Chapter Twenty-Four

D arcy arrived at Carlisle House, his heart fluttering with anticipation at the prospect of seeing Elizabeth again. He had planned to escort Georgiana here earlier, but there had been a sudden bit of business to complete, and Fitz had stepped in to do the job. As he stepped down from the carriage, he was greeted by the sight of his sister and Elizabeth emerging from the house, arm in arm.

It made him deeply happy to see them so attached. As they drew closer, Georgiana unlinked her arm from Elizabeth's, said a quick "Good day, Brother," and disappeared into the carriage. She had not even waited for him to hand her in, accepting the assistance of a footman instead. He looked over his shoulder at where she had gone before turning back to Miss Elizabeth.

She smiled a little. "She seems to have the idea that you would like to speak to me."

"She is correct, though I did not expect her to leave our company quite so precipitously. Did you happen to receive a note from Lady Henrietta?"

Miss Elizabeth nodded. "Jane and I were both mentioned. It was a good letter. "

Nothing about forgiveness, but he did not believe Henrietta had earned that. Still a letter was a start.

"She apologised to Georgiana in person."

She nodded but did not comment on Lady Henrietta, instead returning to a more palatable topic.

"Your sister is a treasure," Miss Elizabeth said with enthusiasm. "Her musical talents are quite astonishing. Speaking of that, I must confess I am a bit nervous about doing justice to the piece she has written for us."

"She finished?"

"Did you not know?"

He shook his head. "She has been working diligently on it for several weeks, but I did not know she had completed it."

"Well, she has, and I fear my own musical skills may pale in comparison to the brilliance of her composition. I do hope my performance will not send the audience running."

Darcy chuckled. "Miss Elizabeth, I have no doubt your performance will be enchanting."

"Oh dear," she said archly. "More pressure. I see I shall have to practise more to prevent too many errant notes."

"Errant notes?" Darcy asked, amused. "I think not. You are no tenor."

"You have not yet heard me play, Mr. Darcy," Miss Elizabeth teased, her smile widening. "I fear you may change your tune once you have heard mine."

"I highly doubt that, Miss Elizabeth." In fact, he found himself ever more eager to hear her play, if only for the privilege of being in her presence again.

"In that case," she said flippantly, "I shall have to practise more. But at least I know I shall have one sympathetic listener who will appreciate the attempt."

Darcy brought her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss upon it. "You shall have my undivided attention and support, madam." He was elated when her cheeks pinked.

"Supper," she murmured.

That was not at all what he had thought she would say, if she said anything at all. "I beg your pardon?"

Miss Elizabeth squared her shoulders and met his gaze. "The supper dance, Mr. Darcy. At Lady Morgan's ball. I presume you have received your invitation?"

He smiled broadly. "I have."

"And you have not changed your mind?"

"I have not. And I would very much like the honour of dancing the supper set with you and sitting together afterward."

"Then I accept."

One of the horses stamped its feet and tossed its head.

She glanced behind him at the carriage. "You had better not keep your sister waiting any longer."

"No," he agreed, but did not move. He squeezed her hand lightly and bowed over it. "Until the ball, Miss Elizabeth."

"Until then," she said, waiting until he had climbed into the coach to step back and lift a hand in farewell.

Georgiana had taken the seat as far from the door as possible and was staring out the window in the opposite direction of where he had been speaking to Miss Elizabeth. He chuckled.

"Thank you for ensuring our privacy, Georgiana." It was not as though the footmen had not caught it all, but it was sweet of her.

"You are welcome, Brother," she said.

He tipped his head slightly to the side. "Did you discover what she will be wearing? "

Georgiana smiled smugly, and Darcy was startled to see a resemblance to Fitz in the expression. "I did. It is the most beautiful pale green, brother. Your green waistcoat with the ivory embroidery would be perfect."

He nodded, already planning to have his valet take it out and ensure it was ready. "Thank you, Georgie."

