Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty

A little after noon, about a week after Elizabeth had sent her letter to Darcy, she wandered into the stables, meaning to ask to be taken out to call on Lady Ravenswood, then Mrs. Harrington, and afterwards the wife of the vicar at Kympton.

She ought to have sent a servant to tell the coachman, but Elizabeth had spent the past two hours sitting by the piano with Georgiana — how the girl could bear to sit still for so long as she did mystified Elizabeth. Certainly, Georgiana adored the piano, and it required motion to play, but it was not precisely exercise.

Even when Elizabeth was absorbed in a book, she tended to walk for half the time whilst reading — either on paths outside if the weather was pleasant, or up and down the hallway inside if it was not.

She needed to stretch her legs if she was to face the prospect of thirty more minutes seated in a carriage while she returned calls. After exiting the house on the entrance on the opposite side of the stables, and walking briskly round while admiring the stream and the pond with its coating of ice atop, Elizabeth came round to the stables, and opened the door.

Oh my .

Mr. Darcy stood by the stove, his hands deep in a wash basin that was kept filled with lukewarm water, so it was easier to clean off the grime of travel. He was only in his white shirtsleeves, and the fabric was soaked. He could not see her because he was rubbing his face with a wet towel.

Her mouth went dry. He was all muscles and chest hair, wet and skin.

It was impossible to look away from the hypnotic motion of his body.

As he finished wiping at his face, he put the towel to the side, "John, is there anything amiss with Poseidon?"

Elizabeth could not respond, and especially could not speak as John would have about the state of Darcy's horse. He looked towards her. He started and his mouth dropped open. "Elizabeth."

"Mr. Darcy!"

They stared at each other for a seemingly long time. Elizabeth was aware of how she'd ogled him, and that they were alone.

She swallowed. She wanted him. "We had no idea you were to return."

"I came fast enough that I would outride the post, and I determined that it was not worth the expense of sending a messenger ahead."

"Ah." Elizabeth looked down and blushed. But the desire to just look at him forced her eyes up once more. His dark hair was wet and curling over his face, and she could see through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"And is Georgiana well?"

"Yes, very."

"And yourself? Is that stomach trouble still bothering you? I am sure it is not, you look glowing, and — what is it?"

"I believe myself to be in good health." She smiled at him, unable to do anything else. But she wished to speak with her husband at length on other topics before she told him her most important present news.

"You believe yourself in good health?" Darcy peered at her. "Are you still having trouble with food?"

"I am in excellent health," Elizabeth replied, now confidently. "And you? You saw a great many people who I know well — how was Mr. Bingley, and—"

"Does not Jane give you far better knowledge of him than I could possibly offer in her correspondence?" Darcy replied with a friendly smile.

Elizabeth laughed.

Darcy looked at her in an intent, devouring way. His deep eyes. She flushed. What could he mean by looking at her in that way?

"Which reminds me," Darcy said. "You have a veritable mountain of letters. Not to mention the many drawings from your cousins, a fine shawl that is a belated Christmas present from Miss Bennet, several books from Mr. Bennet, and a variety of odds and ends. They are all in the carriage though — so you must await the pleasure of shifting through them till tomorrow — I told John not to hurry."

" You were in a hurry."

Darcy twisted his wedding ring round his finger. He said in a low voice, "I was eager to see you. I missed you."

It was all Elizabeth could do to keep from squeaking like a small mouse.

His eyes now met hers.

She moistened her lips, wanting to kiss him.

Darcy then looked down at himself. "Jove, I ought to change. I did not mean to run into you in this state of undress."

"I do not mind." Elizabeth blushed again, but she boldly looked him up and down.

Darcy's expression was caught between embarrassment and wonder. His smile made him look beautiful.

"We must talk," he said again. "At length. I — I do not find it so easy to talk as I ought. But I must explain myself. Better than I could in that letter. And I must apologize—"

"I loved the letter!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

Darcy suddenly refused to meet her eyes. "I was still in the grip of anger and disappointment when I sat down to write it. I believe there are passages in it that would be best forgotten and erased."

"No, no. Not at all. The letter began in anger, but by the end you were the soul of grace. You need not be ashamed of the letter, not in any part. Besides," Elizabeth felt very shy, and yet very safe. She had never felt this way before. "Thank you. Thank you for speaking with Mr. Bingley, and for—"

"I beg you, Elizabeth, do not thank me for that. I corrected a mistake I had made. I do not want — I wish you had not heard of it."

"Why?"

"I — I do not wish you to think better of me for that cause."

"No?" Elizabeth could not help smiling.

"I did not speak to my friend in hope of gaining your approval. My character demanded it." Darcy then glanced down, and noted once more his shirtsleeves, dirty pants, and disordered appearance. He bowed. "I should finish my ablutions, and greet my sister, and then we shall talk."

