Talk Any Louder
Chapter One
He was a slow writer. He made frequent pauses, every one long and thoughtful. His writing was studied and deliberate. Every sentence was fully formed and edited in his mind before he set the first letter to paper. He would not begin without being certain of the end.
She thought it would have been better to remain ignorant of his habits. She had received one of his studied letters. She had heard his friends banter about how he did not write with ease. This was not the first time that she had learned something about him and immediately realized that she had already known it. Throughout their acquaintance, she had created two sets of catalogues for the study of his character. One set - little truths and details and anecdotes that were collected only to be immediately discarded. The other - misrepresentations and lies, created for the purpose of flattering herself.
It would have been better to neither notice his habits nor realize the injustice of her own. The guilt of her mistreatment of him was compounded by knowing that he should not be occupying her thoughts. There were more pressing matters at hand than how deliberately Mr. Darcy chose every word he wrote.
He relieved her stress with the obvious resolution of writing a letter - he finished. In his haste to dry the ink, he blew on it, sanded it, and finally shook the paper before he was satisfied that it could be safely sealed. Done, he handed her the letter. On the outside sheet, he had addressed it "Mr. Bennet," with no further direction.
He handed it to her without preamble. "This letter includes an introduction, reasons for my involvement, and explains the actions I intend to take."
She said, "Thank you," without being sure of anything else to add.
"The post would be faster than asking your uncle to hand deliver it, of course, but I fear with ours being so trifling an acquaintance, your father would sooner forget it than read it without his being prompted by Mr. Gardiner."
She could not disagree.
"I should like to wait with you until Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner return," he announced suddenly. "Though I have no doubt of your being more suited to the office, I prefer to explain my involvement to Mr. Gardiner myself."
Having no objection to such a scheme, she nodded. It had been twenty minutes since he arrived. They had spent all of the that time alone, behind a closed door. Her aunt's servants already knew Mr. Darcy came to visit Miss Elizabeth Bennet while she was reading in the parlor. He did not shut the door with the intention of risking her reputation, she was sure. No, she was under the impression he had come with the intention of renewing his addresses.
When they were first reunited at his estate, Elizabeth feared he might have thought she was trying to trap him. She had spurned the offer of his hand the first time he made it - an event that was clearly a shock to him. Her refusal had been made with particularly abusive language. It would not have been unreasonable for him to suppose she had reevaluated his proposal and had decided to see if she could tempt him again.
She had been eager to make him aware of the truth of the situation. She was simply traveling with an aunt and uncle. The former, having grown up in Lambton and still having some friends there, had induced the party to enter the neighborhood. She further wanted to see Pemberley, the greatest estate the area, renowned for its beautiful grounds. Though Elizabeth was reluctant to visit the home of a man whose love she had spurned, she found herself unable to deny her aunt's request. By all accounts, he was not at home and she was easily persuaded by the promise of interesting walks and picturesque prospects.
Elizabeth had been eager to explain herself. He was eager to introduce her to the party of friends he traveled with. She was delighted by his sister. He, using the sister as a proxy, issued an invitation for her party to dine with his.
With every encounter, Elizabeth became more and more assured of Mr. Darcy's continuing regard. Where she had once felt only indignation at the idea of his admiration, she had begun to feel grateful. It was not only that he loved her that inspired these feelings, but that he continued to love her despite the way she had treated him and the dreadful accusations she had hurled at him.
Elizabeth had last seen him only the day before. She felt on that occasion, that if she wished, she could induce him to renew his address with only a small bit of encouragement. They had made no plans to see one another today, though the earlier dinner invitation had still gone unfulfilled.
Mr. Darcy appeared at her lodgings regardless. Elizabeth was quite alone, curled up in the parlor with two letters from Jane. Her aunt and uncle, knowing how much she had coveted these letters set out on a walk so that she might have time to read in peace.
He appeared, lead into the parlor by a maid who disappeared after receiving his hat and gloves. With his customary deliberation, he shut the door behind himself. Desiring privacy over propriety, Mr. Darcy could have only one goal in mind when he entered. His reasons for visiting unannounced were soon forgotten when he saw her.
