But something had not felt… right. After years of pining for George, knowing—or thinking I knew—what my heart wanted most, all I could say now was… it was not as satisfying as I had hoped.
“Lizzy? There you are!”
I jerked guiltily upright as Jane entered, her keen gaze missing no detail from my flushed cheeks to the neglected dough on the board. Briskly, she crossed the warm kitchen, laying one slender hand gently atop mine, clenching the worn pine surface. “Let Martha finish here. I have been searching you out above this half hour at least. I thought you disappeared in the hills again.”
I attempted a dismissive laugh, avoiding her eyes. “Nonsense! I am trying to make myself useful. That was the condition of our invitation, if you recall.”
“Yes, I do. And Martha has just arrived to tend to the cooking, as she does every day, so why are you hiding in the kitchen?
Avoidance was impossible with one who read my heart as her own. I straightened slowly, brushing loosened curls wearily back off heated cheeks. “What are you really asking, Jane?”
Jane bit her lips together and sighed, her eyes darting to the window. Wordlessly, she drew me toward the back stair where none would chance overhearing us. “You have been out of sorts all day, Lizzy. Is it that letter from Uncle?”
I glanced up at her, then dropped my eyes and shook my head.
“You are going to force me to ask, then?” Jane’s voice was soft, and she tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Very well, then. I saw you in the garden with George.”
I groaned. “Don’t you have anything to do but stare out the window? First, you see Fitzwilliam calling, then George!”
She lifted a shoulder. “He came galloping up at such a pace, I think Mrs. Westing even heard him from her bedroom. I ran to the window to see if it was an express rider from Uncle. But when I saw him…”
I rolled my neck, gazing at the top of the staircase. “Kissing me?”
“Yes, that. Has he… did he declare himself?”
“Not as such.”
Jane shook her head. I suppose her poor, pure heart could not fathom a man passionate enough to kiss a girl without either intending to propose or intending to ruin her. “But why would he do such a thing?”
I laughed. “Why? Because he is George! He doesn’t know what he is about half the time until he finds himself halfway down the road.”
“And today, you were sitting in his path?”
“I like to think I was a planned detour, at least. Come, Jane, I just reappeared in the man’s life after seven years. Surely, he has made other plans, perhaps even…” My brow crumpled. “Other attachments. The way he was talking today, I…”
“Lizzy, is it possible that you might have misjudged him? Do you not see how vulnerable you would be to any sentiment he expresses, even if he himself cannot be sure of it?” As I remained wordless, she ventured delicately nearer. “Unless… you find your feelings have already begun to shift?”
I snapped a sharp glance upward. “What do you mean?”
Jane hesitated, then asked baldly, “Did George... behave improperly this morning? I saw him take your hands, then suddenly disappear down the lane with you...”
I sucked in a swift breath. Of course, Jane saw it all, and whatever she did not see, she could guess easily enough. My jittery laugh sounded pathetic even to me. “Oh, Jane! I thought his kiss was all I’d ever hoped for. But feelings that were once so vivid seem oddly faded and… confused.” My cheek pressed into her shoulder shamefully. “Kissing George should have felt wonderful. I should have begged him to stay, to hold me in his arms until evening. Instead, I… I scolded him and sent him home. Am I fickle, Jane? Or a shrew?”
Jane’s gentle arms came round me, bless her eternally steadfast heart. “Oh, Lizzy. I do not believe you fickle or unjustified. It has been a long time, and things are not as they once were. George may be just learning that, too, and I daresay he has some matters to settle in his heart. Perhaps you will even find that your own heart lies elsewhere.”
I straightened slowly. How deftly Jane untangled my prickly emotions! Fresh resolve budded as I took a deep breath. “Fitzwilliam warned me against reckless choices too often. Perhaps schooling sentiment more carefully holds greater merit than I credited once.”
Slim comfort yet, but baby steps turned the obedient heart, not passionate abandon—however alluring. Arms around each other, we descended the stairs together, and she said no more on the matter.
Twenty-Three
Darcy
Mygeldingseemedtoshare my restless energy this morning, hooves peppering the ground as I guided him toward Farthingdale’s back lane. A dazzling morning sun failed to penetrate the restless fog shrouding my mood despite having turned myself and my horse out to look our very best. I glanced down at my new hunt coat, cut a little broader for my shoulders than the last one. I’d donned a waistcoat to match—one I hoped Elizabeth would like. She had always admired green, and blast if I would not do everything in my power to attract her eye.
Did I even have a prayer of turning her head? She had fancied George for too long, perhaps. A child of thirteen may set her heart on whichever rascal she chooses, and it may come to nothing. But a woman such as Elizabeth had become… why, she deserved somewhere better to place her hopes because, quite frankly, George was not good enough for her.
Not that I felt myself to be the better choice! But at least I understood constancy and devotion, just as well as I did duty. She deserved a man who could match her intellect and character, and if all I achieved today was to show her that there were other men in the world… men worthy of her… well, hang it all, I would do my duty by her, even if that meant making her fall for me.
