against myself — ”

“Offenses?”

“I never dared dream that you could be as cold and unfeeling as to ruin, perhaps forever, the happiness and security of a most devoted servant!”

Mr. Darcy was perplexed and offended. “Miss Elizabeth, I must ask you to explain yourself!”

“Nay, it is
you
who must explain!” By now tears were running down her fair face, and she angrily dashed them away. “Was it for sport? Did it amuse you? You and your gifts and lessons and horses! It was all a trick to win my family’s approval. Did you not hold them all in disgust? Have you been laughing at us the whole time?” She began to sob. “And just when I thought . . . I began to hope . . . friendship — ”

“Miss Elizabeth, please! I do not understand your anger! How have I offended you? Please explain yourself!” He was utterly confused.

“You deserve no explanation! You
know
what you did to Sally and her family, and it merits the severest condemnation!”

Darcy shook his head. “It was not my intention that you should have learned of this, but why the distress, madam? Condemnation for
what
, may I ask?” Darcy’s voice rose. “Your father and I have secured Sally a new position. She shall not suffer; indeed, I flatter myself she is better off now than before. I am sorry it displeases you.” He had no idea how pompous he sounded.

“Of course, I am displeased! You have persuaded my own father to participate in an injustice! You sent Sally away from the only home she has ever known!”

“She
had
to leave — ”

“Because she spilled wine on your precious shirt!”

In a cold voice, Darcy said, “No, so that employment
also
could be found for her mother and brother.”

“What did you say?”

Darcy turned to the window. “Positions have been secured for Sally’s entire family. Their new employer is a man of good character and will treat them well. They journey to join in service to him.” He could not look at Elizabeth for all the world.

“You . . . you found work for all of Sally’s family? Why?” Her voice was low, nearly a whisper.

But Darcy was too angry to note her change of attitude. He answered in a clipped, harsh voice, “You are unhappy about this turn of events, and I shall not further pain you by continuing this conversation. All I shall say is that what was done was done for the best, and I feel not the slightest regret for it.” Darcy paused. “Miss Elizabeth, I believe we have said more than we should about this unpleasant situation. You are obviously dissatisfied with the solution that was found for the distress of Sally’s family. However, it profits neither of us to continue this discussion. I must beg you to excuse me.”

Darcy heard a gasp from the lady, then a sob, and finally her light footsteps as she fled the room, but he continued to sit and stare out the window for some time, refusing to turn. All his hopes and plans were ashes. Elizabeth had not warmed to him as he had hoped. No, she still held him in low regard. What else could explain her jumping to such an unjust conclusion? It did not matter that he was right and she wrong. It would not signify that she might apologize later. The point was she did not trust him, and that had to be rooted in her disinclination. It was foolish to believe any longer that he could change her mind about him.

Elizabeth Bennet would never be his. He could not stay in Hertfordshire a moment longer.

He turned anguished eyes to his thoroughly mortified valet. “Bartholomew, pack my trunks. We leave for London as soon as may be.”

Chapter 18

A
DISTRAUGHT
E
LIZABETH DISCOVERED
upon leaving the parlor that there was an audience to her confrontation with Mr. Darcy. Not only was Mr. Darcy’s nurse without but so were Lydia, Kitty, and Mrs. Bennet. To her horror, Elizabeth also saw Mary, Georgiana, and Mrs. Annesley standing in the doorway of the sitting room across the hall, a piece of music in Mary’s limp hand. Elizabeth was convinced that the whole of the household had been witness to her shame.

“What have you done, you foolish child? Why were you shouting at Mr. Darcy? Do you wish to shatter all your chances with him?” She took Elizabeth by the forearm. “Explain yourself, young lady!”

Elizabeth could not say anything for all the world. Instead, she shook off Mrs. Bennet’s grasp and fled upstairs as fast as her feet could take her. Only her familiarity with the house prevented her from harm, for her tears had quite blinded her. In a moment, she was in her room, locking her door before her shocked sisters, who had followed. Throwing herself onto her bed, Elizabeth gave over to her injured sensibilities and drenched her pillow with weeping, ignoring the pounding and pleading from the hallway.

Her mind was in anguish. How could she so misconstrue what had happened? How could she have said so many hateful things to Mr. Darcy? Was it true? Had he and her father secured new positions for Sally and all of her family? Why would Mr. Darcy do that? And why was it that she continued to think the worst of him?

