Page 19 of Time Stands Still

“My intentions, sir,” Darcy said, his voice clear and steady, “are of the most honourable kind. It is my fervent wish to make Miss Bennet my wife.”

Mr. Gardiner’s stern expression softened into profound astonishment. He sat down, regarding Darcy with a new, searching look. “Your wife? Sir, you have known my niece but a short time. And you must be aware that her position in life, her fortune, are… well, they are not such as to normally attract the notice of a man of your standing.”

“They are of no consequence to me,” Darcy stated firmly. “Her character, her mind, and her heart are all that I value. In these, she is without equal.”

The sincerity in his tone seemed to impress Mr. Gardiner. “I see,” he said slowly. He paused, his gaze growing thoughtful. “My wife, you know, was raised in Lambton, not five miles from Pemberley. We are not ignorant of your family’s reputation, Mr. Darcy. Your father was held in the highest esteem as a man of great integrity.”

The mention of his father, and the implied weight of that legacy, struck Darcy. This good man was offering him a thread of trust, woven from a respect that Darcy himself had not yet earned. The shame returned, sharper this time.

“It is on the strength of that reputation, sir,” Mr. Gardiner continued, “and on the evidence of your present sincerity, that I am inclined to trust you. My niece’s happiness is of the utmost importance to us. I will not stand in the way of a match that might secure it, but I must have your assurance that you will proceed with the propriety and respect she is due, and that you understand the depth of her worth.”

“You have my word, sir,” Darcy replied, the words carried the weight of a solemn vow. “Indeed, it is my own profound respect for your niece that brings me here. On that note, I had hoped to take this immediate opportunity to introduce her to my own sister. I have just invited her, and Miss Bennet, to dine at Darcy House this evening, that they may become acquainted.”

Mr. Gardiner considered this, his expression thoughtful. Darcy hoped the invitation would be understood for what it was: a significant step, an immediate offer of inclusion into his family circle that spoke more plainly of his intentions than words ever could. After a long moment, Mr. Gardiner’s features relaxed slightly. “That would be most… appropriate,” he concluded, rising from his chair and extending his hand. “Very well, Mr. Darcy. You have my tentative approval. Let us return to the ladies.”

In a flurry of excitement, the sisters made themselves ready. Darcy led them from the house and handed them into his waiting carriage, a befuddled Mrs. Gardiner and a thoughtful Mr. Gardiner watching them go. The carriage pulled away, heading towards Darcy House and the introduction of his sister.

Chapter Fourteen

The journey from Gracechurch Street to Darcy House was, for Darcy, a thing of profound and unsettling significance. He was bringing Elizabeth Bennet to his home, presenting her to his sister and his household. In the eyes of the world, and more importantly, in his own heart, he was introducing the future mistress of Pemberley. He felt a fierce, protective pride in the thought, a sense of rightness that settled deep in his bones. Yet, the knowledge that for her, this was merely a role she was playing, a part in the stratagem they had concocted to justify their journey, was a sharp and painful counterpoint.

The surprise on his butler's face upon opening the door was masked by a practised neutrality, yet the man’s eyes betrayed his astonishment. “Mr. Darcy, sir. We were not expecting you.”

“My plans changed unexpectedly, Evans,” Darcy said, handing the man his hat and gloves. “These are our guests, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. They will be dining with my sister and me this evening. Is Miss Darcy in her parlour?”

“She is, sir, with Mrs. Annesley,” the butler replied, his gaze flickering with professional curiosity towards the two ladies who now stood in the grand entryway of his London residence.

He led them to Georgiana’s rooms, where his sister and her companion, Mrs. Annesley, were sat together with a book. Both looked up as he entered, their expressions of placid companionship shifting to surprise.

“Fitzwilliam! I had no notion you were in London,” Georgiana exclaimed, rising to her feet as Mrs. Annesley did the same.

“Georgie,” he said, his voice softening as he went to her, placing a kiss upon her brow. “Forgive the intrusion. I have brought some acquaintances to meet you.” He turned to include her companion. “Georgiana, Mrs. Annesley, allow me to present Miss Jane Bennet and her sister, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Introductions were made all around. His sister, he noted with a familiar pang of sympathy, performed a small, uncertain curtsy, her eyes downcast. Elizabeth, seeing the girl’s apprehension, returned the gesture with a warm and reassuring smile that seemed to radiate genuine kindness. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Darcy,” she said, her voice gentle.

The genuineness of her tone seemed to steady Georgiana’s nerves. Miss Bennet offered her own sweet smile, and the initial fright of the unexpected visit began to dissipate. As they all sat and waited for dinner to be announced, Georgiana, seeking a safe topic, turned to her brother. “I trust Aunt Catherine is well? And our cousin Richard? And Anne?”

“They are all in their usual state of health,” Darcy replied. “Indeed, Richard was in particularly fine spirits. We spent a good deal of time in company with our guests at the parsonage, where, as it happens, Miss Elizabeth has been staying.”

He saw Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley exchange a brief, curious glance. Elizabeth interposed with her usual ease. "Yes, my dear friend has lately married Mr. Collins, Lady Catherine's parson. It was in visiting them that I had the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance with your brother, and of meeting Colonel Fitzwilliam and your aunt."

Dinner was announced, and at the table, Darcy watched, fascinated, as a quiet miracle unfolded. The conversation, which he had expected to be stilted and difficult, was soon put at ease by Miss Bennet's gentle inquiries and Elizabeth’s lively observations. He had seen Elizabeth in company before, of course, but never had he been so keenly aware of the skill with which she navigated the currents of conversation, a skill born not of artifice, but of genuine interest and empathy. She was gently, purposefully, drawing Georgiana out of her shell.

“Your brother tells me you have been in London for some time, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth began. “I hope you are enjoying the season. I confess, after my quiet weeks in Kent, the city seems a rather loud and overwhelming place.”

To Darcy’s surprise, Georgiana, who usually shrank from direct questions from strangers, answered with more ease than he had expected. “It is… very loud. But I enjoy the music, and the galleries.”

“Ah, the galleries!” Elizabeth replied, her eyes twinkling. “I spent an entire morning at one on my last visit, only to find my neck was so sore from looking up at the ceilings that I could not look even Jane in the face for two days.”

The unexpected, artless wit, offered at her own expense, startled a soft, musical laugh from Georgiana, a sound that Darcy rarely heard in company. “I confess I have had the same trouble with a stiff neck,” she admitted, a shy smile on her face.

“You see?” Elizabeth laughed, a sound that seemed to warm the entire room. “It is a common affliction among us admirers of art. We ought to form a society.”

“What about music, Miss Darcy?” Miss Bennet chimed in, her voice as gentle as her manner. “Do you play? My sisters and I make a poor attempt at it at Longbourn, but it brings us a great deal of pleasure.”

This was a subject upon which Georgiana was an expert, yet it was often one she was hesitant to discuss, intimidated by the effusive and often ignorant praise of others. Darcy watched her closely. “I play the pianoforte,” she said quietly.

“Oh, I am a dreadful pianist,” Elizabeth confessed with another cheerful laugh. “My fingers refuse to cooperate, and I have not the patience for the endless hours of practice. I am full of admiration for anyone who has mastered the instrument. Do you have a favourite composer to play?”