His brow creased as he lowered himself beside her.
“What do you have in mind? The earl has extended his protection to all three on behalf of his brother. Mrs Fitzwilliam, he means to provide for the rest of her life, if need be. Very generous, I would say, for his father would not have done half so much, even though they were lawful kin.”
“Oh, I do not mean that. Elizabeth shall get on well enough, I daresay. It would surprise me if she did not catch someone’s eye and stay in England indefinitely, but do not count on her remaining under the earl’s protection, or even nearby.”
Darcy shifted. “Why do you think that?”
“Oh, it is her manner. I think she will wish to put some distance between herself and Richard’s family, and why not, if you all remind her of her sorrows?”
He nodded gravely, this new notion darkening his thoughts more than he cared to confess. “Whatever pleases her best.”
“Indeed. But what of the others? Is there not something we can do for them?”
“Well,” he sighed, “unless I am mistaken, Miss Bennet has formed her own connections here.”
“Mr Bingley is impatient!” she exclaimed. “But do you not disapprove of such a connection?”
“How could I disapprove of my friend seeking happiness with an unaffected creature such as Miss Bennet? I did advise him it was not a prudent marriage in terms of social or financial considerations, but his priorities are elsewhere, and I do not fault him for it.”
Anne looked thoughtful, then made a dismissive face. “Well, that settles the ladies and leaves only Mr Collins. Privately, Darcy, I fear he is not long for his role as a tutor.”
Darcy frowned. “I am hardly surprised, for he has neither the credentials nor the sternness necessary. I believe the countess brought him on mostly for her own pleasure and, naturally, to show a bit of generosity to the fellow, but what would you have me do for him?”
“Well, he had undertaken the studies of a parson, and why not? Yes, I think it would do perfectly for him, for he has declared his interest in the Church of England.”
“Anne, I do not understand. What are you asking?”
“Why, to sponsor him in studying for the Church, of course, so he may one day receive an appointment. You have Kympton coming vacant one day, do you not?”
“Anne—” he shook his head and laughed in disbelief. “It is not that simple! He is not even a subject of the Crown. What you ask is… probably nothing short of heroic.”
“That, my dear, is why I askedyou.” She kissed his cheek and rose. “I knew you would manage it, Darcy. I shall see you at dinner, yes?”
ElizabethandJanecamefrom their rooms almost the same moment for dinner. They naturally fell into step beside each other until a door closed behind them. Down the hall, from another of the guest bedrooms, strode Mr Darcy in full dinner regalia.
“Good evening,” he greeted them cheerfully. “I see I am just in time to walk you both down.”
Elizabeth swallowed. She tried—heaven knew she tried—not to be captured by the powerful refinement of his features, the easy assurance of his bearing, or the raw allure of his presence. Even harder to withstand was the soft place behind that bold smile, the one he seemed to keep in reserve just for her.
She was too long lost. Her heart scrambled into her throat as she curled her arm around his, letting her long glove lay over his black sleeve. He was like honey—the forbidden, life-giving nectar for which King Saul’s son of old had broken faith.“See how my eyes were brightened,”he had said, and Elizabeth bore that in her conscience each time this man stepped into her thoughts.
He was speaking with Jane now, trying with all his dear, awkward heart to pay her a compliment on her looks without causing embarrassment for either of them. Did he speak more freely to Anne de Bourgh when they were alone? Was he easy and charming? Witty and funny, as he had been with herself? Or was he the romantic sort, bestowing heart-shattering kisses and holding his beloved close to his chest, his face nestling in her hair? Something twisted in Elizabeth’s belly—something old as the world itself, and no less wretched.
“And how are you this evening, Elizabeth?” he asked, turning to her at last. His expression sobered when she looked up at him.
“Are you ill? Perhaps some wine?”
She felt like a hare, staring and frozen just before the wolf closes his teeth, but she could not turn her gaze.See how my eyes were brightened…
“Elizabeth?” He stopped them all, his arm tugging on hers ever so subtly. “We need not go down to dinner if you are unwell. Shall I call your maid?”
Jane was peering around him now, a question on her lips she did not voice.
“Oh, I… no, I am well enough.” She set her teeth and refused to look at him again. “We should not keep everyone waiting.”
A faint reluctance played itself through his arm. He was still watching her in that intoxicating way he had—the one he tried to conceal from the world, as if others might mock his gentleness. The way he could penetrate, peel back and lay bare all her defences with that one searching look, it was as exhilarating as it was painful. Was there any greater curse? To be undone and found out by the very one who held her in his thrall? She heard the moment his breathing changed rhythm, felt the inviting flex of his forearm, and allowed him to draw her near.
“You will say something if you wish to retire, will you not?” he asked in a low voice. “I would not have you overtaxing yourself merely to please others.”
