her. So she reminded herself daily, and when a certain melancholy about the situation would overcome her, she learned to closet herself in her room until she could regain her composure.
***
The butler entered Darcy's study. "Mr. Darcy, there is a young person here who says he must speak to you. He will not tell me his business, but he is most insistent that you will want to see him."
"Does this young person have a name?"
"He said to tell you he is Charlie from Cheapside. He is quite disreputable, sir."
Cheapside. Elizabeth. Even the word could still give him a twist of pain, but he had to put that behind him. He dragged his mind back to the present. He knew no one else from Cheapside. "Send him away." As the butler bowed and turned, Darcy remembered the urchin on Gracechurch Street. His name had been Charlie, had it not? "Simms, I have changed my mind. Send him in."
"Very well, sir."
Darcy drummed his fingers on the desk. Finally the boy crept in, hat in hand, wide-eyed as he took in his surroundings and then straightened at the sight of Darcy. He was more skin and bones than ever.
"Well, Charlie from Cheapside, how did you find me?"
"I followed yer 'ome one day from Moorsfield, sir. Thought it might be useful to know someday."
An enterprising sort, indeed. "And what brings you here today?"
"It's about Miss Bennet, sir. There's that gentleman what's courting 'er. He's at 'er house most days."
It could mean nothing to him if Elizabeth favoured another man. She would never be his, in any case. If only he could convince himself it was none of his business. If only the idea did not tie his stomach in knots. "Is he well-to-do?"
The boy cast his eyes around the room. No doubt he had never been in such a fine house. "Not like Mr. Gardiner, but 'is family keeps a servant."
One servant. At least Elizabeth would not have to scrub and clean. That thought was not bearable. Still, she would not be without household duties. She should have been mistress of Pemberley, with dozens of servants at her command. "Does she look on his suit with favour?"
"It's her uncle what wants the match, but she don't avoid his company, if that's what yer mean, sir. But Freddie says she ain't 'appy, and she cries sometimes when she thinks no one is lookin'." Charlie watched him closely.
"Is he respectable?" As if it made a difference.
The boy shrugged. "Respectable enough. He likes his bits o' muslin, though, he does."
Darcy did not allow his expression to change, though he doubted it fooled the boy in the slightest. "And how, pray tell, did you discover that?"
"Followed him a few times, too. I'm good at it."
Darcy did not doubt it. It was fortunate for England that Charlie chose to work on his behalf rather than Napoleon's. "Does she still walk out to Moorsfield in the mornings?"
"No, sir. She don't walk out alone at all now. But I could find out when she goes out wiv the children, if yer want, sir."
Just what he did not need--more temptation. "That will not be necessary." He opened the desk drawer and took out a few coins. Charlie's hand was already out for them. Darcy rang for Simms, who appeared instantly. No doubt he had been waiting outside the door.
"Simms, take this young man to the kitchens and make sure he eats a good meal before he leaves." It was a long walk back to Cheapside.
Darcy tried to return to the newspaper he had been reading, but his heart was not in it. He could think of nothing but the news the boy had brought. He went to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of brandy, but did not touch it. Why did Elizabeth cry? Did she dislike the man? He would not admit the satisfaction the idea gave him. Or did she merely miss her family? Or perhaps it was because she no longer dared to venture on her walks.
No, that was ridiculous. Elizabeth Bennet had never lacked for courage, and it would take more than a few misplaced words from him to cause her to change her habits. And if she disliked her suitor, she would find a
***
The butler entered Darcy's study. "Mr. Darcy, there is a young person here who says he must speak to you. He will not tell me his business, but he is most insistent that you will want to see him."
"Does this young person have a name?"
"He said to tell you he is Charlie from Cheapside. He is quite disreputable, sir."
Cheapside. Elizabeth. Even the word could still give him a twist of pain, but he had to put that behind him. He dragged his mind back to the present. He knew no one else from Cheapside. "Send him away." As the butler bowed and turned, Darcy remembered the urchin on Gracechurch Street. His name had been Charlie, had it not? "Simms, I have changed my mind. Send him in."
"Very well, sir."
Darcy drummed his fingers on the desk. Finally the boy crept in, hat in hand, wide-eyed as he took in his surroundings and then straightened at the sight of Darcy. He was more skin and bones than ever.
"Well, Charlie from Cheapside, how did you find me?"
"I followed yer 'ome one day from Moorsfield, sir. Thought it might be useful to know someday."
An enterprising sort, indeed. "And what brings you here today?"
"It's about Miss Bennet, sir. There's that gentleman what's courting 'er. He's at 'er house most days."
It could mean nothing to him if Elizabeth favoured another man. She would never be his, in any case. If only he could convince himself it was none of his business. If only the idea did not tie his stomach in knots. "Is he well-to-do?"
The boy cast his eyes around the room. No doubt he had never been in such a fine house. "Not like Mr. Gardiner, but 'is family keeps a servant."
One servant. At least Elizabeth would not have to scrub and clean. That thought was not bearable. Still, she would not be without household duties. She should have been mistress of Pemberley, with dozens of servants at her command. "Does she look on his suit with favour?"
"It's her uncle what wants the match, but she don't avoid his company, if that's what yer mean, sir. But Freddie says she ain't 'appy, and she cries sometimes when she thinks no one is lookin'." Charlie watched him closely.
"Is he respectable?" As if it made a difference.
The boy shrugged. "Respectable enough. He likes his bits o' muslin, though, he does."
Darcy did not allow his expression to change, though he doubted it fooled the boy in the slightest. "And how, pray tell, did you discover that?"
"Followed him a few times, too. I'm good at it."
Darcy did not doubt it. It was fortunate for England that Charlie chose to work on his behalf rather than Napoleon's. "Does she still walk out to Moorsfield in the mornings?"
"No, sir. She don't walk out alone at all now. But I could find out when she goes out wiv the children, if yer want, sir."
Just what he did not need--more temptation. "That will not be necessary." He opened the desk drawer and took out a few coins. Charlie's hand was already out for them. Darcy rang for Simms, who appeared instantly. No doubt he had been waiting outside the door.
"Simms, take this young man to the kitchens and make sure he eats a good meal before he leaves." It was a long walk back to Cheapside.
Darcy tried to return to the newspaper he had been reading, but his heart was not in it. He could think of nothing but the news the boy had brought. He went to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of brandy, but did not touch it. Why did Elizabeth cry? Did she dislike the man? He would not admit the satisfaction the idea gave him. Or did she merely miss her family? Or perhaps it was because she no longer dared to venture on her walks.
No, that was ridiculous. Elizabeth Bennet had never lacked for courage, and it would take more than a few misplaced words from him to cause her to change her habits. And if she disliked her suitor, she would find a
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