"How did you know she would say yes to dancing with you?" Georgiana inquired.

"I did not. I simply wished to be prepared."

"But she has accepted a dance with you now?"

Darcy leaned back against the squabs and tipped his head back, smiling. "She has."

The following day, Darcy found himself being shown into the drawing room at Carlisle House and finding Miss Elizabeth all alone. Of course, no one was ever truly alone in Carlisle House—there was a maid sitting in the corner, and Laramie was stationed in the hall, staring at them through the open door. Still, they could converse in some sort of privacy.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said. "I am grateful you had the time to see me today."

"Why would I not?" she asked.

"Lady Morgan's ball is only four days away," he replied. "My sister informs me that it takes at least a week to prepare for such an event."

Elizabeth smiled widely. "She is not wrong. But I have managed to wrest enough time for a call from my extraordinarily busy ball preparations."

"And I thank you." Darcy chuckled, then hesitated before saying, "I have a request to make of you, but you must not feel compelled to honour it if you would rather not. "

She studied his countenance for a moment, and then nodded.

"I have heard bits and pieces of what happened the night of the fire, but I am having trouble putting it all together. I think knowing it would help me understand my cousin better—and you."

A chill travelled down her back, breezy but brief. "You wish to know what happened the night of the fire?"

"If it would not harm you to speak of it."

It was difficult, for Jane and Amelia knew and no one else seemed to care. She was unpractised in the telling of it. And what would he do when she was through? Would he take the story back to his uncle and cousins only to have Lady Henrietta deny it all? Would he believe her?

She had felt cold before, now she felt hot. She closed her eyes.

"Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy said quietly. "You need not, if it will harm you to tell it."

But if she truly cared for him, if she thought she could love him—Jane had said it the night before they left Longbourn—trust must come before love. She could trust Mr. Darcy would not scorn her or think her a liar. She could trust him.

"I am well," she told him. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, and then began. "It started earlier in the day. I had protested Lady Henrietta's poor treatment of one of the maids. She had delayed Molly until she was late to her duties and then used Molly's skirt to clean her pen." Elizabeth sighed. "The skirt was ruined, and how was she to purchase another? I stepped in, and Lady Henrietta shoved me. Three of the bigger girls began to reach for me, and I swung to protect myself." She paused, glancing at Mr. Darcy's expression to gauge whether he was angry or disbelieving.

"Go on." It was said gently, and she was encouraged.

"After that the four girls, including Lady Henrietta and Lady Penelope, tossed me into a classroom despite my protests, and your cousin locked me inside. It was very cold, and there was no fire. I was there until sometime after midnight, when Jane located a key and let me out."

Darcy nodded encouragingly.

"On our way upstairs, I smelled smoke. Jane went into our room for our coats, and I began pounding on doors. Then Jane returned and helped me. When the girls came out, we told them there was a fire."

"And you left then?"

She shook her head. "There were two wings in the building. Jane and I were on one. The girls from the higher families had rooms on the other wing, which looked out on the gardens. Those girls needed to be warned."

"I see."

"Jane said she would go, but I was faster. I told her to take the first set of girls out and alert the teachers while I crossed to the other wing."

"How far had the fire progressed at that point?"

"There was a great deal of smoke, and I could see some flames in the ceiling."

Mr. Darcy met her gaze with a serious look. "Forgive me for interrupting."

She took a deep breath and continued. "When I reached Lady Henrietta's room, she came to the door and asked what I was doing there. I told her there was a fire, and she went back inside. I presumed she had gone to fetch her coat, for as I said, it was cold." She hesitated.

"But at some point, you realised she was not with you," Darcy prompted.

"The smoke was very thick, but I had kept careful track of where we were, and I led them all out to the top of the stairs, where the air was better. But when I counted the girls, I came up one short."

"You went back for her? "

"Lady Penelope suggested that I was the best person for the job." She smiled wryly. "I was resentful, but I could not simply leave her there, no matter how much I wished it was someone else's job to do it. So yes, I went back."