"I look forward to your conversation ," Elizabeth replied instantly.

Darcy looked at her with an intense, searching gaze.

She looked down, blushing.

Elizabeth couldn't keep a smile from playing around her lips as she watched Mr. Darcy hurry out of the stable, and into the sunny cold of an early February day. He shivered and jogged over to a servant's entrance and let himself into the great house.

Well, so much for her plans to call on the neighbors.

This was better by far, and she had no doubt that none of them would hold a delay, which they could know nothing about, in giving them the courtesy against her.

Deciding that it was best to give him time enough to dress to his own satisfaction before returning, Elizabeth found the kittens that lived in the hayloft, and spent five minutes petting them, letting them crawl over her, and offering her hand as practice for the future murder of mice.

Mostly she tried to calm her fluttered nerves.

As soon as Elizabeth returned to the house, a maid excitedly informed her that the master had returned, and that he would be in the drawing room in a few minutes.

Elizabeth saw the back of her husband stepping through the door as she went to the entrance.

She had the chance to see Georgiana hurl herself at Darcy with a glee filled shriek. "I missed you! I missed you!"

Then seeing Elizabeth in the door, Georgiana pulled her brother towards her, and said, "Lizzy, Lizzy — see he is back. I told you that it would not be very long."

That statement gave Darcy a visible start of discomfort.

"I am very glad to be back," he said.

"You must hear Lizzy play — her technique has greatly improved." Georgiana said, "You must hear the duets we have practiced. We both have improved greatly."

Darcy looked at them both with fond pride.

Their eyes caught; he was happy.

Something in her stomach, a twisting, kittens leaping and playing around, a lightness. It was a joyous ease, a warmth, and a sense of rightness.

He was her husband. He was happy to see her, and she was happy to see him.

"I assure you," Elizabeth replied warmly, "that the improvement is chiefly on my part, and not your sister's — I had far more space in which to improve."

"I have always thought that you are perfect when you play."

"You have said as much before," Elizabeth replied.

"Because it is true."

Elizabeth believed him, that he said what he really felt. She flushed and could not meet his eyes. "Saying I am already perfect is no way to motivate me to improve yet further," Elizabeth replied.

"You have no need to improve."

"We all have an opportunity to become better," Elizabeth replied. "In judgement, in skill, in wisdom. I do not wish to stay the same."

"And that is why you have no need to improve." Darcy grinned at her.

"A sense of my own imperfection is proof I am already perfect?"

"The only meaning that sentence could convey," he replied, his eyes twinkling.

"And what about you ?"

"I, on the other hand, have needed to improve extensively."

"I would not dare disagree on that point, but merely when you say that you are the only one who has needed to improve."

"Enough conversation." Georgiana stamped her foot. "You can praise Lizzy with these unintelligible sentences for hours without end after we've played." Then Georgiana stretched her fingers, sat on the bench, settled the sheet music in place, and patted the spot beside her. "Sit."

Mr. Darcy leaned against the piano as the two began to play.

His legs were so long. Elizabeth was very aware of him as the two girls began to sing. His fine green coat, his newly trimmed and brushed hair, the finely shaved skin of his cheeks, his strong nose. The eyes with which he stared at her, longingly.

Her fingers stumbled. She could not even properly play the beginning of the piece with Georgiana — a bit they'd done enough times together that she ought to have managed it in her sleep. And likely she would have managed it if asleep , but she was wholly awake, thrumming with sensation.

Georgiana elbowed her. "Lizzy!" There was something that reminded her of Lydia's whine in the girl's voice. "Pay attention."

"Oh, believe me, I am," she replied with a flushed laugh.

Darcy started up straighter, and that half confused expression returned to his face.

This time Elizabeth made a determined effort to keep her attention upon the piano for Georgiana's sake. Her new sister was proud of how she had learned to play with her help, and she wished to display Elizabeth. This time Elizabeth managed a plodding but correct rhythm, almost as though she played to a pendulum. She kept her eyes directly on the sheet music, only making small mistakes when Darcy shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

Georgiana frowned when they finished the Italian song. "Lizzy is usually much better than this."

"Are you, Elizabeth?" Darcy's voice caressed her. "Whatever might make the difference. Are you distracted?"

"You pay too close attention."

"I intend to always pay very close attention to you."

Elizabeth laughed. "And so, I was distracted." She saw Georgiana's pout at having to listen to them flirt, and said, "Once more. Let us try again."

This time Elizabeth relaxed, and after their song was done Darcy clapped appreciatively, and Georgiana at once threw them into one of the other pieces they had practiced so insistently. And then yet another.

