Page 54 of Darcy's Guarded Heart
Elizabeth
The back door creaked open, and footsteps echoed through the kitchen. The figure in the shadows halted, removed one boot, and dropped it silently in the corner. He then glided across the kitchen to the chamber on the right. As he opened the door, it let out a soft creak, and just as he was about to step inside—
“How is Georgiana?” Elizabeth enquired, clutching her chair.
“Why are you hiding in the dark?” Thomas asked, ignoring Elizabeth’s question.
“Because I wished to speak to you before the entire household becomes aware of your return,” Elizabeth replied.
“Will you at least light a candle so we need not converse in the dark?” he asked. She rose and struck a match, igniting two candleholders in the centre of the room. With the kitchen now sufficiently illuminated, she looked up. Thomas’s hair was tousled, and as he shrugged off his jacket to hang over the back of the chair, Elizabeth noticed the snowflakes that clung to his dark locks.
“Is it snowing?” she asked.
“Yes, it began just outside of London,” he answered.
“You did not ride there, did you?” she pressed.
He shook his head. “Of course not. I rode to the county in the company of my friend and then took the coach. But the snow followed me all the way here.”
“I see. And how is she?” Elizabeth asked, her concern evident.
“When I am with her, she is well enough. She still refuses to speak to her brother. He has warned her that if she does not improve, they will travel to visit her aunt in Rosings,” he replied.
Elizabeth frowned. “I worry that if she is in proximity to Mr Collins, Charlotte will not be able to hold him to his promise.”
“That is precisely why we cannot let that happen,” he said. “I must devise some solution.”
Elizabeth smiled at the realisation that Thomas was no longer denying his clandestine visits to Georgiana Darcy. This marked his fifth visit in seven weeks, and she had thought time would soon run out. She was surprised that Mr Darcy had even chosen to stay in London for so long. With the snowfall in the north, she assumed he was reluctant to travel under such conditions. It was mid-February now, and in a few weeks, they would be able to journey north without complication. Yet, she surmised that Darcy did not wish to expose his sister to any risk, which was why he had chosen to keep her secluded, viewing her well-being as paramount.
“And Mr Darcy, how does he fare?” she asked.
“I am surprised you enquire; you have not uttered his name in quite some time,” he observed.
Elizabeth merely shrugged; it was indeed true she had refrained from mentioning Mr Darcy lately, yet thoughts of himlingered. She often reminisced about their conversations in the library at Netherfield, or the afternoon when she injured her ankle, or that evening at the Netherfield ball. Each encounter left her with a sense of genuine fondness, but now, uncertainty clouded her feelings.
“Georgiana informs me that he is quite miserable. She overheard him confiding in Bingley, who is in quite a dudgeon. He drinks too much, eats too little, and seldom ventures out. Darcy seems genuinely concerned for him.”
“Why is that?” Elizabeth queried, intrigued.
“Georgiana thinks he genuinely regrets separating from Jane, yet he is too proud to admit it.”
“I am surprised she holds any affection for her brother,” Elizabeth remarked.
“She loves him dearly. But…” Thomas trailed off, his expression thoughtful.
Elizabeth smiled and placed her hand over his. “But she loves you more?”
“I just—” he paused, “she wishes me to know that her brother is not a bad man, that he harbours many demons. After hearing what she has shared, I cannot entirely fault him for his actions. Yet, I find it difficult to extend any favourable thoughts towards him due to the misery he has wrought upon us all. Not all of it rests upon his shoulders, for he is a product of his circumstances.”
Elizabeth frowned and leaned back in her chair. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean to say, Darcy faced a difficult upbringing.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Elizabeth replied, surprised. “Living at Pemberley, with a London townhouse, and a wealthy grandfather?”
Thomas smiled knowingly. “I dare say wealth does not guarantee happiness. From what I gather, he was happy—but the roots of his grievances seem to stem from jealousy.”
Elizabeth listened quietly, absorbing his words.
