Darcy’sveryearswerewarm when he re-read the letter. Again.
The impertinent tart. Any other man would sack her. It… was an intriguing notion.
He felt a smile tugging at his lips even as his mind began to spin on her suppositions. She would never have written unless at the end of need, and most particularly would never have asked Georgiana’s thoughts on the matter without some deep suspicion troubling her. How it must have stung her pride to ask his advice!
He was at the door of his study before he had even pulled his coat back on. “Parker, tell Mrs Dobbs I will be departing for Derbyshire in the morning, and send word to the coachman as well.”
The footman bowed his “Yes, sir,” and raced to do the master’s bidding. Darcy turned back to his desk, agitated and, oddly, indecisive. Why was he mounting a fast coach back to Derbyshire at the whimsy and insecurity of a mere companion, a woman of hardly any account whatsoever?
The answer rang clearly in his heart, and with it, an equal tremor of regret in his spirit. Because the woman was Elizabeth, that was why.
“GotoPemberleywithyou? Whatever for?” Richard cocked his frame back in his chair and made a face at Darcy. “I thought I was not even welcome there.”
“Of course, you are. As you shall always be. I had hoped to mend this breach in our fellowship, and Georgiana has missed you.”
“But you speak of going tomorrow! Even if I understood the haste, I could not. Anne is here, did you not know? She arrived yesterday and is in high dudgeon that she missed seeing you so she might have the pleasure of scolding you all over again. I daren’t go to Pemberley without at least inviting her, for if I do, I will bring upon myself the wrath of both my wife and my mother-in-law. It is a fate more brutal than Boney’s cannon.”
“Then Anne must come as well. Perhaps she might finally exhaust her grievances about me and be content.”
“I cannot merely bring Anne! She and my sister are thick as thieves. I will hear nothing the entire journey but that she has no one to speak to and none to sympathise with her odious plight.” This last, Richard pronounced in a heavily inflected tone.
“Then bring Lady Sophia as well, if it gives Anne pleasure—heaven knows I must be in want of feminine oversight, and between the two of them I ought to be well supplied.”
Richard narrowed his eyes. “Both of them? You cannot be serious. What are you about, Darcy?”
“You look for mystery when there is none. I need a man of your powers, and time is likely of the essence.”
“Of all the…” Richard muttered to himself as he thought, then his countenance brightened in inspiration. “Wickham. Do you need a man to run him through? I would consider it a privilege!”
“That shall not be necessary, but you do know how delicate the matter is.” Darcy sealed his mouth then and waited, observing his cousin’s wary manner.
“I know what you will say next if I do not agree. You will be certain to inform me that it is in my best interest to come, my wife will be better pleased, Lady Catherine will not be likely to follow all the way to Derbyshire, etcetera.”
“Naturally,” Darcy said with a nonchalant wave. “I do not consider only myself.”
Richard nodded slowly. “I will come, so long as I may bring my sword.”
“Elizabeth,look!”GeorgianaDarcydropped her needlework and rushed to the nearest window. “It is Fitzwilliam!” she cried.
Elizabeth came more slowly, her steps weighted by no small measure of dread even as a great cloud of doubt lifted from her thoughts. “He has come sooner even than I expected,” she murmured.
“That is Fitzwilliam’s way. He would not send a letter to tell us of his arrival when he could come as quickly himself. My goodness, look how lathered the horses are!”
They watched together as the team drew to a halt in the drive and a coachman stepped quickly to the door. Then a figure emerged—a long arm, a broad shoulder, an exquisitely meticulous mess of dark curls covered immediately by a grey beaver, and, at last, a face that looked curiously to the window where they stood.
Mr Darcy.
He offered the briefest of smiles, but though Georgiana bounced in pleasure at his recognition, Elizabeth sensed his eyes locking on herself. His expression sobered and lingered… one pulse… two… then Elizabeth felt nearly chilled when he broke the look and turned back to the carriage.
She released a slow, shaken breath. Since when did the sensation of Mr Darcy looking at her make her flush like a schoolgirl? It must surely be her embarrassment over the past, and a just measure of humility due to the present.
But then, another feeling struck her, this one with all the force of lead and the searing pain of fire. Mr Darcy was handing a fine creature down from the carriage behind him—one who beamed and smiled and clung to his arm while she gazed adoringly up at him.
“Cousin Sophia!” Georgiana gasped in pleasure. “And Richard! Oh, and Cousin Anne! Come, Elizabeth, you must meet them!” She dashed away, pausing only at the door to compose herself before entering the main hall.
Elizabeth followed, a vast deal more slowly. She was in the entry, standing at Georgiana’s shoulder as she ought when the party came up the steps, but she managed to successfully avoid his eyes.
Much to her later dismay, it had not been difficult. Mr Darcy had looked at no one but his sister and his guests. Even at the obligatory introductions, he only gestured casually at her while uttering her name as nonchalantly as that of the common servants. His attention was immediately redirected to the ladies, for one of them—the colonel’s wife—began to protest her fatigue and general malaise, fairly commanding her host to secure her a hot bath and private quarters.
