17

Elizabeth awoke feeling more tired than she had been before she had retired the night before. She was sluggish in her toilette that morning; having convinced herself that she ought not expect to see Captain Darcy, she made little effort in her appearance. Even when she heard a knock on the front door downstairs, she refused to allow herself to hope. It was probably only Lady Amelia come to snipe at her again, or emphasise her familial claim on Captain Darcy.

She regretted wearing her plainest gown without any further adornment when she discovered that it was the very man she longed to see who awaited her in the drawing room. Her hands fidgeted in the folds of the gown that was now too large for her thin frame. He was here, handsome as ever, and she was a wreck. She felt as if every tear she had shed over their separation was visible on her weary face, as the exhaustion sagged her shoulders.

He bowed and smiled, and Elizabeth managed a curtsey. Captain Darcy appeared perfectly at ease amongst her relations, and beckoned for her to join him on the sofa. Only once she was seated so near did she begin to perceive his own nervous demeanour.

He fixed her with a searching gaze; she could feel his anxiety as he took in her altered appearance. She knew she had grown paler, the angles of her face were a little sharper, and after such a sleepless night, she could do nothing about the bags under her eyes.

“Miss Elizabeth, I had hoped you would join Mr. Collins and I in discussing the end of Paradise Lost, but I recall that you are fond of a morning walk. Would you care to take a stroll in the garden instead?” It was generous of him to put it so delicately.

“I am sure it is just what she needs, after sleeping later than usual. No doubt you were kept awake by your ruminations on meeting Lady Catherine and her guest last evening,” Kitty said, her eyes practically screaming for Elizabeth to seize this chance to be alone with Captain Darcy. Kitty had not liked Lady Amelia’s presumptuous manner of speaking of her cousin so possessively.

Elizabeth did make the most of the opportunity, and acceded with the encouragement of all her relations. The fresh air and warm sun on her face were a balm to her spirits after a damp and snowy winter spent haunting her aunt and uncle’s house. Feeling her courage rising, Elizabeth did as Kitty would wish, and mentioned Lady Amelia directly. “I am sorry for the loss of your father. I suppose your cousin has come to condole with you?”

“She is something of a protege of my aunt’s, hence she is a guest at the dower house. I am not receiving visitors at Rosings while I am in mourning, and my mother is not present to act as a hostess for me,” was his cautious reply.

Elizabeth could not resist pressing a little further. She could not bear the uncertainty. “Your cousin certainly seems eager to comfort and console you.”

“What my cousin is eager for can be of no interest to me.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I am too much the gentleman to suggest you might be jealous of Lady Amelia, and gallant enough, I hope, to say that you have no cause to be so.”

“Certainly not,” Elizabeth said wryly. “Olly would never tolerate it if he heard such a preposterous thing!”

He smiled. “It would not be tolerable at all, and we both know you are a great deal better than that.”

Elizabeth began to relax at this reassurance that there was still some trace of what had once existed between them. “Olly may require some convincing that my company is far superior to that of Lady Amelia.”

“Then I must inform Olly directly that your company delights me more than anybody else of my acquaintance, and that I am far from pleased by my cousin’s presence, and even less amenable to her scheme with my aunt to promote a match between us.”

“Your aunt made no secret of her sentiments on that score,” Elizabeth said ruefully. “Nor did she endeavour to conceal her opinion of myself.”

Captain Darcy signed, but he offered her a smile. “I would be relieved to speak candidly with you, Elizabeth.”

As she basked in the pleasure of hearing her name on his lips, Elizabeth only nodded for him to continue.

“I do not expect my aunt to approve of any lady who might usurp what she considers to be her rightful place – as mistress of Rosings. If she should be obliged to cede that role to anybody, she prefers it to be her own creature, and she has found a very desirable option in Lady Amelia. But I have no interest in dancing to my aunt’s tune. I have told her so repeatedly, but she is not a woman to be gainsaid.”

“She does not strike me as such a one, though Papa seems to enjoy the attempt,” Elizabeth drawled.

He smiled at her jest, and laid a hand atop her own, which rested on his arm. “I am still in mourning, though in a few weeks I shall go down to half-mourning. I wonder if we might do as we did in Hertfordshire, and keep the furtherance of our friendship just between us.”

Their friendship. The word stung, though Elizabeth could understand his reluctance to refer to their courtship as such, when he was still so recently bereaved. And if she was honest with herself, she did not relish the idea of attracting Lady Catherine’s wrath, or the machinations of Lady Amelia.