The pain in Mr. Darcy’s eyes, the coldness of his dismissal! Elizabeth had observed it, and instantly understood — her power was sinking; everything
must
sink under such a proof of insensibility, such an assurance of irrational behavior and insulting speech, of hateful opinions and unjust accusations! Elizabeth felt herself in the deepest disgrace. How Mr. Darcy must hate her! She could neither wonder nor condemn.

Elizabeth’s pain was complete. Never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved him as now when all love must be vain. For she knew now that Mr. Darcy was indeed the man to suit her in temperament and talents, that he met her every expectation of marital felicity! And by actions she could only blame on herself, she had unforgivably insulted the man she had secretly grown to adore.

It was in every way horrible!

* * *

Darcy sat motionless in his wheel-chair, barely reacting to the chaos about him. Georgiana had come in after Elizabeth fled and fervently pleaded that he change his mind, remain at Longbourn, and talk again with Elizabeth, but he withstood her impassioned entreaties with seeming stoicism. He had patted her hand, said it was, of course, unfortunate, but his mind was made up.

He ordered a concerned Mrs. Annesley to see to Georgiana’s packing and an unusually compliant Bartholomew to send a note to Netherfield informing Colonel Fitzwilliam of his new plans. From the hallway, Darcy could hear Mrs. Bennet’s nearly hysterical appeals for understanding and forgiveness of her wayward daughter, but he made no response. He only sat and stewed in anguish.

Darcy had labored for weeks to change Elizabeth’s opinion of him, but that day’s disaster had proved the lady was not to be moved. Oh yes, she could now talk to him in a civil manner when it suited her and even be cordial on occasion, but her heart was forever out of his reach. He could no longer bear to be in her presence if he was never to find happiness with her.

Mr. Bennet came in. “Mr. Darcy, I must speak with you.”

Darcy’s eyes flicked at the older man before he returned his gaze to the window. “I must ask you to excuse me.”

“I know you would prefer it otherwise, but I insist. Will you do me the honor of speaking with me?”

Darcy tried to resist Mr. Bennet’s persistence. “Sir, this is neither the time nor the place.”

“I disagree. This is exactly the time and place. This concerns my daughter, and I WILL speak with you.”

Mr. Bennet’s steely tone broke through Darcy’s stubbornness. “Very well. Pray excuse us, Bartholomew.” The two gentlemen remained silent while the servant vacated the room. Finally, Darcy spoke again. “You seem to have something on your mind, Mr. Bennet. Say what you must, and leave me in peace.”

Mr. Bennet took a moment to cross into the room, take a chair, and gaze penetratingly at Darcy. “I do not pretend to understand fully what has occurred here this morning, but I fear there has been great misunderstanding. I would like to do what I can to rectify it.”

Darcy would not allow Mr. Bennet to see his pain; he steadfastly refused to meet his gaze. “Did Miss Elizabeth send you?”

“She did not. You are troubled; your bitterness is apparent. I assume you have quarreled with Elizabeth. As her father, I can demand you tell me what this is all about, but I would prefer to discuss it man-to-man, rather than father-to-suitor.”

Harsh was Darcy’s rejoinder. “I am no one’s suitor as your daughter has made abundantly clear.”

There was a quick intake of breath. “Ah, Lizzy’s temper, is it? Did you insult her again?”

That caught Darcy’s attention. “What?” He whirled upon the older man and was astonished to see a smile on his face.

“Forgive me. I disliked speaking to the back of your head.” More seriously, Mr. Bennet continued, “Now, I know that Lizzy is upset and has fled upstairs. You are angry, and I heard loud voices. I can only assume a quarrel has taken place. What has happened in my house?”

Darcy could not deny that Mr. Bennet had a right to know. “Miss Elizabeth laid charges against my character — unfounded charges this time. She has made it plain that her opinion of me is so low that she can only assume base motives for the smallest of my actions.”

“What in the world brought this on?’

“She accused me of having your former maid, Sally, dismissed and sent away from Meryton because she spilled wine on me.”

“Indeed? I wonder how she could have come to that conclusion or even known that Sally was gone. I told Mrs. Bennet about the girl only this morning, and I believe that Lizzy and Jane had already left the house.” He sighed. “I am afraid I warned you about Lizzy and secrets.” He stopped. “Am I to understand that she has disparaged your character before?”