Doubled over in her chair, Elizabeth was weeping over the news Jane related. Upon seeing her in tears, Mr. Darcy had been by her side immediately. He offered everything for her relief that he could think of - wine, the servants to help her, to fetch her aunt and uncle who had abandoned her in her time of need.
The entire account soon tumbled from her lips: her youngest sister left the household of her friends in the middle of the night to elope with a man who could have no serious designs on her.
Jane's hurried letters gave the particulars of what had been attempted by her father to recover the fugitives. Mr. Bennet had met with no success beyond a reason to believe the couple had not journeyed farther than London. This itself was cause for alarm, for while it was easy enough to be quietly married in town, it was easier still to hide away and never be found. From Mr. Darcy's account of Mr. Wickham's history, Elizabeth had no reason to suppose that her sister would soon be married. Mr. Wickham would not be tempted without a fortune that Lydia did not possess. She was ruined and all her relations were tainted by the connection. Elizabeth had not the faintest hope that she would ever see her sister again.
"I am grieved," he had said. "Shocked. Is it certain, absolutely certain?"
She replied that it was.
"What has been done to recover her?"
"My father has gone to London. Jane writes to beg my uncle's assistance."
"He shall have it. Mine as well, if he will allow it. Your writing desk," he prompted, "where is it?"
The portable cabinet of Elizabeth's writing things sat upon a table in the corner of the parlor. She gestured to it. Immediately, Mr. Darcy sat himself before it, appropriating Elizabeth's paper, pen, ink, knife and sander.
It was surreal to watch him bent at a woman's writing desk. He neither knew nor respected the girl in question, yet he sat penning a missive seeking her father's permission to assist in her recovery. On her first day at Pemberley, Elizabeth had begun to understand that was his way. Hundreds of people relied on him for their livelihoods, from the servants and tenants to the villagers who did business with the Pemberley household. Responsible and good-natured, he provided for them all. It mattered not to Mr. Darcy that Lydia's own thoughtlessness played a role in her disgrace. He had the resources to assist her. Therefore, he would do so.
"It is not my intention to give you false hope," he added, after receiving permission to wait with Elizabeth for her uncle's return. "I believe myself to be tolerably acquainted with Mr. Wickham's habits and friends. I have a greater chance of locating your sister than your father does."
"It is more than we deserve," Elizabeth said stiffly. "You need not take on my family's mortification as your own."
"Miss Bennet," he protested, kneeling before her chair, "You know as well as I that this could have been avoided. His history reflects poorly on my family. I was too proud to reveal what he was, though I knew quality people might suffer for the ignorance."
She smiled, ruefully. "I could say the same for myself."
Gently, he disagreed. "I demanded secrecy from you. That you were generous enough to grant it speaks only well of you."
"You were seeking to protect Miss Darcy. Such a dear girl! Who could help but protect her!" Though her acquaintance with Mr. Darcy's sister was so brief it barely deserved the name, Elizabeth could easily imagine the feelings of such a girl's brother. "Her reputation should not be tarnished for the sakes of people she had never met, in a place no one had ever heard of. A lady's reputation is delicate. It is not pride to guard it zealously."
Persisting in the argument, Mr. Darcy replied, "An illustration of his character need not require naming the young ladies he has shamed."
"Then take what solace you can in that no one would have believed you had you said a word," Elizabeth said frankly. "The only difference would be that we would feel foolish now, for having not believed you when we had the chance."
Mr. Darcy smiled and said warmly, "You believed me, my harshest critic. Why should all of Meryton not follow suit?"
"I am a vain creature. You were clever enough to flatter me before telling me that which I did not want to hear."
"I think," he said cautiously, "that which I intended to flatter you and that which you did not want to hear were, at one time, one in the same."
"That," Elizabeth replied, too honest to say anything else, "I cannot deny." He looked away. "But I saw the compliment soon enough."
