Thinking of imparting his momentous news to Richard led Darcy to imagining the joy of telling of his great fortune to all those who were dear to him. The sudden vision of Georgiana’s ecstatic face and Mrs. Reynolds’ relieved pleasure supplanted any residual pique over Lady Catherine. Besides, it was her interference, as horrid and misplaced as it was, that prompted him to return to Hertfordshire immediately rather than waiting until closer to Bingley’s wedding.
He had determined to speak with Elizabeth as plainly as possible, as soon as possible. Nothing had been certain, not by a long chalk, but the one irrefutable fact he clung to was that Elizabeth Bennet, above all, was frank and unafraid to speak bluntly. If she had decided absolutely and irrevocably against him, she would have promised Lady Catherine instantly, probably adding gleefully to the list of reasons why she considered Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy the “last man in the world” she would ever marry!
Yes, hope had entered his heart.
Nevertheless, Darcy left the house on this fine morning without the remotest inclination that he would soon be engaged to Elizabeth Bennet. Even if an angelic whisper had hinted it was a possibility, never would he have presumed she loved him in return.
Elizabeth loves me.
Darcy closed his eyes and let the revelation sink deeper into his bones. The irrepressible joy bubbled under the surface of his skin, with every muscle and nerve alive as never before. Heated blood soared through his veins, and his mind raced with glimpses of their future.
Then, he sensed an influx of something profound steadying the euphoria. The reality of her love sobered him. He did not yet comprehend how Elizabeth had fallen in love with him, or when or even why, but that she had was an honor and precious gift he intended to treasure and respect for all eternity. After everything that had passed between them, Darcy fully appreciated how priceless her returned love was. He doubted there was enough time allotted him on this earth to ever express the entirety of his thankfulness and the breadth of his adoration. He refused to waste a single second.
The latter thought instilled a boost of energy. Darcy’s eyes popped open at the same moment he launched out of his chair. A swift glance at the clock revealed only two hours had passed since leaving her on the doorstep at Longbourn. It felt like a week or more.
“I miss her.” He spoke aloud, the words and sentiment a bit startling.
For close to a year, he had longed for Elizabeth Bennet whenever away from her. Nothing new about that. Yet after this morning, the sensation had altered. No longer was it a mystery whether he would see her again. No longer was it a one-sided desire that, if rewarded, would entail gazing upon her face from afar and nothing more. Suddenly he realized that while the pain of separation from her would grow as their relationship evolved into deeper intimacy, the joy of reuniting in mutual pleasure would be phenomenal.
He broke into a wide grin and strode briskly toward the door to his dressing room.
* * *
Darcy exited his chambers no less buoyant or giddy than he had been before relaxing in a tub of warmed water and submitting to Samuel’s careful attendance to his attire and grooming. A smile danced on his lips, even as they formed into a pucker for the whistle yearning to be released. Unfortunately, both the smile and whistle died at the sight of Caroline Bingley loitering not four feet away from his door.
“Greetings, Caroline.” He inclined his head. “I thought you were in London.”
“Indeed not! How could I remain there when desperately needed here? I raced to Netherfield as soon as my brother’s letter arrived at our townhouse. I presumed you were with him and have been increasingly dismayed at your absence. I can only deduce you either returned to Town before his horrid blunder or have been devising a plan, but whatever the case, my relief at the news of your presence is immense. What are we to do, Mr. Darcy?”
“Forgive me, Caroline. Clearly you are distraught; however, I am ignorant as to what ‘horrid blunder’ you are referring to.”
“Why, surely you know of his betrothal to Jane Bennet! Is that not why you are here?”
“Not primarily, no.”
Darcy stepped past Caroline Bingley and continued down the corridor. After a stunned pause, she hastened to catch up to his long-legged gait. He was unsure whether to laugh or grimace at the dramatics that would ensue when she discovered Bingley was not the only gentleman at Netherfield betrothed to a Bennet.
“Mr. Darcy, I do not understand! You said you know he asked Miss Bennet to marry him—”
“I do.”
