“Know what?”
Elizabeth shook her head.
“I was exceedingly surprised,” Mrs. Reynolds said after they’d both been silent for half a minute, “when I heard that Mr. Darcy was to marry.”
“I know,” Elizabeth sat back in the chair. “You must have a great deal of suspicion aboutme—” Elizabeth smiled disarmingly, “I donotask you to confirm that. But it isstrange. The whole tale is strange, and there are twists to it that I have only of late discovered. I of course do not apologize to you. I do not think I have anything to apologize about, and it is not myplace to explain myself to you—but I hope in time you will come to see…I hope in time it will be true that we are well matched. How do you know? Were you happy in your marriage?”
“If one does not know,” Mrs. Reynolds replied stiffly, “they should not marry.”
“That is simple to say, but—besides, it is not that I do notfeelas though I know. But how can one have confidence in that sensation? Oh, but I am saying more than I should. It is that Darcy always speaks of you as one who gives advice of great wisdom.Hewould not say so much, but I think he sees you as the closest to a mother that he has had since his own died. And you knew both of them—when did youknowthat the rot was in Mr. Wickham? That he would turn out exceedingly bad?”
Mrs. Reynolds smiled at her. “Perhaps you will do. The master is happy. I have never seen him so joyous.”
That brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face. Darcy had beenmostjoyous since they had arrived at Pemberley.
The older woman then shrugged. “I confess that while I had long since ceased to think well of him, I never expected to hear such a thing about Mr. Wickham. Not until the tale of the duel reached us.”
“Yes, yes. It was much like it for me—I walked into the house that Mr. Darcy had taken in Ramsgate, and inquired if he knew about my husband’s whereabouts, and then…it was a shock, and yet notsucha shock. Do you understand what I mean?”
“I do. And why did you remain?”
Elizabeth suspected that Mrs. Reynolds was particularly interested in this question. The question could even be construed as stepping across a boundary, if Elizabeth wished to see it in that way.
“I had no idea what to do next. But Mr. Darcy’s bandage needed changing, and that was a useful thing to do,” Elizabeth replied. “I always try to find something useful to do when unhappy.”
“Miss Darcy said as much. And that she wished to be like you in that way.”
“I worry for her exceedingly,” Elizabeth said.
“I do as well,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “She has been dear to all of us for so long.”
That evening when Elizabeth and Darcy retired to their chambers, leaving the drawing room early due to the ‘continuing fatigue from the road’, she kissed him as soon as they were through the door, and said, “I love you too. I do.”
He smiled at her warmly and kissed her softly. “I know.”
“You know!”
“Yes,” Darcy smiled. “I knew before you said.”
“How did you know?”
“Lizzy,” he said as he nuzzled her and kissed her neck. “You must think about it from the standpoint of philosophy. Let us pretend that I am Socrates, ‘And what does it mean to love’.”
Elizabeth giggled and held him tight against her. Her anxiety about caring so much, and her fear that the whole marriage would turn out to have been a simple mistake was dissolving. She kissed him back tightly, pressing her body against his. “And what, oh great philosopher, does it mean to love?”
“To enjoy looking at the other person, for them to be frequently in your thoughts, to be happy when they are happy, and to wish to be part of that happiness, to care for what they care for, simply because it is of importance to them—and divers other things.” And so saying that he picked her up and kissed her as she wrapped her legs around him.
“I see,” Elizabeth gasped. “Andthatis why you knew I loved you?”
“Whoa.” Darcy put her back down. He dropped himself heavily onto the sofa. “Let me rest for half a minute. I cannot quite manage to carry you for more than a few seconds yet.” He grinned at her, and his face was only inches from hers. That lovely, happy, boyish grin. “I am only a little surprised that it tookyouso little time to admit to yourself that you love me.”
Elizabeth laughed. But then she looked deeply into his eyes. “It terrifies me.”
“I know.” He said that in the same tone that he’d said that he knew that she loved him.
She could not resist the urge to stick out her tongue.
“But I do.”
