23. Twenty-Three

Twenty-Three

D arcy stepped down from the carriage, his boots striking the sanded ice in the drive with deliberate precision. Georgiana followed, her gloved hands clutching her cloak as her eyes widened at the sight of Netherfield’s grand facade.

“Brother, it is even lovelier than you described,” she sighed.

Darcy forced a smile in return. “It has its charms.”

The doors opened before they reached the steps, and Bingley bounded out. “Darcy! Miss Darcy! Welcome back! Good heavens, man, we feared you might have got lost in your ledgers, and I would have to send an express to Wilson to evict you from your own study. And you have brought Miss Darcy! Why, this is, indeed, a pleasure!”

Georgiana smiled warmly. “Mr. Bingley, it is wonderful to see you again. My brother told me of everything you were doing here, though I suspect he understated it.”

Bingley’s grin widened. “A pleasure indeed, Miss Darcy. And I’ll take that as a challenge to exceed my already glowing reputation. Come along—there’s enough bustle inside to rival an assembly at Almack’s!”

As they entered the drawing room, Colonel Fitzwilliam rose from the sofa where he had been conversing with Sir Thomas. His face lit up as he strode toward Georgiana. “Georgie! Look at you—have you grown taller since I last saw you? Or is it just that Darcy’s sour face makes you seem taller by comparison?”

Georgiana giggled, curtseying slightly. “Cousin Richard. I am glad to find you in good humor.”

“It is my natural state,” Fitzwilliam said with a wink. “Especially now that we have reinforcements to wrangle this lot into shape.”

Sir Thomas stepped forward next, his expression warm but reserved. “Miss Darcy, it is a pleasure to meet you at last. Your brother has spoken very highly of you.”

Georgiana blushed faintly and dipped another curtsey. “Thank you, Sir Thomas. I am honored to be here.”

Sir Thomas gestured toward the room. “Your timing is fortuitous. There is still much to do before tomorrow’s gathering.”

Bingley clapped his hands together. “Indeed! Miss Darcy, I wonder if you might assist the ladies with preparations. Miss Flora and Mrs. Jackson have been juggling details all day. They could use your insight.”

“Of course!” Georgiana replied eagerly. “I mean, I have never planned anything like this, but I would be glad to help.”

Bingley grinned. “Excellent. And tomorrow morning, Miss Bennet and her younger sisters will be arriving to assist Sir Thomas’s household in dressing for the party. They are lending gowns from their own collections, but Darcy and I sent for more from Town—you did bring them back with you, did you not, Darcy?”

Darcy nodded. “If you look behind my carriage, you will see a drayage cart loaded with trunks to that purpose.”

“Excellent! Every lady is meant to feel beautiful tomorrow night.”

Georgiana’s eyes lit up. “How thoughtful! I would love to meet them and help.”

Darcy’s stomach twisted. An army of Bennet sisters, come to array the ladies of Netherfield in splendor… but Elizabeth would not be among them. Egad, how was he to survive the next couple of days?

He forced a nod and turned toward Fitzwilliam, grasping for a distraction. “Richard, what else remains to be arranged?”

“Plenty, though we’ve made progress. Bingley and I have been attempting to teach some of the chaps to dance. A noble effort, but one that’s mostly ended in bruised toes.”

Bingley chuckled ruefully. “The men are willing, but the coordination is… lacking.”

Darcy grunted. “Well, this is not a ball, for a mercy. There will be no dancing.”

Fitzwilliam’s expression sobered. “Just a bit of a jest, Darcy. Criminy, where has your humor gone? I know as well as you do that some of those fellows have peg legs or injuries that make dancing impossible. Watching others enjoy it might only remind them of what they’ve lost. But we did have a bit of fun in between hanging greenery and new drapes, eh, Bingley?”

“Indeed.” Darcy looked away, his thoughts drifting to Elizabeth. A good thing there was to be no formal dancing. The very idea of dancing without her felt hollow. It was not just the soldiers who would find no joy in it.

Georgiana touched his arm lightly. “Brother, shall I begin with Miss Flora and Mrs. Jackson?”

“Yes,” Darcy replied, more quickly than he intended. “Of course, though I am sure you want to refresh yourself first. But I think they will be grateful for your help.”

She smiled, but the question in her eyes overshadowed any pleasure in her face. She had sensed his mood since London—how could she not? Thus far, he had tried to shield her from his bitter disappointment, but it would become more difficult now, with the loss of Elizabeth creating a gaping hole where once joy had taken root. He squeezed her hand, and she followed the maid out of the room.

Fitzwilliam glanced at Darcy, his brow furrowed. “Rough travels? You look worse than some of those poor devils in the ballroom.”