“Well, how is this not the purpose of your visit? Are you not here to talk sense into him once again?”
“No, I am not. Bingley is a grown man, capable of making his own decisions.”
“That was certainly not your opinion last year!”
“No, to my great shame, it was not. Now I am regretful of that judgment call.”
“Surely you do not mean that!”
Her frantic clutch on Darcy’s arm halted him, and with a sigh, he turned. Her face was creased with concern, and for a second, he experienced a stab of pity. With her next sentences, however, the pity was replaced by irritation and then downright indignant anger.
“By all that is sacred, we must not sit by and allow my daft brother to align himself with that family! What could he be thinking? You have tremendous influence over Charles, Mr. Darcy, a fact I am thankful for, so he will listen to reason from you more so than me. I have tried to point out the severe deficiencies in Miss Bennet, to outline the consequences to his social standing if he marries her, yet he stubbornly refuses to listen. He walks around in a cloud of ridiculous emotion that I am sure will annoy and disgust you as much as it does me.”
“Somehow I doubt I will be as annoyed or disgusted as you imagine.”
Darcy managed to speak calmly and keep his facial expressions bland. Caroline stared at his impassive face in amazement, stumbling over her words as she continued, “Well…I applaud your forbearance, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps you are correct not to approach with a strong attack. We cannot waste time indiscriminately, or the news will spread, making his breaking the engagement a scandal in itself. However, you are correct that subtlety may be the best tactic in dealing with Charles in this matter.”
“You misunderstand me, Miss Bingley,” he countered, reverting to formality. “I am not suggesting any kind of attack in regards to Bingley’s betrothal to Miss Bennet, subtle or strong. It is, to be frank, none of my business. Even if it were, I would not interfere. As it happens, I am happy for him. You should be as well. Furthermore, if you recall, I did say that was not my primary reason for returning to Netherfield.”
And before he erupted in laughter at Caroline’s bulging eyes and gaping mouth, Darcy pivoted and rapidly completed his jaunt to the parlor. Bingley was already there, sipping a glass of wine and staring bemusedly out at the front drive. His expression was rather ridiculous, Darcy had to admit, and if not for viewing a startlingly similar look upon his own visage the entire time Samuel was shaving him and trimming his hair, he probably would have felt as Caroline presumed.
Instead, he steeled his muscles and clamped down on any telltale signs of his joy. Prior to encountering Caroline unexpectedly, Darcy had intended to announce his betrothal to his friend. Dealing with Charles’s delighted surprise was no longer desirable, however, since it would be accompanied by goodness only knows what kind of reaction from Caroline Bingley.
“Bingley, is there more of that wine handy?”
“Darcy! There you are! I was beginning to worry that you were ill or on the run from the law, arriving late at night, so I was informed this morning, and then hiding in your room all day. Quite out of your normal routine, my friend, and that always worries me.”
Darcy laughed along with Bingley. He took the glass of wine from the younger man’s hand and lifted it in a toast. “I doubt I shall ever be as unpredictable as some, but here’s too causing the occasional ripple of surprise.”
Bingley clinked th
e edge of Darcy’s glass with his, brows rising and eyes asking a question. After a large swallow, Darcy answered partially.
“I received news prompting my return, and I was not hiding in my room all day. I actually left early this morning to attend to some unfinished business. The weather was especially fine for a long walk.”
“Walk? Since when do you prefer walking over riding your horse?”
“I cannot honestly say I prefer walking over riding my horse. Today it simple felt like the right choice, that’s all.”
“You are being irritatingly cryptic, Darcy. Not that you often aren’t, of course, so I shall let it go. Whatever mysteries you have rattling around in that complicated head of yours, I am pleased to have you here. For many reasons, naturally, but especially since it means you can keep Caroline company for dinner.”
He nodded toward his sister, Caroline having just then entered the parlor. She had taken time to collect herself, that much was obvious to Darcy. The cool, aloof gaze cast his direction was no different that it always was. At least for the moment, since she would again be spun in confusion by Darcy’s odd shift in attitude.