Mr. Darcy seized her hand. "Miss Bennet -"
Behind him, the parlor door swung open, announcing the return of the Gardiners and the servant sent to fetch them. Elizabeth rose to her feet. In quick succession, Mr. Darcy dropped her hand as though touching her skin had burned him, rose to his full height, spun to face the couple and bowed his greeting. "Mrs. Gardiner. Mr. Gardiner."
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner's curiosity could not be sated soon enough. The servant Mr. Darcy had sent caught them and bid them to return to the inn immediately, which had given them both alarm. This transformed into a sort of satisfaction once they learned from the innkeeper who was upstairs with their niece. They had both supposed there to be more to Elizabeth's friendship with Mr. Darcy than she had acknowledged. A tete-a-tete between an engaged couple was acceptable, provided it was brief. Elizabeth's tear-streaked face and Mr. Darcy's grave manner upon their entrance gave both aunt and uncle a new sense of anxiety.
They both thought too well of Mr. Darcy to suspect him of any wrong-doing, but Elizabeth was under their protection and the sight of her in tears while alone with this man was enough for Mr. Gardiner to demand, "What is the meaning of this, sir?"
"Please," Elizabeth answered, stepping around Mr. Darcy, "I've had dreadful news from Longbourn." Frantically, she collected the pages of Jane's letters and tried to put them into some sort of order before giving them to her uncle. Mr. Darcy took this opportunity to put more space between himself and Elizabeth. Mrs. Gardiner took up his office of comforting Elizabeth while her uncle familiarized himself with all that Jane had relayed.
"Mrs. Gardiner," her husband said in clipped tones, "have the servants pack our things. We must return to London immediately. I'll pen an express, letting my brother know I am on my way."
"Mr. Gardiner," his lady protested, "What in Heaven's name is going on?"
"Lydia has eloped," Elizabeth said, her voice straining. "My father has cause to believe she is in London. Jane begs for Uncle's assistance."
"I shall arrange to have our things packed and loaded onto the carriage," Mrs. Gardiner affirmed. "We must leave within the hour."
"You should go first to Longbourn," Mr. Darcy advised. "Mr. Gardiner's presence is London, however welcome, is likely to be less needed than Miss Elizabeth's by her mother and sisters."
"How fortunate we are that it is on the way," Elizabeth said wryly.
"I shall go immediately to town," Mr. Darcy told the collected party. "With any luck, I will have located Mr. Wickham and Miss Lydia before you arrive, Mr. Gardiner."
"You, sir?" he sputtered in surprise.
"I was fortunate enough to pass most of my youth with Mr. Wickham," he answered. "I am well acquainted with his friends and habits. I believe this task is best left to me."
Mrs. Gardiner had by now left to fulfill the tasks that she had been assigned, leaving Elizabeth the only witness to the discourse of the two men. Every glance at her pale, anxious face steadied Mr. Darcy's resolve. She could not suffer without him taking every action in his power to relieve her. Every glance made by the young gentleman towards his niece softened Mr. Gardiner's resolve. The recovery of Lydia was her family's responsibility; her disgrace was their disgrace. Mr. Darcy's interest was not that of a lord or a patron, but a lover and a brother. Elizabeth would be his wife; Lydia, his own sister. If her recovery was the responsibility of her family, then surely that included Mr. Darcy.
Once he had Mr. Gardiner's acquiescence, Mr. Darcy nodded to Elizabeth. "I have given Miss Elizabeth a letter for her father. It explains my relationship with Mr. Wickham and what I intend to do for Miss Lydia. I shall ride for London this morning. Send word once you have been reunited with Mr. Bennet, and he has read the letter. Miss Elizabeth," he requested, "allow me use of your writing desk once more that I may write the direction for Mr. Gardiner."
"Of course."
It took Mr. Darcy only a moment to complete that task. Then, as though realizing that he, too, must have his journey prepared if he hoped to leave when promised, he made his good-byes. To Mr. Gardiner, he asked that his compliments to Mrs. Gardiner be delivered, and looked forward to having better news to share in London. Elizabeth offered her hand and, taking it, Mr. Darcy bowed. Rather than release her, he studied her hand for a long moment before drawing it up to his mouth. He kissed her knuckles with something like reverence.
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