Darcy exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “It is nothing. Let us ensure tomorrow’s gathering meets its purpose.”

Fitzwilliam watched him for a beat longer before nodding. “Whatever you say, Darcy.”

But Darcy’s mind remained elsewhere, the ache of Elizabeth’s absence gnawing at him. He had envisioned this moment—the introduction of Georgiana to Elizabeth—countless times. Now, it felt like a shadow of what it could have been. Without her, even his best efforts seemed to falter.

M rs. Bennet burst through the front door, her shawl trailing behind her as she waved both arms in the air. “Lizzy! Is it really you?” Kitty and Lydia followed on her heels, their skirts tangling as they raced each other to the coach. “What a surprise! We had no notion you would return so soon!”

Kitty and Lydia darted forward, almost colliding with each other in their haste. “Lizzy! Oh, what timing!” Kitty started, her breath coming fast. “You’ll never believe the arrangements.”

Lydia cut in, barely waiting for Kitty to finish. “Mama and Mrs. Philips have been working endlessly. You should see the decorations!”

“And Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley sent crates of things from Town,” Kitty added. “You should see the trimmings! Ribbons, lace, everything!”

Mrs. Bennet fanned herself with her apron, beaming. “Oh, it’s been a flurry of work, but we’ve prevailed. The neighborhood is positively abuzz, and it’s all thanks to our efforts! Even Mrs. Long had to admit—”

Kitty broke in again, barely pausing to breathe. “Oh, and the gowns! Jane and I just came back from Netherfield. Lizzy, wait until you see them. Dozens of them, all sent straight from Town.”

“They’re perfect!” Lydia crowed. “And we’re going to help the Netherfield ladies dress tomorrow. We’ll be arranging their hair, styling them—it’s like something from a novel!”

Elizabeth laughed, almost lost in the swirl. “You’ve all been very industrious. I shall have to see what wonders you’ve accomplished.”

Mrs. Bennet looped her arm through Elizabeth’s, drawing her toward the house. “Oh, Lizzy, you cannot imagine the work we’ve had convincing the entire neighborhood to attend! Mrs. Philips and I have all but pleaded with Mrs. Dunning and Mrs. Goulding, but what finally got them is hearing that Mrs. Purvis and Lady Lucas will have the pleasure of seeing their daughters with so many beaux and Netherfield all beautiful with candles. Oh, and the musicians! Did you hear about the musicians? And now everyone is coming! It will be the grandest affair Hertfordshire has ever seen, I daresay.”

Elizabeth’s feet barely touched the ground as they dragged her inside. Jane appeared at the doorway, her calm presence a stark contrast to the bustle. “Lizzy,” she said with a conspiratorial smile, “it is so good to have you home.”

Elizabeth returned the smile, though she felt her sister’s assessing gaze. Jane knew . Of course, Jane knew. She always did.

As soon as they were fully inside, Elizabeth turned toward the stairs, but Jane caught her arm. “We must speak,” she said, her voice low. “Come upstairs with me.”

“In a moment,” Elizabeth replied, gently extracting herself. “I should like to speak with Papa first.”

Jane’s brow lifted, and a knowing look flickered across her face. “Very well. But do not think you will escape me, Lizzy.”

“I know better than that.” She made her way to her father’s library and found him seated comfortably with a book, his glasses perched low on his nose. He glanced up as she entered, his expression both pleased and amused.

“Ah, my prodigal daughter returns,” he said, setting his book aside. “I trust your sojourn in London was not entirely unpleasant?”

Elizabeth smiled faintly, closing the door behind her. “It was… enlightening.”

Mr. Bennet gestured toward the chair opposite him. “Come, sit. I have missed our conversations, and I suspect you have something to say.”

Elizabeth hesitated before sitting, folding her hands tightly in her lap. “Papa,” she began, “I returned because I needed to know the truth.”

“About what, my dear?” he asked, though his tone suggested he already had some inkling.

“About Mr. Darcy,” she began hesitantly, her hands fidgeting with the folds of her skirt.

Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow, though his expression remained mild. “Ah, the man who so recently turned our neighborhood into a flurry of lace and ribbons. You know how I love lace and ribbons. Go on.”

Elizabeth drew in a breath, then let it out slowly. “I thought I understood him. I thought I saw his character clearly, and… I admired it.”

“That sounds like the beginning of a glowing recommendation. But I suspect you are about to temper it with a sharp critique.”

She shook her head, frowning. “No, it isn’t that. I—” She paused, pressing her lips together before continuing. “I allowed myself to be swayed by hearsay. By gossip I should have known better than to trust.”

Mr. Bennet tilted his head, watching her closely. “Hearsay, is it? From a reliable source, I presume?”