“Alas,” he began, eyes on Bingley and not Caroline, “I regret that I must disappoint. I intend to accompany you to Longbourn for dinner.”
“Longbourn?” The amazed echo came from both Bingleys, Caroline a tad shriller than Charles. Darcy said nothing.
“Are you sure, Darcy? That is, the Bennets will welcome your unexpected addition with polite indulgence, of course.” Darcy lifted one brow at that but continued to silently sip his wine while Bingley stuttered on. “It is just that…Well…I know the Bennets are not necessarily your favorite people in the world or…exactly the society you usually interact with…and the food, while excellent in its own way, is not on par with what Mrs. Langton serves at Pemberley.”
“The Bennets are uncouth and lacking in the slightest hint of social graces, and Longbourn is barely a step above a hovel. Is that not what you mean, Charles?”
“Not precisely, Caroline,” he countered testily. “Personally, I take no issue with the Bennets or Longbourn—”
“Only because you are blindly besotted by a pretty face! Otherwise, you would see the truth of it. Why warn Mr. Darcy if the Bennets are not an embarrassment to be avoided at all costs?”
“Why indeed?” Darcy’s even tone cut through. Neither Bingley blurted the sharp words tickling their lips and instead turned their eyes toward Darcy, who had not paused. “No need to warn me of anything. I am well aware of what awaits me at Longbourn, and can assure you both that I am eager, most eager to visit, even if plain fare and humble surroundings are less than what I am used to. In fact, I have decided it is high time I cease looking at the world from the lofty heights that have thus far only served to stifle me and enforce an unhealthy sense of superiority.”
He was staring straight at Caroline as he said the latter, and the thrill of perverse satisfaction at her astoundment was immense. Moments later, the crunch of wheels and horses’ hooves on gravel drove all thoughts of Caroline’s reactions from his mind.
Heart pounding at the sudden vision of Elizabeth that crystallized in his mind, he briskly set the wineglass onto the table and walked toward the door without another word.
Chapter Three
Starlit Evening
The long afternoon spent with Jane in candid conversation did wonders for calming Lizzy’s overwrought emotions. Recounting her convoluted relationship with Mr. Darcy chronologically, in forthright language, and with Jane’s insightful queries helped her understand the evolution of her feelings. At least to some degree. In truth, Lizzy did not care to analyze the hows or whens of her love for Mr. Darcy. That she had fallen in love with him, and that he still loved her, was all that mattered.
Leaving the sanctuary of their bedchamber was easier after hours laughing over romantic follies and dreaming of their futures. Lizzy discovered just how beneficial when she entered the drawing room.
“Lizzy! What an ungrateful child you are! Languishing in your room with no thought to my poor nerves! I have so many questions, and now there is scant time with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy sure to arrive any moment! Mr. Bennet insisted I leave you be, and as difficult as it was, I did not defy his orders, a small bit of advice for a proper marriage I pass on to you two, for whatever good it will do when you especially, Lizzy, take pleasure in vexing me at every turn. I never thought I would say this, Mr. Darcy being a man I confess has not ranked high in my esteem, but I do pity him in dealing with your—”
Smiling all through her mother’s reproach, Lizzy crossed the room and engulfed her in a firm embrace. That, along with a tight squeeze, a murmured “I love you, Mama,” and kiss to her cheek, doused the flames of irritation. Mrs. Bennet relaxed instantly, and her tone shifted to one of teary concern.
“Oh! My dear girl! Are you sure you have chosen wisely?”
“Indeed, I am absolutely sure, Mama.” Lizzy gave another squeeze, then laughed as she pulled away. “And here I thought you would be singing raptures that I have finally accepted a marriage proposal rather than rejecting them willy-nilly! No longer will you despair of me becoming an old maid with nothing left to claim as my own but a sharp tongue.”