"And the fire had progressed, I presume?"

"As fire tends to do, yes."

He smiled encouragingly.

"I managed to wake your cousin enough to get her to stumble to the window, and she revived a bit with the fresh air. Enough that we could climb down the trellis, for there was no other way out by that time." She looked away. "But Lady Henrietta was too heavy for it, and so somewhere around the first floor, the whole thing separated from the wall and down we went."

Mr. Darcy was very still, and until she looked up and was caught in his gaze, Elizabeth did not know what to think. But in his eyes she saw not only belief, but admiration.

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. "So Lady Henrietta was unkind to you—shoved you, accosted you, locked you in a classroom"—his eyes were glossy, though no tears escaped them—"and you went back to save her anyway."

Elizabeth's voice was eerily hollow, and she wondered at it. "Someone had to."

There was a moment of silence, and then Elizabeth felt Mr. Darcy taking her hands.

"Thank you," he said, his voice as hoarse as hers. "Although Lady Henrietta is not my favourite relation, my family has suffered so many losses already, I do not like to think of losing anyone else."

"Thank you," she said.

"Whatever for? "

"Believing me."

His eyebrows pinched together. "Miss Elizabeth, you have always been honest with me."

She laughed quietly. "Yes, you are a frequent recipient of my frankness."

His lips curled up on one side. It was a mischievous look on a man who was more often stern, and she liked it very much. "Then please allow me to say—I shall always believe you."

She blinked away the tears that threatened. "Oh, you have now given me a wonderful boon, Mr. Darcy. I may say any number of ridiculous things, and you will have to believe them all."

He was not fooled by her nonsense, she could see that in his gaze. But he allowed it, and the remainder of their visit was spent in much pleasanter conversation.

For the three days preceding Lady Morgan's ball, Elizabeth received a token from Mr. Darcy. First, there was a small book of sonnets. Then an elegant silk ribbon bookmark for the book. And finally, some sheet music for the flute that appeared far simpler than the piece Georgiana had written for her—she might actually be able to do it justice. Then, on the morning of the ball, Mr. Darcy sent each of the ladies, including Lady Carlisle, a small bouquet of flowers.

Elizabeth's were the only roses, six of them, deep red, tied with a white silk ribbon.

"He is quite the efficient lover, is he not, Miss Elizabeth?" Lord Carlisle said with a laugh. "I would never have guessed it."

"Nor I," she admitted. But it was a glorious feeling to be so cared for.

"Perhaps his sister helped him," Lady Carlisle suggested with a sly glance. "For I think Miss Darcy is as excited about having Elizabeth for a sister as her brother is pleased to have her for his wife."

"He has made no proposal, Lady Carlisle," Elizabeth demurred.

"Oh, but Lizzy, you must enjoy being courted," Amelia said. "He is so frightfully handsome and rather clever. You need a clever husband, I think, to match your own wit."

"No one is saying anything about marriage, Amelia," Elizabeth repeated, keenly aware that Jane was sitting next to her and still mourning the loss of Mr. Bingley. She had sent him on his way, and they had not heard from him since.

Elizabeth had expected to hear from him again, even if Jane had not. Still, if Mr. Bingley was truly not man enough to stand up even to his sisters to protect Jane, it was better that he not meet with them again.

"I think he would make Elizabeth a fine husband," Jane said quietly, "but she must like him."

Everyone's eyes turned to Elizabeth, and she held up her hands, palms out. "I am not ready to make any declarations." If Mr. Darcy made an offer, she would discuss it with him, not all and sundry.

Jane smiled, and Elizabeth shook her head. Her sister always knew what she was thinking. Mr. Darcy was not perfect, but he was honest. In fact, the objections he had stated at Lady Ashford's ball all those weeks ago now assured her that he had considered her lack of familial connections and still decided in favour of a courtship. He was, at heart, a good man, a thoughtful man, a man she believed would see to her needs as well as her protection. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of them as husband and wife.