Elizabeth gave a soft, humorless laugh. “I thought so at the time. Colonel Fitzwilliam is his cousin, after all.”

“Ah, cousins,” he mused, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Always the keepers of our deepest truths—or so they claim.”

She couldn’t help but smile faintly at his tone, but quickly sobered. “I was too quick to believe the worst of him. His cousin spoke of ambition, of plans that seemed so… calculated. And I let myself think it meant Mr. Darcy was using everyone at Netherfield as pawns.”

“But since you are here, should I assume that opinion has changed?”

Elizabeth hesitated. “New information, I suppose, and… Oh, no, that will not do. The more I thought on it, the more I decided what I had believed did not align with the man I had come to know. The man who has shown care and respect—to Sir Thomas, to the people under his roof. To my family. To me.”

He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “And what does this realization mean to you, Lizzy?”

She looked down at her hands, then back up at her father, her voice trembling slightly. “It means I was wrong, Papa. It means I judged him unfairly based on hearsay. And now… I don’t know if I have ruined everything.”

He snorted. “Ruined everything, you say? Come, Lizzy, I had persuaded myself that you were the least silly of all my girls. Do not go and prove me wrong with some histrionic exaggeration.”

“But I have! I as good as spat on his shoes, Papa. What man would be fool enough to let me near him again?”

Her father waved dismissively. “I daresay, Lizzy, you know little enough about men if you think that. I never saw a man so heartbroken that he would not burn up the soles of his boots running back to the object of his affection if she but smiled at him once more.”

She dashed a tear from her cheek. “I think you overestimate—”

“I overestimate nothing.” Her father gave her a wry look and crossed his arms. “The man has had stars in his eyes since the first time I ever saw him—odd, though. He only looked that way when you were in the room.”

Elizabeth looked up, her breath catching slightly. “Are you… sure of that, Papa?”

He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lizzy, how do you feel about him? ”

She gulped. Could she say it out loud? “I think… I think he might be the best man I have ever known. But I need to be sure.”

He raised a single brow.

“Indeed, it is true, Papa. That is why I came back in such a hurry. I had to see for myself if it is true.”

Mr. Bennet studied her for a long moment. “Well, Lizzy, I cannot say I am surprised. You have always had an inconvenient fondness for discovering the truth, even when it disrupts your peace.”

She laughed softly, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Do you think I am wrong, Papa?”

He shook his head. “No, my dear. But whether you are right or not, I think you will never forgive yourself if you do not find out.”

Elizabeth smiled, feeling something like a vise easing its grip on her heart. “Thank you, Papa.”

He nodded, reaching for his book again. “Now, off with you before your sisters come battering down the door. You have a great deal of prying to endure upstairs, I am sure.”

Elizabeth rose, a small laugh escaping her. “Indeed, I do.”

“ B last it, Darcy, is this table made of lead?” Fitzwilliam grunted as they maneuvered the unwieldy trestle toward its designated spot.

Darcy adjusted his grip. “Perhaps you have spent too much time in drawing rooms and not enough in the field, Cousin.”

Fitzwilliam let out a sharp breath, dropping his end onto the floor with a dull thud. “And here I thought being a soldier was strenuous. Remind me not to assist with your next party.”

Darcy straightened, his gaze sweeping the bustling room. Soldiers shuffled chairs into rows, Bingley was directing the butcher’s delivery boy near the door, and Sir Thomas calmly orchestrated the chaos with an encouraging word here and a steadying hand there.

“Nor is it my usual occupation, I assure you.”

Fitzwilliam leaned against the table, surveying the scene. “I imagine at Pemberley, the servants do all this before you even blink. Admit it, Darcy—you are enjoying this.”

Darcy glanced around the room, the makeshift crew hauling decorations and aligning chairs. There was an honesty to the effort, a shared sense of purpose he had not experienced in years. “There is something refreshing about this,” he admitted. “A man takes pride in a task when he must do it himself.”

Fitzwilliam’s grin widened. “Refreshing? I shall remind you of that when we are moving the next table.”

Before Darcy could reply, Bingley’s voice rang out from the doorway. “The Bennets are here!” And then he was bounding out the door to greet them. Naturally.

Darcy’s pulse quickened, his first thought unbidden: Elizabeth . He turned slightly toward the door but caught himself.

What was the point? He already knew she would not be with them. She had gone to London, far removed from this moment, from this place—and from him.

Fitzwilliam raised an eyebrow. “Not going to greet them, Darcy? That is rather unsociable, even for you.”

Darcy turned back to the trestle, gripping its edge as if it required his undivided attention. “I am occupied,” he replied brusquely. “Besides, Bingley is more than capable of seeing the ladies and all their trunks and so on upstairs.”

