The next morning Elizabeth neared the overlook, giddy with the excitement of a girl falling in love. She had the anticipation of an unopened letter from Jane and plans to tell her sister all about her change of heart.
After spending the previous afternoon reconsidering her medical aspirations, she wasn’t sure she still wanted to be a doctor. Experiencing the miracle of birth had turned her thoughts to midwifery. But she was sure of one thing—she wanted to be a wife and mother. Darcy had helped her realise that indeed, just because her father had let her down, not every man would.
Darcy.... She was falling in love with Fitzwilliam Darcy!
She settled under the oak tree and drew out Jane’s letter. As she read, her enthusiasm ebbed away like water funnelling down a drain.
Dear Lizzy,
I have much news today, and I wish I were there to tell you in person, but I feel I cannot keep it from you any longer. I went to see Mama, and she is far worse. She refuses to eat much of the time and is often given to fits of rage. She no longer recognises who I am. We can only be comforted in the knowledge that she has the finest care money can buy. But I must tell you we cannot take credit for it. I learnt today that the cost of her care is more than twice the sum we are paying. Captain Darcy has paid for the rest.
Elizabeth glanced up. Captain Darcy? Surely not! They had been thrilled when Charlotte suggested Inglewood asylum for their mother. They understood the cost to be within their means and the facilities more than adequate. Having worked hard, she and Jane felt proud that they were providing the best for their mother. Were their efforts nothing more than a pittance?
She swallowed hard and returned to the letter.
There is more. Often when visiting Mama, she would ask me when you were to marry Captain Darcy. She insisted that he promised Papa he would look after you. I thought it was part of her delusion and gave it little attention, but now I know it must be true. Lizzy, he’s looked after Mama to take care of you.
Elizabeth’s hand dropped into her lap, the letter shaking in her hand. Suddenly everything made sense—his proposal, her appointment to France as a VAD, his coincidental rescues—even the letter in his office. It was from Inglewood. In fulfilling a promise to her father, he’d been dutifully looking after her all along. No wonder his proposal had been so fraught with insults! He may have had some warm feelings towards her, but her family was embarrassing, and he’d only proposed out of obligation.
Tears filled her eyes. He was a good and honourable man—the best. After months of despising him, she now cared deeply for him and desperately wanted to reveal her change of heart. But it was too late. He’d made it clear to her on the train that he no longer harboured affection for her. Revealing her true feelings now would only make him feel obliged to marry her out of duty and a debt to her father. And she wouldn’t do that to him. She wouldn’t become another responsibility for him to bear.
Darcy sat at his office desk in the summer twilight, then dropped his pencil and massaged his brow. It was no use trying to concentrate. What was troubling Elizabeth? During the entirety of his evening visit with Dubois, Elizabeth sat quietly disengaged. With tense posture, her brow remained furrowed as if she were in pain.
Darcy sat back. Since the birth of the French woman’s child two days ago, Elizabeth had been subdued. He’d been so busy at the boys’ school, he hadn’t had a private moment to enquire after her. Though the frail Dubois seemed oblivious to her distress, Elizabeth appeared on the verge of tears.
He picked up the pencil and tapped it impatiently on the desk. Was there bad news from her family? Something else?
Darcy shook his head in an effort to refocus his mind. Richard was expected to arrive within the hour, and he needed to complete the report in front of him before then.
A knock propelled him from his chair. Perhaps it was Elizabeth. He opened the door.
“I’ve brought your tea, sir.” Mrs. Simpson smiled, holding out the tray.
His heart thudded back to its proper position as he stepped aside. “Thank you.”
She placed the tray on the corner of his desk and lowered her voice, “You heard about Miss Bennet’s mother, I assume. Such a shame.”
Darcy flicked his eyes to the matron. “No, I’ve not heard. What happened?”
“Her mother passed away suddenly yesterday. The telegram came a few hours ago. The funeral is the day after tomorrow, but the blocked harbour will prevent her attendance.”
“Please, give her my condolences.”
As the door clicked behind the housekeeper, Darcy released a breath and closed his eyes in sympathy.
The matron’s voice wafted from the other room, “...get some fresh air, dear. I’ll sit with him for a bit.”
For the next quarter of an hour, Darcy focused on the report before him, but his mind repeatedly drifted to Elizabeth. Why hadn’t she mentioned the passing away of her mother?
Without a second thought, he slid back his chair, then reached for his hat and strode out the door. He had to find her. The hollow void he’d felt in the hours following his father’s death wrenched his stomach. She didn’t need to be alone.
He spotted her on a bench at the edge of the garden maze, fingering her garnet cross and staring over the meadow. He gently approached in her periphery.
A moment later she spoke without turning. “Mrs. Simpson told you?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry.” He massaged his cap in the silence that lingered between them. Would she further welcome his presence?
Elizabeth’s eyes remained fixed in the distance when she spoke again. “Mama lacked discretion and wisdom, but she was a good person.”
“Yes, she was.”
“She only wanted what was best for us.”
