Happy first of May to everyone! We have successfully made it into a new month. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please let me know in your comments.
The atmosphere in the Gardiner household was more cheerful the morning after the assembly. The sun shone brightly and there was a freshness in the air that had not been present before. Jane was happy because she had seen Bingley and had reason to think she would see him again. Mrs. Gardiner was happy because Jane was happy. And Mr. Gardiner was happy because he had found out the night before that one of his investments had come to fruition and paid off handsomely. Elizabeth was the only one who had little to say at the breakfast table. Her preoccupation was not noticed by Mrs Gardiner and Jane, who could not stop speaking of the evening before.
"Charlotte's engagement was the talk of the night!" Mrs. Gardiner was saying. "What a fine thing for her! Lady Lucas had nearly given up on ever getting Charlotte settled in a home of her own. People will talk, of course, given the ages of the gentleman and the lady. But I doubt Charlotte will let such silliness sway her."
"She does not mind the age difference, nor the opinions of others," Jane confirmed. "Her only thought was to secure a home of her own and not be a burden on her family."
"She has always been a sensible girl," her aunt agreed. "Her mother will sleep better at night, knowing Charlotte will be so well set up. Jane, people were also talking about you."
"About me? What were they saying?"
"They were saying that you and Mr. Bingley make a handsome couple, and I heard one lady say that you might make even a better match than Charlotte!"
"Oh, I wish they would not say such things!" Jane exclaimed. "I feel so conscious! It would be so much easier to speak with him if I did not know people were watching us!"
"Try not to let it trouble you, my dear. People talk about anything that draws their attention, whether it is an unattached gentleman or the latest style of shoe rose. But they will find something else to gossip about quickly enough."
"Was nobody talking about Darcy?" Gardiner now joined the conversation. "I heard he was there, though I did not encounter him myself. But if Bingley was in attendance then Darcy likely was as well. There was such a crowd that I could not be certain. I suppose you, Lizzy, did not happen to run into him, or you likely would have mentioned it."
Answering this question honestly was impossible without awkward questions following. Elizabeth was saved from the effort by the arrival of Jules, who went straight to Mrs. Gardiner, sitting down next to her at the table as naturally as if he had done so all his life. Mrs. Gardiner greeted him affectionately while Elizabeth took food from her own plate and arranged it on the dishes in front of the child. Jules nodded shyly at the other adults in the room before he started eating.
As she smoothed Jules' rough hair with her hand Elizabeth thought of Darcy's question from the night before. "Have you been able to discover anything new about Jules' family?" she asked her uncle, in English.
"I finally discovered what seems to be a record of his birth in the church register," her uncle answered.
"Then you know who his parents are!" Jane exclaimed.
"Not quite. There was no father listed." Jane's face fell. "And the boy's mother is thought to have moved away years ago. That is all anyone seems to know of his family, except for what little Jules has told us himself."
"Where is your mama, Jules?" Elizabeth asked the child plaintively, now speaking in French. She continued stroking his hair. She did not particularly expect an answer, as Jules had been asked the same question before and had given only a minimal answer.
But this time Jules spoke freely, not looking up as he spread butter on a piece of bread. "My mama was very sick. She was sick for a long time. Then she died and they took her away."
Eliabeth's heart nearly stopped. "Who took her away, Jules?" The boy merely shrugged. "And then what happened?"
"Then I had to live by myself." Jules said matter of factly. He leaned down to pet Cozette, who had come to lean against his legs, and smiled. "Cozette a faim. Puis-je lui donner de la nourriture?"
Mrs. Gardiner responded, in French, "Yes, Cozette probably is hungry. You may give her a piece of your egg if you want."
"Merci." Jules dropped a piece of egg to the waiting animal, who swallowed it and then jumped on the child's lap. Jules giggled as he caressed her in return.
