Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Three weeks later

The lumbering carriage could not move fast enough for Arthur. It had taken far too much time to conclude his business in London, and he was anxious to return to Pemberley. Had Darcy passed on his message properly? Did she receive the book, see the flower, find any significance in the poem? Arthur was determined to waste no more time where Miss Lucas was concerned and nervously looked forward to seeing her, speaking with her. But, as many sleepless nights as he'd had to think of the perfect things to say, nothing seemed right.

The urgent message from his solicitor concerning Rosings Park couldn't have come at a worse time. The meetings with his solicitor and the estate manager regarding tenants' property rights had taxed his mind and body. Arthur was not used to spending so much time in the heaving, noisy city, and had not been raised or educated to manage an estate. It did not come naturally, and he struggled with his role in life for the first time. Only the thought of returning to see Maria kept him focused.

He had dreamt of her. She was standing in a garden, surrounded by flowers, her long golden hair falling freely in waves. An ethereal glow lit the scene. She sweetly called his name, "Arthur!" and his heart felt like it wanted to burst from his chest. Brimming with pure love and joy, he reached out to her…and awoke.

Recalling it now, Arthur groaned and leaned his head back against the cushion. If only he could sleep now, he might find her in his dreams.

The day's journey had been long and wearying, but Arthur accomplished his goal of reaching Pemberley in time for dinner that evening. Tomorrow was the ball, and Arthur hoped to speak with Maria this evening.

Once in his room, Arthur had only a few moments in which to rest before he'd need to wash and change for dinner. He collapsed onto his bed and inhaled deeply, releasing a heavy sigh.

Roses.

Why could he smell roses?

Arthur turned his head on his pillow and there on the bedside table was a handkerchief, neatly folded. He sat up and gingerly lifted the cloth to his nose. Roses. Not just roses, but the same rosewater perfume he had often noticed Maria wearing. He unfolded the handkerchief and his mouth fell open.

It was the handkerchief he had given her in the garden, but before returning it to him, she had neatly embroidered "AF" in one corner, artistically incorporating the letters into a design of light purple petals. His brow creased as he examined the tiny flowers. Yes, they were the same flowers she had pointed out in the garden, the one he had pressed between the pages of her book from the library.

His heart soared. The book had been returned to her, and she had received his message. Hopefully, in more ways than one.

With renewed vigour, he bounded off the bed to make himself presentable for dinner.

"Cousin, forgive me for not greeting you on your return, I did not know we were expecting you this evening," Mr Darcy said as Arthur rushed into the drawing room, just in time.

"There is nothing to forgive, I have only just now arrived." Arthur's eyes met those of Maria Lucas across the room, and his entire body hummed with pent up anticipation. She was smiling at him, shyly, sweetly; Arthur felt he might expire on the spot.

He made a sweep around the room, dutifully greeting those in attendance: Darcy, Elizabeth, and Georgiana, of course, and Elizabeth's uncle and aunt Mr and Mrs Gardiner, also visiting for the ball, whom he had met before. Then finally, Miss Lucas.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, I'm so glad you have returned, and just in time," she said earnestly, dipping into a perfunctory curtsey.

Arthur clasped her hand and bowed over it. "Miss Lucas. I wouldn't have missed this for the wide world." Oblivious to the speculative looks now being exchanged around the room, he continued to hold her hand, and he was content to drink in the sight of her, seeing with fresh eyes. The moment was interrupted by the call into dinner, and Arthur offered his arm to her.

Their party was too small to allow any intimate conversation at the table, and with preparations for the ball taking priority, everyone agreed to retire immediately after dinner. While Elizabeth was distracted by a conversation with her aunt, Arthur swiftly took the opportunity to pull Miss Lucas aside and said in a low voice, "There is so much I wish to discuss, but for now, may I claim the first dance with you tomorrow night?"

Maria nodded, and he continued, "Thank you for my handkerchief, the detail is exquisite. As I knew it would be."

Maria dipped her head and blushed. "Thank you… Arthur," she whispered. "And thank you too for the book. I was inspired by the poem you had marked for me."

By God, he wanted to fold this woman in his arms and kiss her senseless. His fingers itched to reach out and stroke her cheek. Patience, man. "I would gladly discuss it with you, but I imagine Elizabeth will require your assistance tomorrow with the preparations, so I will instead count the hours until our dance. Good night, Miss Lucas." He added in a low murmur only she could hear, "Maria."