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“Finn, my ivory tablet! Perhaps Miss Gardiner could transfer my notes on the townhouses and other observations to the etui?”

Finn retrieved the tablet from Darcy’s dressing room and passed it to Elizabeth. Thus, when Darcy was helped up to exercise, Elizabeth removed herself to the landing where she sat down at the secretaire to transcribe the ingenious little notebook, not much larger than a dance card.

Her first shock came when she found a note in the form of a reminder on the sixth leaf: “Contact Elizabeth Bennet’s uncle on return to London.” Her heart jumped upon recognising her own name. What could he mean by it? Perhaps he had intended to settle some money on her after all? How mortifying! To be paid off to go away! She could not possibly transcribe it. Hesitantly, Lizzy pushed the leaf aside. Omissions occur every day she reassured herself. If she was caught out, she could always say that two of the leaves must have got stuck together... Taking a deep breath she fanned aside the next ivory leaf only to be confronted with three names:

“Lady Sophia Amberley,

Miss Berenice Andrews,

Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Chapter 33: Whooose cameo?

Elizabeth’s shock upon discovering her name a second time in Mr Darcy’s notebook was great. Her vision blurred; the characters written on the ivory seemed to waver and distort. She blinked. But her name was still there. She scanned the following pages but there was no context that allowed her to understand just why he had written her name down. Could it be that he had compromised other ladies? Were all of these women demanding compensation?

Deciding to skip the offending pages that she was sure Mr Darcy had not intended her to see, being of such a personal nature, Elizabeth continued transcribing the remainder of the book, which was filled with rough pencil drawings, often with dimensions, and notes. One of them seemed to be a drawbridge with instructions on how to open it, labelled ‘canal bridge, Voorhaven, Rotterdam’. Meanwhile her mind was turning somersaults. Elizabeth could not resist returning to the offending pages several times to view them again. The second one was particularly intriguing. The surnames were listed alphabetically. Did that have any significance? And her name was smudged, but not the others...

Turning the tablet sideways and tilting it so that the light reflected off it differently, she could see a name written underneath hers that had been erased; the tips of the letters protruded above—C. B. and the last three letters, not so well removed—ley. No! gley.

Goodness! It said Caroline Bingley!

Elizabeth dropped the notebook as if scalded. Fortunately, it landed safely on the blotter, and she was not obliged to dig it out of the wax. What did Caroline Bingley have to do with these two other ladies and herself, and why had Caroline’s name been erased? Surely, she could not be demanding money also?

Flicking back through the ivory leaves to the last one she had transcribed, Elizabeth continued working, but her mind would not leave the conundrum alone. She knew Caroline had ambitions to marry Mr Darcy, or ‘secure’ him as Charlotte would say. Could this be a list of eligible ladies? The thought brought butterflies to her stomach.

Making a list seemed just the sort of methodical thing Mr Darcy would do... But stay... Elizabeth had never detected the least partiality for Caroline Bingley in him. At Netherfield, he had always teased and joked with Caroline to depress her pretensions. What if he had favoured Caroline once but had cooled on her because of her managing ways? As for herself, Elizabeth had thought Mr Darcy was attracted to her that night at the Netherfield ball, but his rapid departure afterwards in response to her mother’s letter had seemed to confirm that he had just been flirting. Could there have been another unrelated reason for his departure from Netherfield—like his trip to the Continent? Perhaps he had intended to seek her out when he returned? But no, he would not have expelled her uncle from his townhouse if that were the case.

Elizabeth sighed. Without any information about the other two ladies, her speculations were pure fantasy. If her mother’s interference had snuffed any interest on his part, this list of names might have been compiled for a totally different reason. Maybe, it was a list of women who had tried to compromise Mr Darcy? Perhaps he was planning some sort of revenge?

Returning to the teasing page, Elizabeth examined the writing again. It seemed that Caroline’s name was different, slightly larger and with bigger loops. Likely it was of no consequence—she knew her own handwriting changed depending on her mood. She flicked back through the pages, comparing them. His writing, in contrast, seemed remarkably regular... Having examined every possible aspect of the puzzle and come up with naught, Elizabeth chided herself for wasting time and resolved to think of it no more.

After lunch, which Elizabeth took with Miss Darcy in the saloon, Farley asked Elizabeth if she had managed to locate Mr Gardiner’s errant letter. She was forced to hand over her forgery. She was only glad she was spared the indignity of having to read it aloud. When she walked back into Mr Darcy’s bedchamber after lunch, she noticed the letter lying on his nightstand, unsealed. It seemed likely he had asked Finn to read it to him because of its sensitive nature.

Elizabeth passed the rest of the day alternately reading and transcribing while Mr Darcy exercised. She read a chapter of the book on mathematical series after lunch, considerably less deftly than Mr Calhoun. Elizabeth had to consult Mr Darcy on the pronunciation of several symbols, which she drew on one of the wax tablet diptychs so that he might feel them. Although they made it to the end together tolerably well, it was nonetheless an effort, and it was a relief when Elizabeth was finally able to return to reading Sense and Sensibility. Mr Darcy settled down in bed to listen. Behind the rose-tinted glasses, Elizabeth could see he had closed his eyes. Only his shallow breathing suggested he was still awake.