The four adults in the room looked at each other rather helplessly. "This explains why we have not found anything about his family," Mr. Gardiner said, stating the obvious. "I suppose we will have to decide what to do with him now." Elizabeth looked down at the innocent child, so unaware of the forces at work in his life, and drew him close. What would the boy's ultimate fate be?
In the afternoon it was sometimes Elizabeth's habit to find and purchase flowers that her aunt would use to grace the table at dinner. Mrs. Gardiner was fond of bright colors in pleasing arrangements, and Elizabeth had taken it upon herself to provide them whenever needed. Jane usually stayed home, as she preferred to remain indoors when possible. But the long walk to locate the blooms and bring them home mimicked the rambles Elizabeth had often taken outdoors when she lived at Longbourn and let her enjoy the sights of the city. Jules, too, enjoyed the activity.
So it was that this afternoon found Jules and Elizabeth on their way to Elizabeth's favorite vendor, an ancient woman who plied her wares from a cart on a busy corner over a mile from the Gardiner home. There were other vendors who were closer, but Elizabeth chose to patronize this one, surmising from her overall appearance how much she needed the income. She and Jules walked hand in hand, but Elizabeth's mind was not entirely on the child next to her. The walk gave her plenty of time to reflect on recent events.
What had possessed her, the night before, to speak to Darcy the way she had? All she had needed was an escape from Wickham; why didn't she simply endure one dance with Darcy and then walk away? Why did she have to be so impertinent to him? Darcy was sure to tell her uncle what had occurred and then she would face any number of uncomfortable questions.
Not that she had said anything false. She truly believed that what she said the night before was true: Darcy was presumptuous and had an elevated view of himself. He believed he could have what he wanted, simply because of his station in life. But she could not explain her accusations to her uncle without bringing up Wickham's name. She probably should have told her uncle immediately about meeting Wickham in the park that day, as Jane had suggested, but it was too late. Now she was in a difficult spot, where her own omissions were sure to come back on her head. The longer this went on, the more awkward her explanations would become.
"I hear a noise." Jules' voice broke into her brooding. He pulled up short, standing stock still. "What is that?"
Elizabeth stopped as well. They had just entered the business district, where there were shops on all sides and generally a good number of people on the sidewalks. But in her preoccupation she had not noticed that the sidewalks were strangely empty, the businesses appeared closed. The doors were locked and the windows shuttered. "Is there a holiday?" she asked aloud, looking about.
Then she heard the sound that must have caught Jules' attention. Not too far off there was a noise of footsteps running, and a distant shout. There were more footsteps, coming from both ahead and behind them, distant angry cries, and a sound of shattering glass. She was overcome with a sense of foreboding.
"Can we go back to Monsieur Gardiner's?" The boy's eyes were wide.
"We shall, but we will have to find a way there. I think whatever is happening is-" She stopped mid-sentence; a movement at the end of the street, perhaps fifty yards away caught her eye. A man wearing a red revolutionary hat darted furtively past the point where this street intersected with the next; he was holding a bottle in his hand and crying something she could not make out. A moment later there was a sound of shattering glass.
"What is happening?" Elizabeth didn't realize she had spoken out loud. A group of men and women, at least a score, came into view at the same intersection, some running and some marching. They were shouting angrily and gesturing with torches at the buildings around them. From that general direction there were more cries, first of anger, then of dismay. More crashing and breaking of glass came to their ears.
Elizabeth had seen this once before, from the safety of a window high in the Gardiner house. Some event had caught the attention of the people of Paris and spurred them to anger. Now they would run amok through the streets, destroying property randomly, expressing their anger in unpredictable ways. Nobody could tell where they would go next, or what they might do. And she and Jules were in the middle of it. They were in terrible danger. "We must leave the street immediately."
Jules said nothing but his hand in hers tightened and he drew closer to her. Elizabeth had to decide quickly. "We will turn around," she said, "and go down a different street to get home." But even as she spoke the words there was a sound of breaking glass from behind her. Looking towards that end of the street she saw that it was filling rapidly with other Frenchmen, some of them breaking off in random directions.