“Mmm.” He seated himself and joined her gaze in the distance.
“But somehow now I feel dry. Numb. As if she meant nothing.”
Darcy set his hat between them. “It’s likely you’ve been grieving for the past year. I wouldn’t admit this to just anyone, but when my father died, I felt an enormous sense of relief. Then I struggled with guilt. But after being ill for so many months, his death brought release—for both of us.”
He waited as she pondered his words.
She sighed and lowered her chin. “Thank you. Perhaps I’m not so callous after all.”
“No.”
Silence filled several moments before he turned to her. “Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No. Now that Jane has Charles, they will take care of everything.” She puffed a nervous giggle. “They have no need of me—nor will anyone else when the monsieur passes away.”
“Elizabeth.” He placed a hand on her arm, and her eyes met his with a hopeful expression. “Many will need you. You will be free to pursue your medical studies. Will you let me help? I could write some letters to—”
“No. No.” She shook her head, lowering her gaze to her lap. “You’re too kind. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Eliz—”
“No. Thank you.”
His spark of hope for them extinguished like a candle snuffed out. There was nothing more he could do. She wanted nothing to do with him. There was just too much bitter history between them.
“I will leave you then.” Her gaze remained fixed on her lap as he rose. Was that a tear in the corner of her eye? His chest tightened.
Darcy approached the chateau, swimming in a tangle of emotions. A tsking sound coming from the veranda broke his abstraction. He looked up and found Richard leaning against the balustrade, shaking his head. Darcy groaned and lumbered up the steps; Richard followed.
Once in the annexe, Darcy tossed his hat on the desk and fell into the chair. “Don’t say a word, Richard.” He raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “Where are the properties you wanted me to appraise as clearing stations?”
“About twenty miles west of here. Would that take your mind off of...things?”
Darcy grunted a reply.
“Who would have believed it? Fitzwilliam Darcy besotted by a country girl. —Ha!”
The next morning Darcy looked up from his desk at the boys’ school as Richard’s uneven strides brought him into the office.
“I just rang off with headquarters.” His cousin dropped into the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “They’ve got four potential clearing station locations that need scouting. With Haig deploying the Canucks to relieve the Anzacs in mid-October, there’s to be some shuffling among the CCSs of our allies in the area. Tommy’s number 6 hospital is moving to Anzac’s 13, and Canucks are taking over Tommy’s number 6. All the transitions will require facilitating.”
Darcy sat back. “The Ritz is safe from the shuffle?”
“Apparently so.” Richard thumped a cigarette from its package.
“What sort of timetable are we looking at?”
“We can have you gone in four days.” He lit the Gold Flake and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Ample time to tie up loose ends and transition Robert into the driver’s seat. I expect you’ll be gone some three weeks. By then, chances are Dubois will have passed away, Miss Bennet will be gone, and you’ll be back here by the time casualties begin rolling in with the October offensive.”
“What about General Pommier?”
“He agrees the investigation here is at a standstill. Your absence may be just the incentive the operatives need to make a move. Robert can look after things while you’re gone. After we bring him up to speed, I’ll have a word with Weekes.”
Four days later Darcy swung his leg off the motorcycle and strode towards the chateau. In an hour he would be gone. He’d spent the morning at the boys’ school tying up loose ends, but his thoughts were distracted by Elizabeth and what he would say upon their parting—for the last time.
His heart ached for her. Mrs. Simpson would soon be leaving, Dubois was not expected to live, and Elizabeth’s future seemed uncertain. He’d done all he could to keep his promise to Mr. Bennet, but a man could only do so much. If she refused his help, he couldn’t force himself on her.
“Captain!” The housekeeper rose from her chair beside Dubois’ bedside as he entered the library. “I’m glad we haven’t missed your departure. I was afraid you’d already gone. I’m only sorry Miss Bennet has missed you. She’s gone into town with the other nurses on her day off.”
“I’m sorry as well.” Darcy knelt to pet Lili to cover his deep disappointment. “I’ve only stopped in to pack my kitbag and leave some papers with Colonel Weekes.”
“Let me get you some refreshments before you go.”
Porcelain tinkled behind him as he unlocked his office. Once inside he braced a hand on the dresser and released his breath with a gush. Elizabeth’s day off.... He winced. He wouldn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.
“Here you are, captain.”
He turned towards the matron as she set a plate and a cup on his desk.
“Sir, you know I’ll be leaving soon to be with my daughter.” She lowered her voice and darted sombre eyes towards the monsieur. “With the state of things, chances are I won’t see you again. But I want you to know what a pleasure it has been serving you, and I hope you find the happiness you deserve.”
Darcy caught her implication as her eyes lingered on him. After exchanging awkward smiles, she turned to the door.
He braced his palm on the window frame and stared out. He wished for a future with Elizabeth as well. But what other chance would he have to see her?
He released a heavy breath and lowered his hand. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t undo the past. Her good opinion was lost upon their initial meeting. They had shared many enjoyable moments and repaired much of the damage since then, but it simply hadn’t been enough.