“If you will excuse me,” Elizabeth remained standing after Bingley entered. “I have some work to do. Jane, I shall send your maid in to sit with you.”
To stall for a little time, Jane prepared a cup of tea for him, and sat back down, nervously smoothing her skirts.
“Miss Bennet, I do not know if you have had a chance to think about my request. You do not really know me, and I thought I might tell you more about myself before you give me your answer.” He coughed to clear his throat and took a sip of tea. “I will be forthright. My first marriage was not a happy one, but I do not seek a wife merely to mother my daughter. I still hold out hope of making a love match.” He took another sip and set down the cup.
“This time I intend to get to know the lady who interests me.” He nervously rubbed his palms on his britches, but then he straightened his back and articulated his next words in a more determined manner. “It will take time and will be slow proceeding, as I will not make another mistake and inadvertently place avicious woman over my dear Isabelle.” Asking his question, he turned to face Jane, meeting her eyes. “Knowing all this, I ask again, may I call on you?”
Jane searched his face in an attempt to discern truth or hidden agenda. She searched her heart seeking courage to take this first step at reclaiming her life.
At length, she offered him a serene smile, “You may, sir. I look forward to getting to know you.”
“Capital!” He bounced on his seat.
Jane smiled back and thought to herself,Perhaps… maybe… Mr Bingley will turn out to be as good a man as he appears.
Chapter 31
Determined to be as helpful as possible, Elizabeth collected information on each estate and compiled a report for Darcy to send to his steward in training. That completed she went to spend time with her son, dressing him warmly for the outside and letting the guards know she would be taking him out to the back gardens.
Walking along the paths she pointed out flowers and plants, showed him the clouds in the sky and spoke of Darcy to him.
“You will not understand my words, little one, so it shall be our little secret. As much as I admired and respected your father, we had so little time together.” Alex, watching her mouth, grabbed at her lips. She kissed his hand but gently pulled it away.
“Darcy is… different. I have never felt this way about any other man of my acquaintance. He is truly an admirable man, but he is also intense. He can hold himself so still and say nothing, but not from being a dullard. No, there are depths to him, which are quite frankly intimidating. He is nothing like my uncle or Bingley, both of whom are easy-going men. Darcy is the dark night sky, with a multitude of stars twinkling in and out of sight. Fathomless, yet so intensely beautiful it is impossible to look away.
“What am I saying? Your mama is a silly goose going on in such a way.” Elizabeth nudged her nose into Alex’s belly, and shelaughed herself out of her disquietude to the delightful sounds of Alex’s laugh.
“Lizzy.” Jane called to her from the door. “Mr Darcy has called.”
Turning towards the house, Elizabeth saw Darcy exit and say something to Jane. Then he descended into the garden and took quick steps in her direction.
With a bow he apologised for imposing.
“Not at all, Mr Darcy. We are happy to see you. Shall you mind if we continue our walk?”
He acceded to her request and took his place by her side. Alex grinned up at him and with a questioning look at her, he gathered Alex into his own arms.
“I wrote to my man at Pemberley and sent it by private messenger, we should receive his response swiftly.”
“Thank you, sir, you are very diligent with your responsibilities, and I greatly appreciate it. However,” she darted a look up to his face to see him watching her. She smiled, “I find when we are together our conversations take a most serious turn. I am adamant it shall not happen this time.”
“What shall we discuss?”
“What think you of books, sir?”
“Books. I could never discuss books on such a fine day as this. We might discuss plays and our visits to the theatre?”
“It has been some time since I attended a play. Shall we compare our favourite composers?”
“That might be a better conversation to be had with my sister.”
Elizabeth tapped one finger on her chin, contemplating the complex man beside her. “Perhaps,” she tilted her head, “You would not mind sharing how you have such an easy touch with infants and small children?
“In a word—Georgiana. My mother never recovered from the birth and my father grew distant after her loss not two years later.” He went on to share how his life was filled spending time with Georgiana whenever he was home from school.
“Even when she fell ill now and then, it was I who comforted her. Her nurse read aloud the letters I wrote every week, as soonas she could comprehend them. I was father to Georgiana even before my father left this world.”
Their steps crunched on the garden path, mixing with the soft twittering of birds in the surrounding trees and bushes.