"This way!" Elizabeth turned again, but the crowd was at the first end of the street, with stragglers breaking off. Two men had already turned the corner and were making their way towards her, with bricks in their hands, readying themselves to hurl the projectiles. She looked wildly at the buildings around them, hoping somebody would look out and take pity on their plight, but the doors and windows were all shut. Nobody could even see them. There was no opening anywhere.
They were trapped. Both ends of the street were now filled with a roiling mass of humanity intent on destruction. They were already spilling into the street where she and Jules now pressed up close against one of the buildings, hoping not to be seen. Elizabeth could feel Jules trembling against her; her own heart pounded fast as she waited to see what would happen next. What would the rioters do when they reached them?
"Elizabeth! This way, quickly!" Elizabeth turned her head at the sound. As if conjured from thin air, Darcy stood at Elizabeth's elbow, his hair wild and his jacket askew.
"What?" she exclaimed, unable to believe her eyes.
"There is an opening!" There was no time for discussion. Darcy did not wait but seized her hand and pulled her across the street. She could barely keep up with him. Jules ran alongside as Darcy guided them to a narrow opening in the row of buildings that Elizabeth had not noticed before. Builders had long ago left this small gap between two buildings; it was wide enough to fit a person through, but only just barely. How had Darcy known it was here? And where had he come from to begin with?
Jules entered the passageway first, and after a wild eyed look at Darcy, Elizabeth did the same. She looked back at Darcy but he cried, "No, go on! Straight ahead! Run!"
She obeyed, twisting slightly, moving at an angle to negotiate the narrow passageway. The passage was only about forty feet and she soon came through to the other side. Elizabeth, reaching for Jules, paused to look about her. This street was deserted; there were no rioters, but she could hear their cries.
Darcy, emerging behind her, did not pause. 'We must keep moving. They will be here soon! This way!" He pulled at her again, and they were off once more.
The next few minutes were a blur of running and pausing, of turning and listening, and then turning a corner and running again. Elizabeth was beyond any area that was familiar to her. She knew only that Darcy was directing them away from the sounds of shouts, cries, and general mayhem. She could not stop to ask him the questions that were racing through her mind. How had he known where she was, and how did he know where he was taking her? But these questions would have to wait; for now, she could only follow his directions and ensure that Jules stayed close at all times.
At length they rounded a corner and nearly stumbled into an area that looked familiar, though it took a moment for her mind's eye to take it in. There were open sky, a green lawn, plus a particular arrangement of trees she loved. Though she had not viewed them from this angle before, Elizabeth recognized the landmarks. "This is the park near my uncle's home!"
"We are safe, at least for the moment," Darcy agreed, pulling up short. "Jules, are you well? Did we move too quickly for you?" The boy said nodded solemnly, panting, although Darcy was not even short winded. Then Darcy turned his attention to Elizabeth.
"Miss Bennet, are you all right?"
Elizabeth was breathing heavily, pulling in air as she fought to catch her breath. At the same time she was struggling to absorb what had just happened. She and Jules had been in a perilous situation. They had had to run for their lives. Darcy had found them and rescued them. Without his aid, she and Jules might have- she could not finish the thought. She clenched one hand over her chest, trying to catch her labored breathing.
"Come, Miss Bennet." Darcy's hand was on her elbow, leading her towards a nearby bench. "You must sit down; you look very ill."
"No, I thank you, I just-" Rarely had Elizabeth been so incoherent. She had spurned this man the evening before, and in return he had saved her life. Words escaped her and her emotions took control. She covered her face with her hands as she burst into tears.
"Hush, all is well." Darcy placed one arm around her. When she did not object he placed his other arm around her and drew her to him so that her head was against his chest. "Elizabeth, do not cry. There is nothing to fear. You are safe now. Nothing will harm you." He pulled her close as she let the tears flow.
