Elizabeth shrugged. “I met two ladies who called on Lady Matlock for tea, and she introduced me as the future Mrs Darcy. It was not so bad—at least, I do not think so, and I received no lectures on my comportment afterwards, so I could not have conducted myself too terribly. Or… perhaps Lady Matlock did not know where to begin correcting me!”
“Lizzy, do be serious. You are not worried at all?”
Elizabeth frowned in thought. “No. He is worth it, Jane—worth anything I have to learn or do or become, and I know he feels the same way about me. He is a different man than when first we met, but I have changed, too, and both of us for the better. My one regret—and I can do nothing about it—is… Papa.” She stopped there, her throat swelling the way it always did, and her breath reduced to a mere whimper. “I wish he could be there.”
Jane sniffed and blinked away her own rush of feeling to grasp Elizabeth’s hand. “But he would be so happy for us, and you especially. I comfort myself with that.”
“Yes.” Elizabeth quelled her sadness with a fresh breath of air and found her smile again. “William got his second letter back from Uncle Gardiner. He told me about it today. Everyone back home sends their congratulations and blessings, and though William has not confessed it to me, between him and our uncle, there is some surprise in store.”
“Such as?”
“Oh… I dare not say too much, but I suspect there is some plan for Mama and Kitty and Lydia…”
Jane’s fingers tightened fiercely around Elizabeth’s wrist. “To come here? When? Oh, Lizzy, you are not teasing me!”
“Of course, I am teasing you, but not without cause. I know that look in William’s eye, and there was some reason he would not let me read the last page of Uncle’s letter. He acted as though he was being very clever, but he did a terrible job of denying it when I guessed at what he was hiding.”
“But how can you be sure? Oh, Lizzy, you would not say such a thing unless you were sure it was true! Did you manage to get a confession from him?”
Elizabeth grinned slyly. “A woman ought to be intimately acquainted with the weaknesses of her future spouse. I trust you are making a study of your Charles? As for William—one simple trick, and I have him begging for mercy.”
Jane’s mouth rounded in laughter. “Lizzy! Whatever have you done to poor Mr Darcy?”
“Oh, nothing he did not enjoy at least as much as I did. Did you know that our esteemed and vaunted Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy is ticklish?”
“Idonotunderstand!”Darcy fumed, pacing the floor in the earl’s study. “Still ‘under investigation’? What possible reason can there be for delay? They have had nearly four months!”
“But you said yourself there was no body recovered,” Reginald answered. “There are legalities, confirmations required—one does not issue a death certificate unless the man truly is dead.”
“The general confirmed it himself. What greater assurance do they need?”
The earl’s expression clouded. “I should like as much assurance as they can give me, thank you very much. This is my brother we are speaking of, and he was like a brother to you, as well, if you have not forgotten.”
Darcy sighed. “You know nothing would give me more joy than to have Richard back. I would give anything—anythingto hear it was all a mistake, that he is sailing home tomorrow, but Reginald, it is not true.” Darcy’s voice dropped until it was little more than gravelled tones. “Richard is not coming home.”
“So, what do you want me to do, Darcy? I have exhausted all my influence trying to harangue the Army into proving my brother’s death. If you think I found the duty a mere trifle—”
“Have I done less? Pressing General Houghton until he no longer receives my calls? Marching into the last place he probably saw in life, shaking hands with one of the men who could have saved him by giving a different order? I was prepared to drag him out of there on a stretcher or even in a box if need be, but Reginald, there was no one to bring home. The least the Army can do is give us the dignity of closure.”
“And I am certain they will. It may be until the end of the war when all is concluded there—less than a year, I should think.”
“Less than…” Darcy bit his tongue and clenched the fingers he had been about to gesticulate with. “There are real lives hanging in wait! Other soldiers have widows—this situation cannot be unique or unexpected, so why will they not trouble themselves to consider the family?”
The earl’s eyes hardened. “I still say theyareconsidering the family, in verifying and counter-examining everything before issuing the final certificate.”
Darcy shook his head. “If that were true, I would applaud it, with every feeling of goodwill I possess. But I cannot believe that is the case—I think the paperwork is sitting on the desk of some indolent under-secretary, neglected and on the verge of becoming lost for good.”
Reginald scowled. “Then you go track it down, Darcy. I am weary of the entire thing, and in no hurry to see my brother’s name printed on that bloody piece of paper.”
“Very well,” Darcy replied slowly. He watched his cousin for a full minute—the stony features, the grief now turned to unspent rage. At last, he surrendered and started for the door, but then turned back. “I know you think I have selfish reasons.”
“Do you not?” the earl snorted.
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “I loved Richard like a brother, but leaving Elizabeth waiting in some legal no man’s land because of the Army’s ineptitude—that is not what he would have wanted.”
Reginald pinched the bridge of his nose and drew a long breath. “Go on, Darcy. Just get it over with.”
Wyoming