The clear look of appreciation that Darcy sent her, whether she mangled the notes or sang a quarter octave off tune or not, lifted her spirits, and she found herself making fewer mistakes in her happiness. Slowly she became lost in the music, and in her awareness of his presence, the breaths he took, the smiles that crossed his face, the way that his free hand floated up and down, matching the rhythm.

Georgiana seemed to let her lead the music, and covered with flourishes any mistakes Elizabeth made, and the younger girl kept the beat always correct.

"Ha!" Georgiana exclaimed when they finished, as Darcy looked at Elizabeth with an expression that made her melt. "You've never played so well, Lizzy."

"Have I satisfied your aim to impress?" Elizabeth grinned at her.

"Oh, wholly," Georgiana replied.

"Then I shall end this interlude on such a triumph."

"Lizzy?" Darcy asked. "Do you prefer that to Elizabeth?"

The low way his voice said Elizabeth. It sounded as though he had rolled her name over in his mind so many thousands of times.

Elizabeth shivered. "I like Elizabeth very much when you say it."

Georgiana looked between the two of them. The girl returned to the piano and sat down, with her fingers at once working on a soft piece of chamber music. Without missing a note she said, "Go talk, talk. I will just play to entertain myself."

There was something charged in the atmosphere, and Elizabeth hardly understood it… or maybe she understood it very well. She rather suspected that if Georgiana was not in the room, they would have immediately begun to desperately kiss each other.

Always before, even when he came to her in bed, she had kept a barrier between herself and Darcy. A thing in her head always reminded her that she must dislike him, at least a little, and not fail to think a little ill of him.

She felt nothing but a coiled need for him, deep in her stomach. Every time their eyes met, that need became stronger.

She was sure Darcy felt the same.

No mystery! He had listened to her. He had explained himself. He had corrected his error with Bingley and Jane. He had even called upon her aunt and uncle.

Elizabeth could not continue to look directly at him. "I am very grateful that you called on my aunt and uncle."

"Excellent people," Darcy replied. His eyes when she met them spoke about an entirely different topic than his words. "I robbed myself when I hesitated. Very genteel. I had been prejudiced against them, because they were in trade, and now I have learned that prejudice was simply another one of my many flaws."

"I think I have seldom felt so light as when I read as an addendum to Jane's letter that you had called."

"Mr. Gardiner is… his conversation is worth pursuing. I would have called again to show them respect, but I dined with them chiefly because I enjoyed it."

"You dined with my aunt and uncle?" Elizabeth looked at him with a new delight. "I had not yet known that."

"I imagine that is one of the pieces of news contained in that mountain of letters with the carriage — were you yet informed that we formed a plan for them to visit for six weeks over the summer?"

"What?"

There was a smile in Darcy's face that suggested that he was delighted that he had the chance to give Elizabeth this information himself.

"I had heard that Jane and Bingley were to stay a long time this summer, but not this plan."

"The plan is for all of us to come north together in a big caravan after the season ends," Darcy replied. "I believe Bingley means to stay for two months, but your uncle said that he did not think his business would allow him to extend it past six weeks, and maybe even only to four."

Elizabeth grinned at him with open pleasure.

Darcy took her hand. "I do worry," he said smiling, "that you may not see so much of your uncle as you hope. I mentioned to him how well stocked the river was with trout, and…"

Darcy shrugged in a way that made Elizabeth laugh.

He slowly rubbed his fingers over her hand, making little tingling nervous jolts travel up her arm.

"Does it make you happy?" he asked. "That is all I really want."

She nodded.

"I am glad."

"Oh, you cruel man," Elizabeth replied. "It is wholly impossible to think of you as odious anymore."

Darcy laughed at that. "Did you wish to do so?"

"Your appearance was too fine for me to defend myself in any other way," Elizabeth replied.

"Perhaps." He swallowed, suddenly serious. "You must do as you wish, but I promise to become someone you do not need to defend yourself from."

She nodded. "I trust you."

She did.

Oh, he had said that she was not handsome enough to tempt him the first time they met, and that had been odious and rude. But…

The fact that she had proven to be without question more than tempting to this gentleman made that memory rather more in the nature of a reminder of victory than a reason to despise him.

And without those things telling her to keep herself on edge near him, telling her to not look at him as though he were the most beautiful man in the world… Well, he was in plain truth the most beautiful.

Georgiana finished her piece, and she looked at them. Darcy reluctantly started to pull his hand away from her, but Elizabeth gripped his hand tighter.

With her other hand she waved to Georgiana to come over.

"Well, Brother?" she asked.

"Very well played. But let us sit and talk, how have you two gotten on while I was gone?"

"Oh, very well!" Georgiana started chattering, "We walk round and round in giant circles every day. It is not as fast as riding, but Lizzy hates to be on horseback."

"I am no horsewoman."

"You might learn," Darcy said with a smile. "I would be happy to teach you."

