“Oh, perhaps the middle of the afternoon, but I believe I stayed above two hours, all together.” I studied him, bewildered by his odd probing. “Fitzwilliam mentioned obligations to some important party prevented you from attending us. Though Wellington provided company in your absence.”
George looked swiftly away with a muttered oath. Alarm spiked through me.
“George, what is amiss? You appear quite out of countenance all at once.”
“Do I?” He rearranged his features swiftly back to nonchalance. “Forgive me. I merely regret having missed you. But I suppose...” Was that relief softening his taut mouth? “Well, no matter.”
He captured my hand, former warmth suffusing his vivid gaze once more as he smiled. “I cannot linger today, but you must come again soon, Lizzy Bennet. Promise me?” He pressed a swift kiss to my knuckles that left me flushed and tongue-tied.
I managed a credible curtsy despite trembling limbs as he vaulted back atop his mount. “I shall hold you to that, George Darcy. It seems we have much to rediscover after too long apart.”
His answering grin blazed bright as summer itself. “Indeed, we do! Until next we meet, m’dear!”
I watched him canter briskly down the lane, butterflies still fluttering wildly in my chest. However would I endure their absence now that both brothers had reentered my life so unexpectedly? The years ahead looked unaccountably brighter, with my two stalwart champions returning to stand shield and sword beside me once more. What did it matter why George hesitated over his mysterious hopes? Likely some triviality blown out of proportion as ever. Laughing softly, I turned my steps back toward the house, George’s irrepressible smile warming me to the core.
One day soon, I would tell him that I loved him.
Fifteen
Darcy
“Ifearthenumbersoffer little encouragement for the course you propose, Mr. Darcy.”
I dropped the most recent ledger onto my desk with an audible thump. “I cannot limit the work week without cutting into the pay they say they cannot do without, and I cannot increase wages without stirring violence elsewhere or putting the mill’s very survival at risk.”
Across from me, my steward gathered the scattered ledgers and reports, peering at me over the top of his spectacles. “As you have observed before, there are issues with whichever course you choose.”
I grimaced, leaning back in my chair to knead tired eyes. We had spent the better part of an hour dissecting profit margins, production targets, payroll—every detail of the Pemberley Mill operations. And still, a solution eluded me.
“Confound it all, there must be a way forward that serves all interests fairly, Daniels! The men deserve decent conditions and wages that provide for their families.”
Daniels gave a noncommittal murmur, stacking his burden neatly atop a cabinet. “An admirable aim, to be sure. Yet, as you say, implementing reform risks sowing deeper unrest.” He hesitated, then added delicately, “And without careful balance, declining profits may force cutting jobs further.”
My jaw tightened. The workers’ petition still lay squarely before me, the X’s marked by the laborers offering nothing but reproach for my indecision. Daniels spoke the truth—reforms cost dearly. However, allowing unjust conditions also came at a price. I stared sightlessly at the darkening window. If only resolution to industrial quandaries proved as straightforward as a farmer plowing even furrows!
The door crashing open made both Daniels and I start violently. Before I could bark a reprimand, an all-too-familiar voice exclaimed, “Dash it all, Fitzwilliam, there you lurk! Trouble enough tracking you to earth. I should bloody well have known you would be here, darkening that cursed desk all day.”
I closed my eyes briefly. “Forgive the intrusion, Daniels. We shall resume this tomorrow.” With a bob of acquiescence, my steward hastily gathered his remaining ledgers and disappeared. I turned a glacial stare on my thoughtless brother. “Well? This had better be nothing less than a fire in the east wing.”
George waved away my sarcasm, throwing himself into the vacant chair. “Never mind that. I suppose you think yourself devilish cunning! But you did not fool me yesterday.”
I raised one sardonic brow. “I beg your pardon?”
He braced both hands on my desk, eyes stormy. “Do not play innocent! Did you truly think I would not learn of Miss Elizabeth’s visit?” At my carefully neutral look, he burst out, “Dash it, man! Hiding her away from Lucilla’s party was beyond the pale!”
Comprehension struck with the force of lightning. He had seen Elizabeth. Or worse, loose-lipped servants had evidently carried tales. I regarded George’s indignant countenance resignedly. No help for it now, but press through and hope to limit damages.
“Where did you learn of this?” I asked mildly. I could not believe any of Pemberley’s servants would gossip to anyone outside the household, but a judicious word in the butler’s and housekeeper’s ears could forestall a disaster.
“From Lizzy herself! I went to see her this morning at Farthingdale.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That was… ill-judged of you.”
“Ill-judged! She was like a sister to us! Or have you already forgotten?”
“Calm yourself, George. The situation called for discretion regarding certain guests. Miss Elizabeth understands.”
“The devil she does!” He surged from his chair to pace my study, his features thunderous. “Confound your stuffy secrecy! We ought to welcome Lizzy openly as family, not skulk about concealing her!”