“I should like that very much,” Elizabeth replied. “I hope this means we might continue our morning walks.”

“Just as we did in Hertfordshire,” he agreed, again reminding her of the need for privacy. She was a little chagrined that he should wish to keep her a secret, but to do otherwise might jeopardise her reputation, especially when she could not feel as sure of him as she once did.

He smiled again. “I am pleased you are come to Kent, that we might begin again, or rather, resume where we left off in November.”

Elizabeth wished desperately that it might be the same again, but though her attachment to him remained, her innocent optimism about their relationship had wasted away months ago. She averted her eyes, and he seemed to sense her unease. They came to a stop near the roses Mr. Collins had so enthusiastically pointed out to her on the day of her arrival.

“I understand you have done a great deal for my cousin – my brother, as he would have me call him.”

“I hope you will call him brother, once you are used to his new demeanour. He speaks as warmly of you as his wife does. I believe he is quite eager to win your approbation.”

“Oh dear. Was my previous dislike of him so apparent? I confess I had not thought him capable of discerning it.”

“I can think of none whose sentiments in Hertfordshire were not apparent,” he remarked with a smile that was almost flirtatious.

Elizabeth felt that familiar warmth on her cheeks, as she so often did in his company. She wished to ask him if it had indeed been for her own sake that he had made such an effort with Mr. Collins, but he answered her question before she could give voice to it.

“I knew at once that I might endeavour to make an impression on my parson. He is not the man I would have chosen for the position, as he was in the autumn – as I was then, too, I suppose. But as he and I are to reside in such proximity, and pleasant company is scarce in the area, it has been most convenient to find him so easily influenced. Had he remained in my aunt’s thrall, his malleable temper might have permanently fixed upon verbose servility, but I hope that my friendship might encourage discourse over deference. In truth, I have been lonely, and grateful for his friendship.”

Elizabeth squeezed his arm and gave him a look that conveyed the shared sentiment, though she could not say as much. She had no excuse for feeling such loneliness in London, for her young cousins were lively children and her charming aunt was never in want of visitors or invitations. Elizabeth had not been without occupation; rather she had been without what she had come to depend on most. His palliative companionship had become a necessity to her.

Elizabeth had forgotten her bonnet in her haste to be outdoors, and Captain Darcy made free to study her altered visage. “Have you been ill since last we met?”

She ought to lie, she supposed, she ought to say that she had caught cold recently, and spare him the guilt of what the deprivation of his unspoken affection had done to her no matter how many times she reread that letter he had passed to her through Olly. Instead she settled for a half truth. “It has been painful to lose the closeness I once had with Jane, but I have not been able to find my way back to it since Netherfield. Her actions, and the subsequent consequences, have caused me considerable pain. Oh, I wish she had never gone to Netherfield that day!”

Captain Darcy appeared to ponder her words for a minute. “I believe that her co-conspirator would have found another chance to get her way, with or without your sister’s aid. If it is any consolation, I am not without hope that her union with Bingley might, in time, heal the breach between you. I am very sorry for it. Theirs shall be a happier union than the one she helped bring about.”

Elizabeth considered his insinuation that his brother's marriage was not a happy one. It was not surprising, but the truth only stung that part of her heart that did truly grieve her loss of esteem for Jane. “Perhaps we ought to think of the past only as it gives us pleasure.”

“We might look to the near future with pleasure as well,” he said.

“Indeed. I have been eager to see how Kitty gets on as Mrs. Collins, and her contentment far surpasses what I had hoped for. And my new brother promises to be as amusing company as ever, for entirely different purposes. He read to us the night before last, and he did such a fine job of it that I find myself looking forward to seeing him at the pulpit on Sunday. Yes, I am happy indeed to be in Kent.” She gave him a little wink and a smile, for he must know that he was what pleased her best about her visit.

He chuckled, drawing her a little closer on his arm. “There is one other event I hope you will anticipate as I do. My mother is to return in a few weeks, and she is bringing my sister Georgiana, who is keen to meet you.”

Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat. He had told his sister about her. With every other ghastly thing demanding his attention at such a painful time, he had thought of her. “Is she?”

