Sir William beamed, clearly pleased to be the bearer of information. “Well, as you know, the election proceeded right after your, ah, unfortunate incident. With Sir Anthony Mortimer withdrawing his candidacy in disgrace, it created quite a stir among the voters. Many believed it would be a simple matter of the next most popular gentleman stepping in, but Mr Robinson—one of our less outspoken candidates—seized the opportunity. I believe rather that his modesty was what secured him the vote—everyone had enough of smooth talk, do you see.”
Darcy listened attentively, though he already knew most of this from the letters he had received during his convalescence. But letting Sir William have the pleasure of speaking was temporarily shifting the focus of the room to him rather than his more withdrawn daughter… and permitting Richard a chance to overhear every unguarded and whimsical word out of the lady’s mouth.
Sir William turned to Mr Bennet with a pleased look. “Mr Bennet, you must have been informed by now—Mr Robinson won by a narrow margin! And he has already made his announcements as our new Member of Parliament. Quite the upstanding gentleman, byall accounts. He has spoken fervently about integrity and transparency—rather a sharp contrast to his predecessor, if you catch my meaning.”
Mr Bennet, who had been leaning back in his chair with a knowing smile, responded with a dry chuckle. “Ah, yes, Mr Robinson. I believe he is keen to make his mark. Though I suspect we shall see just how long these lofty ideals endure once he is properly seated in Westminster.”
Lady Lucas, standing beside her husband, nodded in agreement. “Indeed, the whole affair was quite the spectacle. But it is a relief to know that the matter has been settled without further scandal.”
Darcy felt a weight lifting from his shoulders at the news, even if he had already known the result. Seeing the genuine relief on the faces around him—the knowledge that Meryton had weathered the storm and emerged relatively unscathed—was more comforting than he had expected. He caught Elizabeth’s eye as she watched the conversation unfold, her lips curving in a quiet smile. A sense of contentment, more grounded than any peace, welled up in him—along with a certain eagerness to focus his thoughts on the more immediate delights of impending matrimony.
The room fell into a comfortable buzz of conversation—largely without Darcy’s input. His gaze shifted occasionally from the woman who consumed his being to Richard, whose attention had not wavered from Charlotte Lucas. There was something different in his cousin’s demeanour, something Darcy had not seen before. Could it be… interest?
Surely not. Miss Lucas had been dealt a terrible injustice in being deemed “plain,” for she was no such thing. She only wanted good conversation, which Elizabeth was generously supplying, to make her eyes dance like a candelabra, and her cheeks flush like a dew-kissed rose. And there was nothing wrong with her features or her manner. Why did no one notice this lady? Perhaps the very fact of being overlooked for so many years had been enough to smother her charms and colour his first impression of her… but that impression, clearly, had been mistaken.
But still…Richard?A man who had turned down every eligible lady his mother had suggested due to her small fortune? Perhaps there was nothing more than intrigue there, but Darcy doubted it very much.
As he pondered his cousin’s newfound fascination, the door to the drawing room opened again, and without even waiting for Mr Hill to introduce him, Mr Collins made his anticipated entrance, his gait as self-important as ever. He glanced around the room, his expression a mix of bewilderment at the large party gathered and smug satisfaction thatconversation ceased when he entered… until his eyes landed on Darcy. At that moment, he visibly shuddered, his face contorting into an awkward grimace.
“Mr Bennet,” Collins began, his voice hushed but loud enough to be heard by all, “how can you possibly countenance your daughter marrying such a man?”
Darcy, taken aback by the sheer nerve of the man, straightened in his chair. He was prepared to defend himself against whatever absurdities Mr Collins might spout—no doubt a result of Lady Catherine’s influence. He opened his mouth to speak, but Collins, with all the grace of a bumbling goose, hurried on.
“My esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, has expressed her utmost disappointment,” Collins declared, his chest puffed up like a pigeon. “She feels that Mr Darcy has let down his family legacy most grievously. Indeed, she has found a more suitable suitor for her daughter, thus sparing Miss de Bourgh the fate of being shackled to a dying man.”
Darcy’s lips curled into a wry smile. “Then I congratulate Lady Catherine on her discretion. Clearly, she knows what is best for her family.”
Mr Bennet, standing beside him, chortled quietly, his shoulders shaking with restrained amusement. “Alas,” he confessed, “it does seem that I am in the great lady’s debt. I shall take her advice under the most serious consideration.”
Elizabeth, across the room, covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter.
Collins, oblivious to the mockery, continued with an air of self-importance. “Lady Catherine, ever so concerned about her family’s reputation, remarked upon Mr Darcy’s apparent frailty and… lingering sickness. She doubts very much that he shall be able to perform his duties, particularly the matter of producing an heir.”
At this, Darcy couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I suppose, then, that Lady Catherine has nothing more to fear from me.”
Collins blinked, clearly taken aback by Darcy’s calm demeanour. He seemed at a loss, looking between Mr Bennet and Darcy, searching for some support.
Mr Bennet, still amused, took pity on the man. “Well, Mr Collins, it seems you and Lady Catherine are both quite mistaken. But I thank you for your concern about my daughter’s future. I assure you, we are all quite content with her choice.”
Collins, flustered and defeated, stammered a quick greeting to his betrothed, who was still seated beside the fire, and hastily retreated from the room, his self-importance crumbling with every step.
As the door closed behind him, Darcy relaxed back into his chair, a grin tugging at his lips. As a faint twinge of pain pulsed through his head, Darcy instinctively turned his gaze to Elizabeth. The discomfort eased almost immediately, replaced by a sense of calm as he watched her, her cheeks flushing a soft pink each time their eyes met. In her look, all the world made sense.
Epilogue
The late summer suncast a warm, golden glow over Pemberley’s gardens, where a small clutch of friends and family had gathered to revel in the last of the warm rays for the season. Elizabeth, seated on a blanket spread beneath the shade of a broad oak tree, watched with amusement as Georgiana Darcy tried—and failed—to conceal her nervous excitement about her upcoming journey to London for her come-out ceremony.
“I cannot imagine what all the fuss is about,” Elizabeth teased lightly, her smile broadening as Georgiana glanced over with a look of mild horror. “Surely you do not mean to tell me you are nervous, Georgiana? You, who have faced far worse challenges, such as… learning to dance with Richard?”
Richard Fitzwilliam, who was lounging nearby with his wife, Charlotte, chuckled. “Learning to dance with me was indeed a trial,” he quipped, taking a sip of his lemonade. “But I dare say she came through it splendidly. And I would wager she will do the same at her come out.”
Georgiana blushed, casting a shy smile in her brother’s direction. Darcy, who was seated beside Elizabeth, gave his sister an encouraging nod. “You have nothing to fear, Georgiana. You will be the toast of the season, I am certain of it.”
Bingley, sitting across from them with Jane, grinned. “Quite right. And you will have all of us there to cheer you on.”
“Oh, that is very easy for you to say, Mr Bingley,” Georgiana retorted. “You are always easy in company, but I…”
Elizabeth rubbed a hand absently over her stomach and cast a wry grin at the man beside her. “A family characteristic, my dear. But, as you can see, your brother has overcome at least most of his reticence in company. Surely you will do likewise.”
