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Mr. Darcy.
The man he loved.
He was there, smiling in much the same way he had done with Elliot on their walks through Rosings. That smile… Elliot had not fully appreciated it at the time. He had been too awkward, too confused by his own feelings. But he did now, standing there for several minutes before the picture, in earnest and painful contemplation.
By the time they left to make their way back down the stairs and to the main entrance, Elliot couldn’t help but reflect on everything he now knew of Darcy. The treatment he gave to his omega sister, the praise his very intelligent servant had bestowed on him, his behaviour to his tenants, the many people whose happiness were in his guardianship. It all came together to give a picture of a man who was more complicated than Elliot had even begun to understand.
Pride.
That was he.
And prejudice.
That was Elliot.
And because of both of those things neither had been able to find their way through to the other, even though they were meant to!
Elliot’s heart was unpleasantly heavy as the housekeeper turned them over to the gardener, Mr. Cartwright, with a myriad of good wishes for their health. She was a lovely woman, and Elliot would have enjoyed working with her. Mr. Cartwright too was an interesting and friendly man. He began his lecture on the grounds the moment they left the main house and began to make their way over to the wooded hills. This was the part that Elliot had most looked forward too but could now gather no enthusiasm for.
He missed Darcy.
That was a fact.
He longed to see him again.
There was no escaping that.
And perhaps there was something in destiny after all, because on those thoughts, and as they turned the corner towards the woodland, the owner of Pemberley appeared.
Mr. Darcy himself.
Apologies and Indiscretions
Forty-Five
Darcy froze.
He was sure that he gasped.
His heart seemed to stop and start again in the space of a moment.
Elliot…
They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance, that it was impossible for Darcy to avoid him, not that he would ever want to, because it was Elliot Bennet.
At last.
Their eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of both were overspread with the deepest blush. Darcy knew it, he could feel it, and his heart raced as he considered that Elliot felt it too and why exactly that might be.
Their connection.
That curious, strange, suspenseful connection.
It had always been there, and there was no escaping it now. It arched around them, and no one in their vicinity could mistake it for anything than what it was.
Darcy strode forward, eager to close the distance between them, and before he could think to do otherwise, he bowed to Elliot, took his hand, and placed a kiss upon it. “Mr. Bennet.”
There could be no higher compliment from an alpha to an omega in such a public setting, and both of the Gardiners were shocked by it. Darcy did not care. Elliot stood in front of him, and he had missed the other man so very much.
