Chapter 28
Elizabeth arrived at the Meryton assembly as the last set was coming to an end. She spent half an hour receiving the congratulations of friends and neighbors on behalf of Kitty. All the while, as she murmured her thanks, she searched the masses for a tall, sober visage.
When the crowds had finally thinned out, she gave up hope and trudged out to Bingley’s carriage. The entire ride to Netherfield, she wondered if maybe he was just a figment of her imagination.
The house was dark and quiet when Elizabeth arrived, and she quickly made her way to her rooms. Even after changing into a nightgown—with the help of a sleepy maid—and snuggling into the soft feather bed warmed with bricks, she was unable to sleep.
After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she arose from her bed in frustration and donned a robe. Perhaps if she went to the library, she could find the most boring tome imaginable to lull her into slumber. A treatise on crop rotation or a book of sermons should do the trick.
As she stepped out of her room, she noticed light coming from underneath the door of one of the other chambers in the guest wing. Given that it was three in the morning, it was too early for the maids to be at work lighting fires. Besides, as far as sheknew, she was the only one staying in that part of the house; the Bingleys and Hursts were both in the family wing.
Darcy!
In an instant, she knew—Darcywasin Hertfordshire, and he was staying at Netherfield!
But why did no one tell her?
Flashes of the day flew through her memory, including Bingley’s insistence she leave the house for a time before preparing for the assembly. Perhaps it was meant to be a surprise? Then why wouldn’t he have stayed to speak with her at the ball?
Then it all clicked. The pieces fell into place: dancing with Wickham, speaking privately, him kissing her hand, going to her father, and the announcement of an engagement with her mother’s shrieks drowning out the name of the Bennet daughter to become betrothed.
Oh Lord, he thoughtIwas the one to become engaged tonight.
She stared at his door, wondering what to do. Everything inside of her yearned to knock and explain herself right this instant. But another voice in her head reminded her that doing so would violate every rule of respectability and decorum.
Hang propriety.
Whether it was the lateness of the hour, the punch she had drunk, or the adrenaline from having slapped her sister, Elizabeth felt as though she were in the thrall of a fae’s enchantment. Throwing caution to the wind, she closed the distance between herself and Darcy’s chamber and knocked.
The sound seemed to break the spell, and suddenly all her inhibitions returned. She froze, fervently hoping that the candle had been left lit by accident. Alas, the door opened to reveal Darcy dressed only in a loose tunic hanging out of a pair of trousers, an unbuttoned banyan hanging from his frame.
Behind him, his valet had frozen while placing items into a trunk. The two men gaped at her. Flushing in embarrassment, she spun around and fled.
In her confusion, Elizabeth had turned the wrong direction and was halfway down the corridor before realizing her rooms were behind her.
“Miss Bennet!”
Footsteps told her that Darcy had chosen to pursue her instead of shutting the door. She closed her eyes in dismay and debated continuing her escape, but she knew she would only be postponing the inevitable. Instead, she bowed her head and waited for him to catch up.
She could sense, rather than see, when he reached her side. “I am so sorry, Mr. Darcy,” she said as soon as he was near. “I should not have disturbed you in your chambers. I can only blame the lateness of the hour and indulgences of the evening for my impulsive behavior.”
“I… I quite understand,” he replied.
“I had not known you were in residence, you see,” she added, “and I was surprised by a light coming from a vacant room.”
“Naturally, naturally.”
A few seconds of awkward silence passed before Darcy said stiffly, “Please allow me to congratulate you on the happy news.”
“Oh, yes!” In her unsettled state, she had almost entirely forgotten everything. She paused to form her words carefully, then said with great emphasis, “Major Wickham will be very happy being marriedto my sister Kitty.”
“Your—your sister?”
She spoke quickly, her words running together. “Yes, my father announced their engagement this evening at the Meryton assembly. The major was hesitant to ask for my sister’s hand, as he was afraid that even with your generous gift—of which I was aware—he would not be able to support my sister in thestyle with which she was accustomed. As I am more familiar with my family’s financial situation, I strongly encouraged him to speak with my father immediately, as things were not what they appeared—or were rumored—to be. He was grateful for this information and left immediately to speak with him. Their betrothal was announced a few minutes later, along with Jamie’s and Penny’s. I am very happy for all of them.”
There was silence, then a hoarse, “Oh, thank you, Lord.”
A laugh burst out of her, mingled with a sob. She twisted around to face him, and suddenly she was in his arms in a warm embrace. Her face was pressed into his chest, and she could feel the heat of his skin through the thin linen of his shirt.