“She has heard a great deal of you. The months I spent at Pemberley were dark and difficult for all of us, as you can imagine. When it was too much for her and she desired some distraction, Georgiana would ask me about my time in Hertfordshire. I actually made her laugh on occasion, especially when I spoke of you. I told her how excited I was to meet the famous Lizzy of Olly’s letters, and then immediately insulted you before we were properly introduced – and how you took me to task for it. I told her how I nearly ran over that poor militiaman in the curricle and we agreed to let Olly be presumed the culprit. I told her how we read and discussed Wollstonecraft and teased your cousin about it.”

“She must think me a fearsome creature, by your account,” Elizabeth chortled.

“She has always desired a sister,” he replied, and then turned away, his face betraying that he had spoken too overtly. “My sister is not quite sixteen, and not out in society. She has little female company beyond one young lady in the neighbourhood, who shares her shy and reserved disposition. I have hope that the companionship of a more gregarious and open tempered friend might aid her in preparing to come out; certainly it would be a balm to her low spirits since losing our father.”

They came to a stop on the part of the path that afforded a fine view of Rosings Park, and they stood side by side, so close they were touching as they took in the pretty picture before them. Elizabeth looked up at Captain Darcy, sensing there was more that he wished to say. She knew he would find the words, always so carefully chosen, and so she laid her head on his shoulder and patiently waited.

After a few minutes of silence, he did speak. “I wish my sister to be happy here; indeed, it is my wish that she stay indefinitely with me here. She is always a little cowed in company with my aunt, but I believe she might outgrow it, particularly in the company of a young lady who certainly shall not be.” He arched an eyebrow at her, his lips twitching.

Elizabeth gave him a wicked smirk. “Perhaps I shall win Lady Catherine over in the end.”

“Despite your departure from reality,” he drawled, “I believe my sister will enjoy your company a great deal. Your sister will also make a charming friend to her, should she remain permanently. Even Mrs. Taylor might draw her out. There is… there is some reason I wish her away from Pemberley at present.”

“No doubt the house must be full of painful reminders, in her grief,” Elizabeth mused aloud.

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I believe you are correct. What I meant was – well, she has never been easy with Bingley’s sister. He is a great friend of Marcus and mine, and Georgiana had resigned herself to maintaining civility on the rare occasion it was required, but to actually live with the woman had been a strain on her equanimity.”

“It must be hard for your mother, as well, to see such a woman take her place.”

He leaned his head against hers, pressing their shoulders closer together. “My mother would also be happier here. As different as she is from her sister, there is true affection between them, and she dotes on Georgie. It is impossible not to, for she is truly a darling. She plays uncommonly well, and never has an unkind word for anybody. You will adore her.”

“I am sure I shall,” Elizabeth said warmly.

“I fear she may find solace elsewhere if I do not keep her here with me.”

“Do you allude to her new sister’s influence?” Elizabeth shuddered at the thought.

“I do not, though once again you are uniquely insightful. No, what I really fear is that George Wickham may wheedle his way into her affections.”

“Who is George Wickham?”

“The son of my father’s steward. His father was an excellent man, as I hope Mr. Taylor shall prove to be. My father was fond of him, and was godfather to his son, who was named for him. We are nearly the same age, and were at Eton and Cambridge together, for my father supported him. I could never bring myself to tell him of the George Wickham I saw, in unguarded moments. Marcus did, but his observations were always so couched in jest that I do not think my father even fully understood what an entitled scoundrel he had taken under his wing. He gave him the living at Kympton when I declined it, though the wretch is hardly fit for such a vocation. He was not at all pleased by the sum that was left to him in my father’s will, and I fear Georgiana’s dowry may prove a temptation.”

Elizabeth gasped. “The poor girl is so vulnerable at such a time!”

“Precisely. And I know George Wickham to be capable of taking every advantage. I hope he will not make any attempts at ingratiating himself to her with my mother returned, but bringing her here will be for the best in that regard. But he is charming enough that any less inducement than making your acquaintance might not entice her away from him. His name appeared in her most recent letter more often than I could bear.”

“She is fortunate to have such a discerning brother,” Elizabeth said. “I promise I shall endeavour to give her every cause to rejoice in coming to Kent, and Kitty will be elated to have another new friend.”

Captain Darcy turned and took her hands in his. “Thank you, Elizabeth. You have once again allowed me to unburden myself, and once again said just what I needed to hear. It is what I lo- learned to expect of you.” The unspoken word hummed in the air between them, standing as close as they were. He leaned in and gently brushed his lips over her forehead, then walked her back to the parsonage. She did not speak, but her heart reverberated in joyous song at his near-admission. He loved her as she loved him, and perhaps it would all come out right in the end somehow.