That surprised her. She could see them married, which meant that just as he had decided to pursue her, she had decided to trust him .

Could it be so easy?

She cast her mind back over the course of their relationship. Well, perhaps it had not been easy. Perhaps it had just been gradually sneaking up on her. She had been in the middle of learning to trust him before she knew she had begun. His reaction to her story of the fire had sealed it. And if she could trust him . . .

"Lizzy," Jane inquired, "are you well?"

"I am," she assured her sister. "Merely thinking of what you said to me the night before we left Longbourn."

Jane smiled knowingly.

"I am off to the Lords," Lord Carlisle said, folding his newspaper and setting it down on the table. "Do make sure to rest this afternoon, ladies, as we shall be out very late."

They all said their farewells to the earl, and Elizabeth wandered back up to her chambers. The nosegay had been placed in a small vase near her bed, and the perfume from the roses filled the air with the promise of spring. The worst of the winter was behind them now.

A quarter of an hour later, Jane knocked softly on the door.

"Lizzy, will you join me?"

They made their way silently back to their sitting room, where Jane closed the door to the hall and turned the key in the lock before nodding at the two wing chairs that were placed before the fire.

"Lizzy," Jane said quietly, "Mr. Darcy's attentions have clearly not gone unnoticed."

"He is not a man to be ignored," Elizabeth teased.

"Further," Jane continued as though she had not been interrupted, "I dare say they are not unwelcome."

Elizabeth sighed and took up some embroidery. "I cannot deny that my feelings for Mr. Darcy have changed, Jane. He has proven himself a faithful friend and a man of excellent character. It is only that . . . I find myself trusting him."

"And this is somehow a problem?" Jane could have laughed at her, but she did not. Her question hung in the air.

Elizabeth sighed and focused on her stitching. "The thought of opening my heart, of trusting him with the rest of my life—I cannot pretend that it is not a little terrifying."

"I understand your hesitation." Jane spoke with great empathy. "After enduring the disappointing character of our own parents, our father in particular, it is only natural to guard your heart. But Lizzy, Mr. Darcy is most decidedly not Papa. From all I have seen and heard"—she made a strange face—"from almost all I have seen and heard, he is a man of integrity and honour."

Elizabeth looked up to meet her sister's gentle gaze. "I think I believe that. I do believe that. The Carlisles speak highly of him, and Georgiana adores him. But the power a husband holds over his wife is absolute."

"Love in marriage is about trust and partnership. You promised to look for love, just as I did. And I have no doubt that Mr. Darcy would cherish and respect you as his partner. He has shown you that he is willing to listen to your concerns, has he not?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "Yes, he has certainly done that. He has also been quite respectful of my wishes."

"He has," Jane agreed. "And I dare say, sister, that your heart is already more deeply engaged than you admit. You may not be aware, but when you speak of him, you light up like the gas lamps in Pall Mall, and there is a joy in your voice when you recount your conversations with him. It makes me very happy. "

Elizabeth felt a warmth spreading through her chest. "I cannot deny it, Jane, not to you. My affection for Mr. Darcy grows deeper with each passing day."

"Dearest," Jane said, "this might require more bravery than anything you have ever done. But allow yourself to be open to the possibility of happiness. I have faith that if you do, Mr. Darcy will prove himself worthy of your trust and affection. Tonight, allow yourself to simply feel . Do not waste what could be a magnificent evening listing every possible disaster that might occur should you allow your heart to lead."

Elizabeth took a very deep breath and slowly released it. "I shall do as you ask."

Jane smiled brightly. "If you do, I have no doubt that you will find the happiness you so richly deserve. And I shall be here, of course, to support you."

Elizabeth put her embroidery to the side and embraced her sister. "You always are, Jane. I do not know what I would do without you."

"Fortunately," Jane replied, "there is no need to find out."