Fitzwilliam gave a knowing hum, but he said nothing further. Darcy bent to his work, the murmurs of greetings and laughter filtering in from the entry hall as the Bennets were welcomed. Each sound grated against his composure, a stark reminder of what—of who —was missing.

“Richard, are you going to help or just stand there like a bleeding stump?” he growled.

Richard gave him a sidelong glance, then cleared his throat as he set back to work. “Yes, yes, let us get on with it. I say, ah… How did you find my father when you were in London, Darcy?”

Darcy tightened his jaw and reached for another table, unwilling to meet his cousin’s gaze. “I did not see him.”

“You didn’t see him? Why ever not? You went all the way to London, turned up in Mother’s drawing room to collect Georgiana, and you never greeted my father? I thought you would have a dozen things to discuss with him.”

“I did not feel equal to the conversation.”

Fitzwilliam chuckled, hoisting his end of the table as Darcy moved the other side into place. “I can only imagine. What would the Earl of Matlock think of all this ? A Darcy of Pemberley, carrying tables and playing host to ex-soldiers and tradesmen alike? I hope you did not tell him I was here.”

Darcy’s hands tightened on the edge of the table. “He would think precisely what I told him to think.”

Richard squinted at him. “Eh? You just said you did not see him. How…?”

“I said all that was needed in the letter I wrote to him last week. He and I took opposing views of the purpose of this party. Where I saw a chance to help someone, he saw… other opportunities. Considering the realization that our opinions differed so wildly, I have withdrawn my intentions to run for office.”

Fitzwilliam froze mid-motion, the corner of the table nearly slipping from his grip. “What?” He set it down abruptly, staring at Darcy in open disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“I am. I have given the matter due consideration. The compromises required for a career in politics would have rendered the position meaningless to me.”

“But you—you’ve been preparing for this for years! It was the logical next move.”

Darcy straightened. “It was never what I wanted. I only thought it would be expected. Useful. But I have no interest in living a life dictated by the expectations of others.”

Still gaping, Fitzwilliam muttered, “Well, don’t I look the fool? I’ve been telling everyone what a fine statesman you’d make. Including Miss Elizabeth.”

Darcy’s head snapped up, his expression hardening. “Miss Elizabeth?”

“Indeed, who else? I thought she, of all people, would fancy hearing—”

“ What did you say to her?”

Richard blinked. “I only said that this party was a fine endeavor, and it could serve your political career well. I thought I was helping to talk you up, Darcy.”

A surge of anger rose in his chest. “You thought—” He let out a sharp breath, pacing a few steps away. “You thought you were helping ? You’ve undone everything, Richard!”

“What?” Richard looked genuinely confused. “I say, what the devil do you mean?”

“You have made me look like an opportunist! Like I am exploiting this entire effort for my own gain.” Darcy’s voice rose, his frustration spilling over. “She must have believed every word you said!”

Richard stepped back, his face falling in realization. “Darcy, I swear, I didn’t mean—”

“This is why she left for London! She thinks I am exactly the man I’ve worked so hard not to be! Egad, who could blame her for washing her hands of me?”

“Oh, come. Surely it had nothing to do with—”

“It had everything to do with it! Little wonder she could hardly stand the sight of me.” He lurched for the door. “I’ll call for my horse. I’ll ride to London now and—”

Richard grabbed his arm, halting him. “Darcy, stop. Think.”

Darcy spun to face him, his expression fierce. “ What am I to think, Richard? That you’ve cost me the only woman I have ever—” He broke off, his voice snagging on the words.

Richard held up his hands in apology. “I’m sorry, Darcy. Truly, I am. I really thought it sounded fine—responsible and benevolent and all that, but taken a certain way…”

“What sort of woman did you think she was?” Darcy raged. “The sort to lust for power and wealth? The sort I have spent years avoiding?”

Richard’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You are right. She is not at all like that—I am heartily sorry, Darcy. But you cannot leave now. The party is in a few hours. If you abandon this, all of it will have been for nothing.”

Darcy’s shoulders sagged. His breath came hard and fast, the effort to restrain himself almost as taxing as his earlier labors. He glared at Richard, fists clenched at his sides. “You are right,” he bit out, his voice low and tight. “But do not think for a moment that this is over. When this party is done, you and I will have a reckoning.”

Richard offered a faint, nervous smile. “I’ll even confess it all to her myself, if it helps. When this is done, you can take a swing at me. Break my nose, bust my jaw—whatever you like.”

Darcy’s lips twitched despite himself, though his voice remained hard. “You deserve worse.”

Richard chuckled weakly. “Probably. But first, let’s see this party through. Then, first thing tomorrow, we will go to London together and bring your lady home.”