“Yes, but at least Elizabeth is respectable and trustworthy, unlike… well, unlike some others. You may be faulted for some things, perhaps, but it cannot be said your faith is ill-placed. Nor can anyone accuse you of shirking your responsibilities to her.”
“No!” he declared vehemently. “I intend to marry her as soon as it can be arranged!”
Georgiana fell, laughing into his arms. “Oh, William, I am so happy for you! Richard told me this morning, he said… Oh! I nearly forgot!”
She spun away from him and went to rummage in her jewellery case. He waited for her, perplexed. “What did Richard say? I did not know you had even seen him before he left.”
“Hmm? Oh, it was nothing. He only knocked to say goodbye. I was taking an early breakfast in here.” She left her reason unsaid, but it seemed plausible that avoiding Miss Bingley might have been a motive for taking a tray in her room. She kept her eyes resolutely on her jewellery case as she searched for something among its many contents. At last, she found what she sought and came forward, hiding it in her hand.
He arched a brow. “What did Richard say?” he demanded again.
Her lashes fluttered hesitantly. “That… that it was well you had found love and that he hoped others in our family might one day do the same. Here,” she thrust the object in her hand into his, changing the subject. “It was Richard’s idea that I should bring it.”
He turned over a small velvet sack, closed by a drawstring. “So, this is that secret you had concocted? I wondered what you two were up to.” Opening the drawstring, he dumped out the prize hidden within. “Aha. I might have known,” he smiled. He opened his hand to reveal a lovely antique ring; a ½ carat emerald stone crusted all about with a tight and dazzling array of diamonds.
She smiled shyly. “I didn’t know Miss Elizabeth’s tastes, so Drake suggested I choose the one Papa gave to Mama. I hope I have done right….”
“It was very thoughtful of you, Sweetling. I think she will like it very much; green is a favourite colour of hers, though I daresay this ring will be too ornate to befit her simpler tastes for every day. Now that I consider it, there is not a ring in all the Darcy coffers which truly suits her—she is cut from quite a different cloth. Still, this is a fine heirloom to gift my bride until a more suitable one can be made. Thank you, Georgie.” He tucked the ring back into its velvet case, then secreted it into his pocket. Georgiana drew a satisfied but trembling little sigh.
He smiled commiseratingly at his sweetest little sister. “I am glad you can put aside your fears for a time. I wish you to rest at peace tonight. It will not do for you to appear worn and guilt-ridden on the morrow!” He drew her into his arms for a tight hug, planting a brotherly kiss on her forehead. “Sleep now, and we will face tomorrow together.”
She drew another long breath, squeezing her eyes shut and relaxing in his embrace. “Thank you, William.”
Chapter 25
Darcy’sthoughtswerestillstewing early the next morning. Though he had admonished Georgiana to take care to rest well, he had not done the same himself. He had managed to conquer his overwhelming desire to ride off in singlehanded search of Wickham, but he had lain awake much of the night.
Much depended upon how quickly he could secure Richard’s return. An express message sent late the evening before had urged haste, but Richard had a higher authority to whom he must answer. Darcy would have to step aside for the colonel’s commanding officer. He hoped the man would be reasonable and generous with his cousin’s leave. Georgiana’s respectability perhaps depended upon the cousins presenting a united front.
He had fretted some while longer over what he must do, but in good time his thoughts had turned to the brightest moment of his day—that shining instant forever seared into his memory when Elizabeth had returned his affections. Hs valet discovered him early the next morning, soundly asleep with a light smile upon his face.
“Excuse me, sir, but you wished to be awakened early,” Wilson whispered.
Darcy awoke with a start. “So, I did. Thank you.” He sat up, rubbing his bristling face. “No, no shave just yet. I desire a ride, and I shall return shortly.” Darcy dressed quickly and made his way to the stables.
A half-hour later saw him in a headlong sprint over the fields, thrilling in Pluto’s powerful strides and the stinging wind whipping his face. It was dark yet, the hazy outlines of the landscape rolling beneath his horse’s hooves. Darcy guided him single-mindedly to that spot where he had last spoken with Mr Bennet.
As he had dared to fantasize, Elizabeth was there, even so early. She stood quietly, bundled in her warm cloak and watching his approach. All his hopes centred upon that one hooded figure, the one in all the world he could truly open his whole heart to. He dismounted smoothly, scarcely noticing the distance between his horse and her until he had crossed it and the rein looped over his arm tugged the horse closer.
He reached his free hand boldly for hers, and she took it. At her touch, his entire body relaxed, and he knew peace. “I was hoping to see you this morning,” he spoke softly, wrapping his other hand possessively over hers.
She turned a welcoming smile up to him. “I thought you might be out early today, and I wanted to see you, too.”
“You did?” Gratitude lit his eyes. He peered carefully into her upturned face. “Truly, you wished to see me?” He could scarcely believe she had so suddenly and wholly committed herself to the match she had vehemently attempted to cry off only a few days before.
“I thought you might need a friend,” she replied simply.
His face fell. “It was not merely a ‘friend’ I hoped to find, Elizabeth.”
She laughed, that teasing lilt in her voice. “I suppose it would be uncharitable of me to disappoint, would it not?” She stood on her toes and surprised him with a quick, daring kiss to his chin.
“Elizabeth!” Pleasure mixed with fear in his tones. “We should not—your uncle already disapproves of me!”
“Nothing of the kind. It isthishe disapproves of.” She took his face in her other hand and pressed another firm kiss to his cheek.
“Elizabeth Bennet!” he gasped—not very harshly. “This is most immodest! I cannot condone...”
He was silenced by another kiss, this one much softer and placed in a far more distracting location. She slowly dropped down again and shrugged helplessly, her tones both teasing and sultry. “It is the dreadful company I have been keeping recently! This is one particular fellow in the neighbourhood who, I fear, has been a shockingly bad influence upon me.”
