Chapter 40

CHAPTER FORTY

E lizabeth wanted Darcy to kiss her.

It was not merely desire—although there was plenty of that. They had been torn apart by life and circumstance and even their own flaws; she had believed that, due again to the choices of others, they faced separation. Suddenly their future stretched out before them, and whatever adversity they faced, she knew they would face it together. She wanted connexion and closeness. She wanted the man she had agreed to marry.

But she walked beside him in the damp morning air, saying none of those things. Was there a vocabulary for such desires? How, exactly, did one express them? It seemed impossible to simply blurt them out, baldly. Still, she tucked her arm in his, and in some mysterious translation, he seemed to interpret the language—at least to the extent that he moved in closer still, until his body warmed her all along her side, matching his stride to her shorter one. Could it be that he wanted the same things, but also lacked the words?

“It is a great relief about your sister,” he said solemnly.

“Yes,” she agreed, not really wanting thoughts of Lydia to intrude on this interlude.

He glanced down at her. “You are not pleased with the match?”

Elizabeth considered. “I am unsure how to answer that. On the one hand, George Philips is reliable and will be a good husband to her, I think. Whether she is ready to be a good wife to him is another question entirely. I believe her too young and too spoilt to easily settle into the responsibilities of marriage. On the other hand, my aunt will be good for her.”

“She will?”

Elizabeth could not prevent a smile. “I know you think she is rather silly, and so she is. Still, she will expect more of Lydia in the way of responsible behaviour than does my mother, who seems to think Lydia is approximately eight years of age. Also, my aunt is extremely persistent—she will not surrender to Lydia’s tantrums as Mama does, yet she is very patient. Papa will never allow Lydia to live at home again, so likely it will all work out for the best. In time.”

He seemed to accept that, and changed the subject to those much more pleasing—those having to do with their future life together. “The weather in Derbyshire will be cold, and Pemberley is monstrously difficult to heat. I usually remain in town after Christmas celebrations are past. However, I am anxious to show you the old pile, much of which is in need of refurbishing, and of course, you cannot begin to do any redecorating until you have seen the place. ”

They made plans then, for a journey to Pemberley to spend two or three weeks, and then a return to town before Easter. He told her of his imperious aunt—not altogether a surprise, for Mary had written extensively on the subject of Lady Catherine.

“Mary says that the behaviour Lady Catherine expects, even demands of her husband is the exact opposite of those attributes she most wishes to encourage. It is very confusing for Mr Collins.”

“Is he the type who must drift with the course of every passing breeze?”

“Oh, I suppose many of us are. It takes a great deal of courage to create one’s own direction. She says Mr Collins’s greatest desire is to please those around him. He never could satisfy his own father, who seems to have ignored him for much of his life before dying unexpectedly. Now he is caught between pleasing his wife and pleasing his patroness. It is not an easy spot to be in. Mary is clever, however. We shall see whom he listens to.” She paused. “There is a favourite verse she has marked in the family Bible. Remind me to show you one day.”

He nodded. “I came here, you know—to see you. You were not here, having already moved to town. Collins defended you most vigorously, and made obvious his low opinion of me. Since I did not at that time realise that you had not received my first letter, I thought him courting you. When you said he had asked you to marry him, I drew all the wrong conclusions.”

Elizabeth giggled. “I think Mary strongly encouraged him to ask me. She believed it the honourable thing to do. ”

He frowned, and she knew it had reminded him of their separation and her hurt and his cousin’s betrayal. It was not what she had intended. But when he spoke, it was of none of those things.

“What do you think of Georgiana?” he asked.

“I find her delightful,” she replied promptly.

“Delightful,” he repeated, as if he had never heard the word. “Puzzling, inconsistent, difficult, moody—these are the attributes that come to my mind.”

“Helpful, loving, romantic, remarkable, courageous—these more accurately describe her, to my way of thinking. She is one who creates her own direction—or who tries.”

He paused, smiling down at her. “I love the way you see people,” he said lowly, and she just knew he was about to kiss her. But the sudden sound of voices halted him in place.

“Miss Darcy! Oh, I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you. Do come back!”

“Return to the house, Kitty. I shall go after her,” Mrs Bennet ordered loudly.

They turned to see, off in the distance, Georgiana striding away from Kitty and Mrs Bennet speeding after her departing figure. Darcy sighed heavily.

Elizabeth took his hand. “Perhaps a bit moody as well,” she said, laughing, and pulled him after her mother and his sister.

Darcy quickly lost sight of Georgiana and Mrs Bennet, but Elizabeth seemed certain of the likeliest way .

“Which direction?” he asked, as they reached a turning point in the path.

“If Mama caught up to her, she would lead her to the hermitage, where there are benches nearby.”

He increased his pace—for who knew what a woman like Mrs Bennet would say? What had Miss Catherine said to distress his sister? Without meaning to, Elizabeth’s impractical mother might make everything worse, and he desperately wanted peace between their families.

They soon came upon the two ladies, sitting near a small decorative hermitage, their backs to Darcy and Elizabeth’s approach.

“I wish I had not!” Georgiana sobbed. “I wish I could take it all back, but I cannot. I cannot undo a thing!”

“Why would you want to?” Mrs Bennet asked.

Elizabeth laid a hand upon his arm, halting him in his tracks. He looked over at her, almost desperately. Georgiana, it seemed, was in a confessing sort of temper—and the woman she might confess to was not known for her discretion, not to mention that she often behaved as silly as a feather pie.

“You would never understand,” Georgiana said, tears of hopelessness in her voice.

“Was it a man?”

His sister nodded. “Catherine was telling me about how all of her sisters have married or will marry so happily, and I do not know if I can ever have that for myself, because of all my stupid mistakes.”

Mrs Bennet began patting Georgiana’s back, rubbing in a circular motion. “Whatever happened, I know one thing—all will be well,” she said softly. “ You will be well. It might not seem like it today, but you don’t need an idiot man in order to be happy. You will be happy again.”

“Are you sure?” Georgiana choked out the words miserably.

In the next moment, Georgiana was wrapped tightly in Mrs Bennet’s embrace. “Oh, of course I am. My sweet girl. My poor, sweet girl,” Mrs Bennet said, while Georgiana sobbed within the shelter of her motherly arms as if her heart would break.

Elizabeth grabbed Darcy’s hand again, leading him away from the scene. It was not until they were beyond the hearing of the others that she spoke. “Sometimes,” she said, “a girl needs nothing in the way of wisdom or advice. Sometimes, she simply needs a mother’s embrace and reassurance. Mama is good at that.”

“Very,” Darcy agreed, feeling quite foolish. He had misjudged. Again.

“And sometimes,” Elizabeth continued, a little hesitantly, “a girl needs a very different sort of embrace and reassurance.” She looked up at him from under her lashes, so lovely she took his breath away.

Darcy was a foolish man, but he was not stupid. Taking her into his arms, he attempted to show her, with every fibre of his being and every ounce of his affection, just how willing he was to meet her every need.