Chapter Twenty-Seven

Darcy

Pemberley House, Derbyshire

T he following day, Darcy sat at his desk. He’d taken breakfast with Miss Bennet and Maggie who were now exploring the rest of the house, while he did what he’d promised to do—write a letter to Bingley. After this, he’d promised Maggie he’d show her the lake where they might skate once the ice grew thicker.

For now, however, he had to focus on a matter weighing heavily upon him.

Pemberley,

My dear Bingley,

I trust by now that you, Georgiana, and Mrs Annesley have all arrived safely at Grosvenor House. Knowing my sister is in your company brings me profound peace. Your friendship, your loyalty—they have proven themselves over and over again, and I am grateful beyond words for it.

And yet, I fear I have not always been as good a friend in return. Indeed, there is something I must confess, and I can no longer keep silent. I did you a disservice, and I have delayed too long in acknowledging it.

It pains me to admit it, but I was wrong to urge you to end your courtship with Miss Jane Bennet. I allowed myself to be guided by a false sense of duty, a narrow, misguided notion of what I believed would serve your best interests. I let society’s expectations blind me to the true measure of Miss Bennet’s character. Her family’s lack of discretion and Mrs Bennet’s exuberance clouded my judgement, and I failed to see what lay beyond them.

Elizabeth has helped me see how blind I have been. She has shown me that Mrs Bennet, while occasionally brash, is, at her heart, a mother with fierce love for her children, and one who would do anything to secure their happiness. The Bennet family possesses a goodness I overlooked, and I am ashamed to think that I might have deprived you of such a connection by urging you to leave Jane behind.

You may know from Georgiana, that I am currently in the company of Elizabeth Bennet and her young charge, Maggie. In her presence, I have seen the world, and myself, with new eyes. I will be honest, I have begun to feel deeply for her. This newfound attachment has awakened in me a sharp awareness of my own hypocrisy. I realise now how wrong it was to presume to judge her family so harshly, only to harbour such feelings for her myself.

Miss Bennet has, of course, learned of my interference, and her disappointment has been acute. She has, quite rightly, been incensed, and I have feared that my own poor judgement might drive her away from me forever. Through this, I have gained a better understanding of what you must have felt when you left Jane. I have seen how wrong it was to have deprived you of the chance to make that choice for yourself, and to do so because of my own biases. I acted in both pride and misguided protectiveness, and now I know that the only true protection you needed was the freedom to make that decision on your own.

And so, Bingley, I can only beg for your forgiveness and urge you to seek out Miss Jane Bennet for I am certain her feelings for you were of equal measure as your own and such a chance at happiness is not easily come by. I robbed you of it, but I hope and pray that you can rekindle it once more.

I have wronged you, and I hope against all odds that you might someday look upon me with the same friendship you once did. Indeed, I have even dared to dream that you and I might one day become brothers—not just by friendship, but by family. It would be an honour greater than I deserve if Miss Elizabeth Bennet might consider it and of course, if you could see me as such again.

Yours most sincerely,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Darcy carefully folded the letter, sealing it with a practised press of his hand before calling for Hastings.

“Have this sent immediately to Sheffield, if you please, Hastings. I do not wish it sent from Lambton, as I do not want our presence here known,” he said, handing the butler the letter.

“Yes, sir.” Hastings bowed respectfully and departed, leaving Darcy alone with a heart laden with both worry and hope.

As he left his study, Darcy made his way to the hallway, his thoughts lingering on Bingley’s potential reaction. His guilt mixed with a deep sense of relief at finally speaking his truth, no matter the outcome. Descending the staircase, he noticed Mrs Reynolds nearby, straightening a set of candlesticks in the grand entrance hall. She looked up at his approach, her face breaking into a knowing smile.

“Mr Darcy,” she greeted him warmly. “I just wanted to say how lovely it has been to have Miss Bennet with us. She has such a kind and gentle manner, and young Maggie seems positively devoted to her.”

Darcy felt his chest tighten with a mixture of pride and tenderness. “Yes, indeed. Miss Bennet… brings a lightness that is rare,” he replied, somewhat absently, his eyes drifting to the door.

Mrs Reynolds nodded approvingly, a slight sparkle in her eyes. “Pemberley has felt like a brighter place since she arrived, sir.”

Just then, the door to the main hall opened, and Elizabeth stepped inside, Maggie in tow. Elizabeth’s cheeks were flushed from the cool air, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Mr Darcy!” she called, her voice filled with delight. “You must hear this—Maggie’s ability to speak is growing better and better by the moment.”

Darcy’s brows lifted in surprise, and a warm smile spread across his face as Maggie walked beside him, her hand still clasped in Elizabeth’s.

Maggie looked at him with a smile, her eyes twinkling, and pointed directly at him. “Darcy!” she announced.

Elizabeth laughed, her joy lighting up her entire face. “We were looking for pinecones, and she suddenly turned to me and said your name. I could hardly believe my ears.”

Darcy chuckled, his heart swelling at the sound of it. “I am honoured, Maggie,” he said gently, reaching out to pat her on the head. “You have a lovely voice. I am glad to finally hear it more and more. Maybe one day you will delight us with more words, but all in due time, Mag—”

“Darcy and Beth,” she said then, taking them both by surprise.

Elizabeth’s laughter bubbled over again, and in her delight, she instinctively reached for Darcy’s hand, her fingers cold but soft against his while Mrs Reynolds discreetly slipped away into the hall.

Darcy glanced at his hand, seeing hers on his and smiled. The contact felt natural, grounding him as if they had known each other for a lifetime.

Their eyes met, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Elizabeth’s face was aglow with happiness, her eyes bright with a tender amusement, and Darcy found himself unable to look away. He tightened his grip on her hand, feeling the warmth seep through his skin and into his very being, as if binding them together.

“Miss Bennet…” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with emotion he could no longer keep hidden.

But Elizabeth’s smile grew even warmer as she gently squeezed his hand, interrupting his thoughts. “Elizabeth,” she corrected softly, her voice like a gentle melody.

The sound of her name on her lips sent a tremor through him. He repeated it, savouring each syllable, his gaze holding hers with a promise he hadn’t known he needed to make.

“Elizabeth.”

For a moment, the rest of the world faded away. He was aware Maggie had wandered off down the hall, glimpsing her from the corner of his eye but it she felt far away.

Their hands remained entwined, her touch steady and grounding, as if anchoring him to the present. The air between them was charged, filled with a silent understanding. He could feel the desire building within him to lean closer, to erase the space between them and show her how deeply he cared. Her eyes searched his, her own expression mirroring the emotions that surged within him, and for a moment, he was sure she felt it too.

Almost without thinking, he took a step closer, his gaze dropping to her lips, his heart pounding with a certainty he had never before experienced. Just as he was about to close the final inch between them, Maggie’s hurried footsteps tore him from his trance.

“Darcy! Snow!” she called and pointed outside where indeed, snow was once again falling.

He straightened abruptly, releasing her hand with a reluctant sigh. But even as he forced himself to look away, he found his heart clinging to that brief moment they had shared.

With a final glance at Elizabeth, Darcy let a soft smile linger, as if promising her that this was not the end, but merely the beginning of something he could no longer deny.

And Elizabeth, though she composed herself as propriety demanded, met his gaze with an answering warmth, her eyes holding a promise of their own.