"But you cannot read and ride safely at the same time, while it is easy to walk and read," Elizabeth replied with a laugh.

"You can," Georgiana disagreed. "Lady Cecelia from my school rode about everywhere on her pony while reading, you just need to let the horse pick the path, and keep a good seat, I dare say it is safer, since the horse will not wander into a person, off a cliff, or step into the way of a careening carriage during the best scene of the novel."

"No, I did not wish to have my excuse disproven." Elizabeth laughed.

"You do not have to," Darcy said, with that enigmatic, deep smile. "But I confess, I would like to teach you."

Elizabeth blushed again. "I'd like to be taught by you."

Darcy then stilled, in a manner that made her think he was suddenly uncomfortable. He took a slow breath. "But later, first we must decide on something—" He looked at Georgiana. "I believe you know that Mr. Bingley has invited all of us to stay at Netherfield for when he marries Elizabeth's sister."

Georgiana nodded slowly, seeing that she was the person principally being addressed. "I would like to meet Lizzy's sisters. And all her family."

Darcy smiled. "I wish you to meet them as well."

Georgiana blushed and looked down. "Lizzy? Will your family like me? There are so many of them. Five sisters! And—"

"Do not worry about that ." Elizabeth laughed.

"Oh, then yes, of course I want to go… you don't think I would embarrass you?" The young woman's eyes darted between Elizabeth's and Darcy's.

"No," Darcy said flatly.

He started gripping Elizabeth's hand tightly.

Elizabeth smoothed out the back of his knuckles with her other hand, and he let out a long sigh. "Mr. Wickham is enrolled in a militia regiment that is presently stationed in Meryton. While we would try to keep your paths from crossing, I believe it likely you would see him. Possibly he would try to force a meeting."

Georgiana's breath whooshed out. "You think I would be easy prey for him once again?"

"Do you think you would be?"

"No!" Georgiana frowned… and then she said more slowly, "I do not think so."

"I would have thought so as well, except your choice to keep that portrait of Mr. Wickham deeply concerned me."

"Ah." Georgiana flushed. She looked rather embarrassed.

"And when you further said that you still loved him."

Darcy stared at his sister, and Elizabeth did not at all think it was at all her place to interfere with this conversation. Except that she wished to support them both, as she cared for both of them deeply.

"I… did I not say that I did know that he was unworthy?"

A raised eyebrow was the reply.

Despite the way that Darcy looked — quite fierce — Elizabeth could tell from the way that the hand she still kept holding felt that he was now perfectly calm.

Georgiana rubbed her face. "I can say nothing that would convince you. Or that should. But I do not think I care about him at all anymore. I… it was as though I never had a chance to be sad, to be really sad about what I learned of Mr. Wickham. I was supposed to just know better. But even though I knew… And then… When I talked with Lizzy about him, and we talked about him a great deal, I had a chance to sob, and to think. He just…" Georgiana shrugged. "I do not think I still feel that way."

Darcy smiled at Georgiana. He squeezed Elizabeth's hand. "Lizzy is quite capable of helping us to see things differently through her conversation."

That made Elizabeth blush deep red and cough, even though Darcy surely did not have any double meaning in mind.

"I don't want to see him again," Georgiana said suddenly. "I'd especially be scared if he somehow had a chance to speak to me alone. I do not like to think of him. The more I remember, the more I get a sick feeling in my stomach, about how nearly my life ended up in an irretrievable disaster. It would have been a disaster if I married him, and then I'd never have any choice about anything important again."

Darcy looked a little haunted as he nodded at her. "I'd have still protected you, if I'd had a way."

"You probably shouldn't take me," Georgiana said very sadly. "There isn't anything I could say which would prove that I won't become his fool again. Words don't work that way. Maybe during the season, we could invite Lizzy's family to London? Or visit them after Wickham's regiment leaves?"

"What is your preference?" Darcy said.

"But—"

"If you were choosing, solely on the grounds of your own preference, where you knew I would let you do what you asked me to. Would you wish to come to Netherfield with us?"

Georgiana sat and thought about that for a long time. Then she slowly said, "I truly do not want to see Mr. Wickham again. But I do want to meet Lizzy's sisters, especially Jane, and also… I wouldn't want to not go only because I was scared of Mr. Wickham. That would be terrible, to always live my life with that sort of fear. I want to be brave."

"In that case we shall all go."

"We will?" Georgiana exclaimed, her voice almost a squeak.

"We will," Darcy confirmed in a solemn voice. "But I will keep a very close eye on you, and hire a man to stare at Wickham, no matter where he goes."

Georgiana suddenly leapt up and embraced her brother. "I am so happy you trust me in this!"

He smiled back at her.

And Elizabeth thought he had never looked more handsome .