He shook his head, the motion easing the band that squeezed her heart. “No. It is not in my nature to leave my cousin, Bingley, and his relations in danger while I am tucked away safe. Moreover, Georgiana wishes to remain. It is the first wish she has expressed in months. So remain we shall, and we will see how this debacle concerning Mr. Darcy plays out.”
Elizabeth smiled, giddy relief filling the void that had opened in the pit of her stomach. “Well, then, the least we can do is to offer you our hospitality. We would be delighted if you and Miss Darcy would call on Longbourn this afternoon. My mother and sisters will be pleased to meet you both.” Elizabeth clamped her lips closed. Yes, they would be…especially Jane? Would one look at the tall, commanding gentleman who stood before Elizabeth make Jane forget about Mr. Bingley?
“Thank you. I would tender our acceptance of your invitation now, but that will depend in large part on Georgiana.” He paused, his expression uncertain, then added, “If you would inform your relations of her heartbreak, perhaps they will treat her with extra care?”
Elizabeth considered that for a moment, then shook her head. “I think best not.”
His eyebrows rose. “No?”
She fought against a smile. So, the tall, striking colonel was not accustomed to being denied? She imagined not. “Your self-proclaimed goal is for Miss Darcy to be jolted from her sorrow. While I have no knowledge of what may or may not have been done up to this point, I have the strong suspicion that all those about Miss Darcy will have catered to her misery. Treated her with the utmost care.”
He nodded stiffly. “Certainly we have.”
“And well you should have,” Elizabeth said quickly, to mitigate any offence. “Now, however, it may be time for her to be with people who do not know of her sorrow. Who expect her to behave with normalcy. Perhaps that, rather than extra care, is the next step in her recovery?”
He blinked several times. The bay, whose reins Colonel Fitzwilliam held loosely, shifted, shaking his mane again. “You may be correct,” the colonel said slowly. “We will make the attempt.”
Elizabeth smiled, pleased he would listen to her. The expression slow with obvious disuse, he smiled back. Her heart, apparently wanting to reach him, made the attempt to climb her throat, preventing any notion of speech as she stared up at him, and he down at her, the clear blue sky a bright backdrop to his dark looks.
The bay pawed at the soft earth, restive and obviously unimpressed with his enforced immobility.
Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped back. “Ah, yes, well, I will be missed at breakfast soon. I meant only for a quick ride to clear my head.”
Elizabeth looked about, focusing on finding the height of the sun rather than on the blush that threatened. It was not like her to go all calf-eyed, staring at a gentleman. “I will be missed as well.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed. “Thank you for your invitation to Longbourn, Miss Elizabeth. It is my hope that Georgiana and I may call on you soon.”
Elizabeth dipped. “That is my hope as well, Fitzwilliam.”
Something flashed in his eyes at that, there and gone too quickly for her to read. He nodded. “Until then.”
With grace and strength to equal the stallion he rode, Colonel Fitzwilliam retook his saddle. Looking down, he studied her for a moment, appearing almost confused, then turned his mount and rode away. Elizabeth watched him go, her thoughts ranging over their conversation.
“Fitzwilliam,” she said softly, trying out the word again with a thrill of delight.
But how odd he should ask her to call him that, as if she were a comrade, not a young miss. Was that how he wished to see her? She did not care for that notion, when it came down to it. She did not want to be his comrade. At least, not only that.
She shook her head, watching him crest a low hill, then disappear down the far side. She was being silly. Foolish even. Her thoughts were no better than ones Lydia might have. Elizabeth had only just met this colonel. Encountered him but twice. Having a strong jaw, a fine straight nose, those dark, thickly lashed eyes…none of that meant he was a good match for her. Not even that he was a good person.
And yet he seemed good. Honest. Upright. All that a gentleman, and an officer, ought to be.
Still, she must learn why he flinched at his own rank. Something was amiss there. Something she should unravel before letting her too-eager heart become engaged. She did not, after all, want to end up like Colonel Fitzwilliam’s cousin, Miss Georgiana Darcy. Heartbroken.
Thus resolved, Elizabeth turned and set her steps for Longbourn, vowing to think no more about Colonel Fitzwilliam that day.
Well, at least not until after breakfast.
Or maybe for a bit before.
Fervently, she hoped he would call.
Chapter Twelve
Darcy sat beside his sister in the backward facing seat of Bingley’s carriage, struggling not to tug at his cuffs. His cravat. Anything rather than sit still and composed. Beside him, Georgiana hunched, her shoulders forward, her chin jutting and down, and the profile she presented him sheet white. At least she had permitted a maid to help her dress and to curl her hair. Still, her misery pierced him.
“I must admit,Colonel Fitzwilliam, that I am surprised you so readily and willingly conduct Miss Darcy to Longbourn,” Miss Bingley said from her seat opposite, beside her brother.
Miss Bingley spoke with such smug amusement, such obvious delight at being part of a conspiracy of which Darcy wholly disapproved, as to set his teeth on edge. Conviviality an effort, he cleared his throat to ask, “Why is that?”