Darcy was bothered by Mr Gardiner’s letter. Despite the fact that Mr Gardiner had expressed no ill will towards him regarding his summary ejection from the townhouse and released him from any obligation regarding his niece, Darcy felt disinclined to let the matter rest. He wondered how he was viewed in Hertfordshire: like Willoughby?—a fellow who had played with a lady’s affections and then promptly disappeared? He had cautioned Bingley a number of times about his partial behaviour towards Jane Bennet and others. With the benefit of hindsight, he could not acquit himself of worse behaviour.

To his own mind, the incident of the cameo was his greatest sin. Her uncle had not even mentioned that, possibly did not even know about it. Darcy had returned to her bedchamber alone, knowing she was likely also alone. He could have asked Finn to return the cameo via a servant. But he had wanted to be with her; had wanted to continue the connection with her that he had felt as they danced; as they stood together on the balcony. Worse still, he had touched her; had held her foot in his hand as he removed her slipper. He had rationalised it as an act of chivalry then but admitted now that he had craved to feel her warmth again after their previous contact, after waltzing with her and carrying her up the stairs. If anyone had walked in on them then, it would have been disastrous to Elizabeth’s reputation. Caroline almost had, although he could have trusted her to remain silent, if only for her own self-serving reasons.

Darcy did not know why the memory of Elizabeth was working so powerfully on him now, but certainly his feelings for her seemed to have grown rather than diminished with time. He had been thinking of returning to Longbourn when her mother’s letter arrived that morning at Netherfield. Oh, why had he not just done that? A blissful alternate universe he had not explored! The answer echoed clearly in his mind like a reply—because he had wanted to be in control. It was a constant criticism of both his friends and his detractors. If he had a fault, it was in that tendency. Of course, he chided his friends when they laughingly rebuked him—someone needed to be decisive, push things forward. But he knew they were right. A virtue, taken to excess, could be a vice. He always liked to have the ordering of things and mostly had from early childhood. He had disliked it excessively when the few people he had to defer to, his father and his uncle, had pulled rank on him. Mrs Bennet had made a move before he did, which was not allowed. He had promptly abandoned the game in a fit of pique—as stupid and self-defeating as Ajax.

Had not his determination to have his way with the townhouses sent him on that ill-fated visit to the Continent when he should have stayed at home, taking care of his own business, not his uncle’s? But it did not stop there, did it? Had not his determination to ‘control’ his feelings for Elizabeth Bennet by his choice at the brothel been his undoing? In his attempt to be in control he had lost control—been weak in giving in to Bingley and then weaker in giving in to his base cravings. Fate had been clever in handing him his comeuppance. He had been the architect of his own debasement.

Enough feeling sorry for himself! He could give in and live in a pathetic state of self-pity, or he could wrest what happiness he could from the wreckage of his life, as Miss Gardiner had shown him it was possible to do. But would Elizabeth still have him in his degraded state? Caroline Bingley had run in the opposite direction. Would Miss Elizabeth’s mercenary feelings trump her repugnance? He thought that his ten thousand a year would be enough to sway her mother, but what of her? She had wanted him when he was a handsome—well, reasonably handsome—rich gentleman; but would she still want him when he was a blind, but rich cripple? He knew he still wanted her. There was only one way to find out and that was to debase himself further by making an offer.

Darcy was determined not to do so without making his best play. First, he would find out the situation in Hertfordshire, whether there was any truth in Mrs Bennet’s allegations of circulating rumours. He would confess the incident of the cameo to her uncle. He would not force Miss Elizabeth to marriage; but if the rumours existed, even if they had died down, he might be able to convince her it was in her best interests to accept his hand. True, she would not be marrying a whole man, but as mistress of Pemberley she would have considerable wealth and influence. It would not be an objectionable life for her; while he would have a pleasant, intelligent and beautiful companion, which was more than he felt he currently deserved.

Finally, Darcy pretended to fall asleep. When Finn heard Miss Gardiner stop at the end of the chapter, he came over to remove Darcy’s glasses. Darcy heard Miss Gardiner put the book down softly on the nightstand and quietly tiptoe away—the swish of her skirts and the soft patter of her slippers followed by the quiet thump of Clara’s boots. When a carriage arrived shortly after and he heard Georgie’s voice call to Miss Gardiner as his sister came through the front door, Darcy was sure she had removed downstairs and dropped all pretence. He had not heard Finn retreat and suspected he had replaced Miss Gardiner by his bedside.

“Finn, are you there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Finn, I am still worried about this situation in Hertfordshire. Despite Mr Gardiner’s assurances that he is sanguine, I cannot like it if I have raised Miss Elizabeth’s expectations and left her exposed to salacious gossip.”

There was a pause while Darcy thought about his next words.

“No, sir,” said Finn, filling the gap.