A chill washed through him as he verily shuddered from the neck down and felt his hands cramp. He sucked in a deep breath and realised his teeth had chattered aloud. “No! I will not go to London.”
“But Fitzwilliam, think how pleased Uncle and Aunt will be to see that you are alive! Will not your presence be cause for gladness at a sad time?”
“Richard’s word, and the testimony of Lady Catherine will suffice for the present. I shall send a note of consolation.”
She pursed her lips and toyed with the food on her own plate. “I think a note hardly fitting,” she answered unhappily. “Aunt insisted that we must make the journey; it was the only proper thing to do.”
From his right, Darcy watched Elizabeth’s brow quirk, but she said nothing. Rather, she seemed to be exerting a valiant effort to keep silent and not engage Georgiana whatsoever on the topic. She dabbed her mouth with her napkin and fixed her eyes on her plate.
“I am afraid we must make our excuses,” he stated with finality.
Georgiana pouted down at her glass. Darcy released a tight breath and resumed staring at his own dinner… he would much rather look at Elizabeth. A moment later he was hungrily admiring the fine curve of her brow, the rich glossy curls at her cheeks, the perfection of her skin….
“Fitzwilliam, surely you will have business in London.”
He blinked from the dash of cold water over his reverie. “What?”
Georgiana waited until he was looking at her before she continued. “Why, everyone thought you dead, and surely the solicitor will have paperwork to sort now. You know; wills, settlements, that sort of thing.”
“I will certainly have to go, but not now. The most pressing matters can surely be resolved by bringing our solicitor here.”
“But you will need witnesses to verify your identity,” she pressed. “Else how would anyone be certain that it truly is you? You do look somewhat different, but I am certain that Uncle and our cousins, or perhaps Mr Bingley or some of your other friends might have no trouble recognising you.”
“I have seen Mr Bingley already, and can no doubt request a sworn statement, if that is necessary.” He let the conversation drop and was determined to focus on his plate when he perceived a shift in Elizabeth’s posture.
“You have seen Mr Bingley?” There was a deep warmth in her eyes, a significance attached to her words.
His own face softened. “I am afraid I did not have the honour of paying my respects to Mrs Bingley, but yes, I spoke with my friend. It was he who told me that you had come to Pemberley, and after that, I was on the nearest fresh horse at hand.”
Laughter sparkled in her expression, but a chair screeched to his left.
“I am not feeling well,” Georgiana mumbled. Making no further excuses, she hurried from the breakfast room.
His brow furrowed, gazing after her, then he turned back to Elizabeth. “Has my sister’s health been troubling her?”
There was a gravity in her expression as she gazed at the door. “It is not her health, William. She was crushed with grief when she thought you dead. I think she perceived my sorrow as well—and my sister’s, over her own affairs. Mourning was the common thread in this house. Now you have returned and she wishes to rejoice, but she feels, perhaps, that you are less delighted to see her than she is to see you.”
“But I thought constantly of returning to….” He sighed. “No, that is untrue. I could not think of her. I did not dare. It was not because I did not wish to see her, but because I feared for her! I thought she understood that.”
“Her life has been shifting constantly. Overnight she was thrust into duties she did not want, overpowered at every turn by her relations. Now that you have miraculously returned from the dead, she wishes everything could become as it once was, but she fears that I have replaced her in your affections.”
“Replaced her! That is impossible—forgive me, Elizabeth. Is she such a child that she does not see that?”
“William,” she reached boldly across the table, and after a second of hesitation, he gave her his hand. “You are all she has ever had—you and the colonel.”
He was silent a moment, staring at nothing as he considered his sister’s predicament. “It must have been difficult for her. It may take her some while to adjust, but I am confident that she will come to understand. She is an intelligent girl, and will soon be a woman.”
“I believe she would be comforted if you spent time with her alone. Perhaps I might pass the remainder of the evening above stairs with my own sister?”
Her words made his stomach quiver. His first real evening in his own house, with Elizabeth present, and she was not to play and sing for him? He could not admire the glow of her skin in the firelight, or warm himself by the radiance of that delicious smile? He had longed all day for that scarce hour or two he could claim for himself before they all retired for the night. Mr Bennet’s reply to his letter could not come soon enough, for then he could keep her by his side in truth as well as in dreams.
“William?”
He tightened his fingers around hers and met her eyes. “I do not think it necessary to make special provisions for this night. I will set aside an hour to speak with her on the morrow.”
She tilted a brow. “William, the longer you delay, the more difficult it will be to assure her of your devotion.”
“Elizabeth, I beg you, do not ask it of me tonight.”
