Page 107 of Dear Friend

“No.” Darcy looked away. “I meant to tell her that evening, along with everything else, but Caroline reached her first. By the time Elizabeth confronted me, she would scarcely hear an explanation and left before I could tell her.”

Richard stared at him. “Darcy, she does not know her friend is alive?”

“That is what I said, Richard.” Darcy’s hand settled upon the travelling case. “We shall see Miss Harding first. Afterwards, Elizabeth must be informed, whether by you, Bingley, or some other means which does not require me to disregard her wishes.”

Richard considered this before nodding. “And if Miss Harding remembers her?”

“Then Elizabeth will have more than a message.”

Richard regarded him for another moment before glancing towards the clock upon the mantel. “We ought to leave. Visiting time at the infirmary is generally awake at this hour, and if we arrive after the physician begins his rounds, we may be obliged to wait.”

Darcy took up the case. “Your carriage is ready, I suppose.”

“Of course it is.”

They left the room together and crossed the hall, where their coats and hats were waiting. When a servant stepped forward to relieve Darcy of the case, he retained his hold upon it and shook his head. The letters had followed him from Somerset to Hertfordshire when they ought never to have followed him anywhere, and he would carry them himself for the final part of their journey.

Within minutes, he and Richard were descending the steps towards the waiting carriage. Darcy climbed inside and placed the case beside him, keeping one hand upon it as the horses moved off.

Whatever became of Elizabeth and himself was no longer his to determine. For now, there was only Julia Harding, her father, and a collection of letters which had at last begun their journey to the woman for whom they had always been intended.

Chapter Thirty-Six

28th November 1811

London

Darcy

Darcy stared at the young woman seated before him and could not help thinking that the resemblance was uncanny. Miss Harding was younger, thinner from her illness and so pale that the blue veins at her temples were visible beneath her skin, yet there was something about the shape of her face and the dark eyes studying him which reminded him immediately of Elizabeth.

He wondered whether long friendship had somehow taught them similar expressions, for the slight narrowing of her eyes as she regarded him was painfully familiar.

Darcy had first spoken privately with Mr. Harding upon his arrival, explaining in as much detail as he could who he was, how he had come to Willowbrook, and why he was now there. Mr. Harding knew little of Elizabeth Bennet beyond what his late sister-in-law, Mrs. Turnley, had mentioned of his daughter’s friend and what Richard had since told him, but he had listened patiently to Darcy’s account and was willing to try anything which might help Julia recover some part of what she had forgotten.

Now, with her physicians having given their consent, Julia sat across from Darcy in her father’s room, and he could not help wondering how he had failed to imagine the resemblance.

“You have offered to settle my father’s debts, Mr. Darcy, and Colonel Fitzwilliam tells us you are willing to provide whatever assistance he may require after leaving here.” Julia glanced towards her father, who remained propped against several pillows in the infirmary bed, before looking again at Darcy. “Forgive me, but I do not understand why. I do not remember ever meeting you.”

“You have not.”

“Then what have my father and I done to deserve so much from you?”

Darcy glanced briefly at Richard before returning his attention to her. His cousin had already explained enough of the Hardings’ circumstances for Darcy to make his offer, and Mr. Harding, after considerable hesitation, had accepted it. The older man had thanked him several times since, but Julia’s confusion had only increased with every particular discussed.

“You have done nothing, Miss Harding, and I expect nothing from either of you in return.” Darcy reached down for the travelling case beside his chair and rested it upon his knees. “There is, however, something I must explain to you. Some months ago, I travelled to Somerset and stayed at Willowbrook.”

Julia’s brows drew together at the name. “We used to live there.”

“You did. I was your landlord.”

“I remember the house, or parts of it.” She looked towards her father as though seeking confirmation. “But not leaving it.”

Mr. Harding reached for her hand. “There is no need to trouble yourself with it now, my dear.”

Darcy waited until Julia looked at him again before continuing. “When I arrived at Willowbrook, I discovered that several letters meant for you had been sent there after you had already left. Others arrived during my stay, and through circumstances which I shall explain to you, they came into my possession.”

He opened the case and removed the bundle. Julia stared at it for several seconds before reaching towards it, though her hand stopped short of touching the letters.