"What did you think of that one, Darcy?" Bingley asked as they exited a handsome, three-story brick townhouse. "I told the solicitor to prepare the lease when I saw it yesterday so that unless you saw something I did not, I could move in right away."

It was the fourth and final home they had toured over the past fortnight. It had been taken by a wealthy family from the south who had been called home by the ill health of the husband's mother. Darcy recognized the name, though he had never met them. He had been relieved that the agent had managed to find so many choices, but this was really the only one that was suitable.

"Well maintained and spacious enough. Decent neighbourhood. And the solicitor told you it is available to move in today if you wish?"

"He did. He was attempting to entice me."

"He knew precisely how to do it. I hope you are not paying too much."

"One thing I can do entirely on my own is negotiate price, Darcy," Bingley said with a laugh. He stood on the pavement, hands on hips, staring up at the stone building with a critical eye. "I think it is the only one of the lot I can see myself bringing Miss Bennet home to. And the speed with which I can take possession is indeed a powerful incentive."

Darcy suppressed a smile. He had been worried that once Bingley sobered up, he might return to his vacillating ways, but Miss Bennet's sending him away had shocked his younger friend out of his complacency. Of course, Bingley had not yet told his sisters that he was finding himself another place, and that would be the true test of his resolve.

"Shall we repair to the solicitor's office, then?"

Bingley grinned. "Yes! I can hardly believe I am finally taking this step. It feels like the beginning of new chapter in my life."

"I am pleased for you, Bingley," Darcy said, "but recall that you are still in chapter one."

"Oh, I have not forgotten," Bingley replied. "I have thought about how I plan to tell my sisters and Hurst that I am leaving and that I shall not be taking Caroline with me."

"And what have you come up with?" Darcy asked.

"I plan to pack my trunks and have them moved first. Then I will return to Hurst's and explain what I am doing and why."

"Do you think you can remove your belongings from the house without being noticed? "

"They never pay any mind to what I do unless they want something from me," Bingley said. "It vexes me, usually, but now I need only take advantage of their conceit. Besides, this way Caroline cannot break anything that belongs to me."

This was concerning. "Would Miss Bingley actually go into your chambers and damage your things?"

"I am the youngest," Bingley reminded him. "She did it when we were children, and she has never stopped."

Darcy clapped his friend on the back. "I am proud of you, Bingley. You are making yourself a man who is ready to woo a woman in earnest."

Bingley took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together. "That is the hope. Miss Bennet is special to me, Darcy. I only hope I am not too late."

"You can only do what you are doing now," Darcy told him. "The rest is out of your hands."

It took only a little more than an hour to travel to the agent's office and sign the lease. As they returned to Darcy's carriage, Bingley asked, "Do you think Miss Bennet will be at Lady Morgan's ball tonight?"

Darcy's heart skipped a beat, and he wondered whether Miss Elizabeth had received the roses. Had she liked them? "I believe the entire Carlisle party will be in attendance."

"Perhaps she will dance with me." Bingley's eyes narrowed. "My things are already packed. I shall have them carried away immediately as Caroline and Louisa are sure to be closeted in their chambers all day, preparing. I cannot ask Miss Bennet to honour me with her hand this evening unless this part is done."

Darcy swung himself up into the coach behind Bingley, and they began to move, the wheels clattering along the cobblestones.

"You plan to confront your sisters before the ball?" Darcy asked. It hardly seemed propitious timing .

"I do—because they will still wish to attend, and they are doing so on my invitation." Bingley smiled. "Your invitation, really, but they are only included because I am. And I will make it perfectly clear that any future invitations will depend upon their continued excellent behaviour." He sighed. "I am looking forward to seeing Miss Bennet again, having accomplished all of this."

Darcy's thoughts drifted to Miss Elizabeth and the supper dance. "I find myself anticipating the evening's festivities as well."

His friend laughed. "I have no doubt."