Chapter Thirty-Six

Elizabeth

15 th January 1812

E lizabeth was in the parlour reading when Mr Darcy entered, the folded letter still in his hand. Elizabeth looked up with an expression of gentle warmth that faded quickly as she noticed his stern countenance.

“A letter from Maggie’s aunt,” he said quietly, coming to sit beside her.

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed as she glanced at the letter. “She knows Maggie is here, then?”

“She does,” he replied, his voice laced with a note of frustration. “But she has informed me she will not be coming to collect her immediately. She has other obligations and will only come after a visit to Ireland.”

Elizabeth’s eyes darkened as she processed the news. “Ireland? With her niece newly found and so near, one would think she could forego such obligations for a time.”

“One would,” Mr Darcy agreed, his tone reflective, “but it seems her plans are set. Lady Buchanan evidently feels that her prior engagements take precedence. She does, however, assure me that she will arrive once those matters are concluded. And Maggie’s grandmother well, she is expected to return from the continent, according to Lady Buchanan, though that may take some weeks.”

Elizabeth’s lips pressed into a tight line and she placed her book on the table. “I cannot help but find it troubling that her aunt does not seem in any great haste to see her,” she murmured, her voice low.

Mr Darcy’s gaze softened, and he nodded. “I share your concerns, Elizabeth. It is… difficult to fathom. This child has been missing from their lives, and now that she’s been found, they remain distant, constrained by engagements and the whims of travel. The grandmother’s delay I can understand, but the aunt’s is incomprehensible.”

Elizabeth let out a sigh, “Poor child,” she whispered. “Her aunt’s delayed arrival is yet another abandonment, however temporary. She’s endured so many already.”

Mr Darcy reached over, his hand closing gently over Elizabeth’s. “You’ve been more of a mother to her than anyone could ask for,” he said softly, his eyes meeting hers with gratitude. “And though Maggie may not understand all that has transpired, she knows she is safe with you.”

Elizabeth’s expression softened, but a shadow of sorrow remained. “I only wish she had a family willing to fight for her,” she whispered. “It pains me to think of her being taken away from Pemberley to a family that seems so distant.”

Mr Darcy’s hand tightened over hers, and they sat in a moment of shared understanding. Their time with Maggie had been one of unexpected joys and growing bonds, and the thought of losing her to those who seemed indifferent weighed heavily on them both.

“Perhaps,” he said at last, “we can find a way to prepare her gently. To give her a sense of security here that will last, even when her relatives arrive.”

Elizabeth nodded, grateful for his resolve. They would continue to be Maggie’s family, for however long they were allowed. As the fire crackled softly in the parlour, Elizabeth voiced a thought that had been pressing on her heart for some time.

“I wonder, Mr Darcy,” she began carefully, her gaze lowered, “if perhaps it might be possible to take Maggie with me back to Longbourn—to see my mother, at least once more.” She hesitated, looking up at him. “Mama would adore seeing her again. Maggie was quite dear to her.”

Mr Darcy’s face grew serious as he considered her request, and he shook his head slowly. “I would grant you anything within my power, Elizabeth,” he said quietly, “but I fear this cannot be. The threat of the bandits has not passed. They may still be looking for her. I cannot risk Maggie’s safety… and the possibility that, if they found her, they might ransom her. Now that we know she is of noble birth, it is clear what those bandits’ intentions were.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened as his words settled over her, understanding the gravity of the situation anew. The hope of showing Maggie a life filled with love, as she herself had known, fell into shadow beneath the chilling reality of the child’s uncertain safety. She nodded, managing a small, understanding smile. “Of course. I hadn’t thought of that. My concern was only that she be among those who love her. But you are correct, her safety must come first.”

Mr Darcy’s expression softened as he took in her disappointment. “Perhaps… Mrs Bennet might visit Pemberley instead,” he offered gently. “I imagine she would be more than willing to make the journey.”

Elizabeth’s face brightened, touched by his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Mr Darcy. That is very generous of you. I believe Mama would be thrilled to accept such an invitation.”

Mr Darcy gave a slight smile. “In truth, I would like to see more of your family as well.”

Elizabeth let out a soft laugh, raising her brow. “Now, that is a change indeed! Have you so soon forgotten your former opinions on my family, sir?”

Mr Darcy’s smile deepened, and he shook his head, a trace of humour in his eyes. “Ah, yes, my opinions. Quite unsparing, if I recall. But,” he added, his voice softer, “I have come to see that there is merit in a family that values more than the rigid standards of decorum. Even if only in small doses,” he teased.

Elizabeth chuckled, surprised by the admission and pleased by the warmth in his tone. She studied his face, the seriousness softened by a quiet affection she had seen more often of late. They shared a moment in silence, an unspoken understanding passing between them, neither daring to look away.

Finally, Elizabeth’s composure faltered, and she averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Well, it has been a long day. I should retire.”

Mr Darcy nodded, his expression returning to one of polite reserve, though his eyes lingered on her with an intensity that belied his calmness. “Goodnight, Elizabeth.”

“Goodnight, Mr Darcy.” She curtsied slightly, then left the room, her heart fluttering in a way she could hardly name. In the quiet moments between letters and daily routines, Elizabeth found herself turning over her feelings for him.

Over the past fortnight, as they spent their days together dining, reading, and taking long walks in the surrounding fields, her heart had softened almost imperceptibly, yet profoundly, towards him. She often found herself surprised by his gentle humour, his intelligence, and his quiet warmth, all revealed more fully each day they spent together in his vast library. They had not kissed again, but the memory of the last one and the promises it had brought remained sweet in her memory.

The library had become their favourite retreat—Elizabeth loved his collection of books, and Mr Darcy seemed more than willing to share the treasures on each shelf with her. They would read passages aloud, and he would discuss them with an eagerness she hadn’t expected. Each evening, as the lamps were lit and the glow of the fire softened the grand space, Elizabeth would look across at him, finding herself more and more fond of the reserved yet tender man she’d come to know.

The grudges she once held now seemed trivial, almost foolish, in light of the person Mr Darcy had revealed himself to be. His kindness and generosity towards Maggie had shown her a depth she could never have imagined before coming to Pemberley. Now, her fondness for him seemed to linger in every shared glance, in the comfortable silences between their conversations, and in the moments he would lean close to show her something in one of the open books before them.