They stood this way for long moments, heedless of whoever might see them. Elizabeth's sobs began to subside as she slowly became aware of her situation. Darcy was still speaking to her tenderly, and she realized how safe and protected she felt in his arms. She could feel his heart pulse against her ear, calm and reassuring. His warmth flowed through her, imbuing her with strength. But where was Jules? Then she felt a diminutive hand in her own and a small body pressing against her on her other side. She wished this sweet, sheltered feeling might go on forever.
But it had to end. Darcy was the first to break their contact. He released her and she stepped back shakily, her legs still unsteady. "Are you better now, Miss Bennet?"
She wiped the last of the tears away from her face. "I cannot thank you enough for coming to our aid just when we needed you most, Mr. Darcy. Whatever would we have done?"
"I will take you home now. You are not entirely safe yet; the disturbance may spread." Darcy's voice had changed. It was now stern and clipped, not gentle as it had been moments earlier. "We only stopped here so that you could catch your breath."
"Of course; I understand." She did not blame him for his response. Darcy was being a gentleman, nothing more. He would not regain any warm feelings for her simply because she had been in a position requiring his aid. "Come, Jules."
Darcy offered his arm and she took it, but they had little conversation on the short walk back to her uncle's home. Darcy's face was wary, his attention focused on their surroundings, glancing about them continuously, alert for any signs of danger. Though Elizabeth was walking at his side she could not help feeling as though she were miles away. And she had only herself to blame.
Darcy had been more of a gentleman than Wickham could ever be, she realized. He had gone out of his way not just to give a lady assistance, but to put himself in peril for the sake of one who had rejected him. He had behaved with both honor and courage, a gentleman's most essential traits. And if Darcy truly was a gentleman and Wickham was not, then all of Wickham's assertions were cast in doubt.
Yet just when she most wanted to ask Darcy about the other man's accusations, she had forfeited the opportunity to do so. She and Darcy would never again be anything but polite acquaintances. Now that it was too late, she felt all the force of what she had lost.
At the Gardiner's doorstep the door was thrown open by her uncle, who exclaimed, "Elizabeth! Thank God you are safe! Your aunt has been sick with worry!"
"Miss Bennet has had an upsetting experience. She should rest." Darcy did not look at Elizabeth, though she still leaned on his arm.
"And Jules? Is he all right?" Gardiner's face was still anxious.
Darcy allowed himself a small smile as he looked down at the boy. "Master Jules was very brave. He never faltered or complained."
"I tried to be as brave as the Fleur de Lis!" Jules exclaimed, before throwing his arms around Gardiner's legs.
"The Fleur de Lis would be very proud of you!" Gardiner leaned down to lay a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Very proud indeed!" Darcy agreed.
Elizabeth watched in silence. There was something odd about this conversation, but she could not think what it might be. She frowned as she tried to identify the missing element. Nothing that Jules or the two men said had been out of place, so why did their conversation seem so strange? Then Gardiner stood again and motioned to a manservant who stood nearby. The servant led Jules into the house and the moment was gone.
Gardiner stepped back to let Elizabeth in. "Your aunt and sister have been anxious. They heard there was a disturbance. You should go to them immediately."
Elizabeth dropped Darcy's arm and passed through the doorway. Just past the threshold, she turned to look back at him.
"Thank you again, Mr. Darcy, from the bottom of my heart. I truly appreciate what you have done."
He bowed stiffly. "There is no need for thanks. It was only a gentleman's duty." He barely even looked at her.
"Nevertheless, I would like to- that is, I-" For once, words failed her. There were so many things to say, but she could not formulate the words for any of them. She was still overwhelmed with the events of the day, too overcome with emotion to express herself rationally. Threatening tears choked her voice.
"Go in, Lizzy." Her uncle's voice was gentle. "You and Darcy can speak later."
"Yes, uncle." She turned away sadly, knowing that later would probably never happen.