“Now, Lizzy, you know I have only wanted for your happiness and security. I daresay Mr. Darcy can provide the latter, but what of the first? Mr. Darcy is, well, somewhat pompous and disagreeable. If asked even this morning, I would have asserted you disliked him!”
“I know. Your confusion is justified. I have not meant to be secretive. It simply took me time to understand my feelings for Mr. Darcy.”
“Do you care for him?”
“I love him. And he loves me.”
“Well! That does change things! How that came to be is more than I can take account of at the present, but he is quite rich, as well as handsome, educated, and well-spoken when he does speak, and not a bad dancer at all, so even with his flaws, he has much to recommend as a husband. In time, I suppose I shall solve the mystery of it and be appeased that your personalities will balance and find their way to coexist. I am not, I admit, adept at understanding people, nor do I invest the time to do so in all cases, so I am glad of the weeks ahead to grow familiar with the man—”
“As am I.”
All eyes turned to Mr. Bennet, where he stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the jamb. His expression was uncharacteristically somber, and his tone grim.
“Papa?”
“I have given my permission, Lizzy, but with reservations. In this area I am, surprising as it may be, in agreement with your mother. Mr. Darcy does indeed have much to recommend, and I am inclined to trust your assertions in regards to the other matters we discussed. Nevertheless, you are young, and while not remotely as puerile as Lydia, emotions can cloud one’s judgment.” He held up his hand when Lizzy opened her mouth to rebut. “I am not rescinding my permission, Lizzy, nor shall I say a word to Mr. Darcy. I am merely expressing a father’s concerns. Pray, indulge my hesitation and wish to grow better acquainted with Mr. Darcy before I begin to sing any raptures.”
Lizzy nodded. Truthfully, she could not fault her father’s reservations despite her instinct to argue the point. Even Jane, who possessed the maddening habit of seeing only the good in everyone, and who on numerous occasions had defended Mr. Darcy when Lizzy ranted against him, was shocked and perplexed by the match. Frank conversation had gone a long way toward convincing Jane that Lizzy loved Mr. Darcy based on sound principles, as well as emotions. Yet she also knew that Jane would feel better as time passed and she witnessed their interactions.
Deciding that the whole situation was, in a strange way, rather humorous and a challenge, Lizzy laughed gaily. “As you wish, Papa. But when you are ready to sing your raptures, I get to pick the song.”
“Knowing you, it will be an especially long one with complex notes and high octaves.”
Further discussion was arrested by the entrance of Mr. Hill, who anno
unced the arrival of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Seconds after that the two gentlemen entered the room, and instantly upon laying eyes on her betrothed, Lizzy forgot the cautions from concerned family members.
He entered a step behind Bingley, paused when just over the threshold, and bowed politely before sweeping his gaze across the room until finding Lizzy. Warmth infused his blue eyes, his stoic features relaxed minimally, and a small smile lifted the corners of his firmly set mouth.
Lizzy’s heart performed a strange fluttering dance before settling into a rapid pace. Then, in the subsequent minute, her heartbeat slowed until she feared it would cease pumping entirely.
After that fleeting glance, Mr. Darcy had smoothly looked away, his face once again the mask of cool indifference she was far too familiar with. Mr. Bingley was greeting her parents with his typical boyish hesitancy between frequent loving gazes toward Jane. Conversely, Mr. Darcy appeared cut from stone as he stared fixedly toward the far wall and remained silent.
Lizzy was baffled. Had she imagined his affectionate regard? Fear tightened her lungs, and uncertainty twisted a knot in her belly. Could he have changed his mind? Had he rethought her brazen actions while in the garden, seeing them now as an indication of her unworthiness? Was he here to undo the arrangements settled upon scant hours ago? Fighting the panic, Lizzy redirected her scrutiny from his blank expression to the rest of his body. As always he was impeccably dressed and groomed. Even in her alarm, Lizzy noticing what a handsome figure he presented. However, the finely cut garments did not hide the tense stillness of his posture. How was she ever to decipher the body language of a man so skilled in rigid control?