“I suppose I shall have to take you at your word. If it is true, then I can only be grateful she is experiencing some reprieve from her discomfort,” said Mr. Bingley.
“I hope dear Jane gets a good night’s rest,” said Miss Bingley, returning to Elizabeth’s good graces momentarily. She ruined it, however, by saying, “Perhaps she will be well enough to return home tomorrow.”
Outraged, Elizabeth had no idea how to respond. “That is ridiculous, Caroline, and you know it,” said Mr. Bingley. “Even if she is completely well, which is unlikely, she should stay at least one more day so we can be assured her illness will not return. I apologize, Miss Elizabeth, for my sister’s rudeness. She only wants Miss Bennet to feel better as soon as possible. As do we all.”
“Of course,” said Elizabeth. “Good night, everyone.”
The Hursts merely waved, but Elizabeth felt a shiver of pleasure when Mr. Darcy’s resonant voice said, “Good night, Miss Elizabeth.”
She turned to look at him. His gaze was intense, but there were no thoughts which reached her. She desperately wanted to allow herself to get lost in such a gaze, but there were four others who were watching. So, she turned and headed out the door and up the stairs.
Chapter 18
With so much on her mind, Elizabeth expected to have trouble sleeping, but the exercise of the morning and the distress of the evening must have tired her out more than she had known. Within minutes of laying down, she was asleep, and she did not wake up until sunrise, nine hours later.
When she rang for a maid to help her dress, it took longer than she expected. The maid apologized for the delay and explained that she had not been prepared to help, since neither Miss Bingley nor Mrs. Hurst ever woke up before nine in the morning.
Once she was ready for the day, Elizabeth headed to Jane’s room to see how her sister had passed the night, but Jane was still sleeping. So, she grabbed her cloak and headed downstairs.
She wanted some breakfast, but she suspected it was not yet available. She distinctly remembered walking in on them all yesterday while they were still breaking their fast. It had been almost eleven in the morning.
She did check the breakfast room, but as expected, it was empty. With a little disappointment, Elizabeth donned her cloak and headed outside for a walk.
She was less than fifty steps from the door when she heard someone call out, “Miss Elizabeth!” It was Mr. Darcy, and he seemed out of breath, though he was trying to hide it.
Once he had caught up to her, he said, “Would you mind very much if I join you on your walk?” Inside, however, he was thinking,Thank goodness I happened to see her leave from my window.
Elizabeth glanced up at the second story windows and wondered which of them was Mr. Darcy’s room. When she realized what she was doing, however, she blushed. Pulling herself together, she said, “Of course, Mr. Darcy. I would enjoy that very much.”
He offered her his arm, and with only a little hesitation, she took it. Though it certainly wasn’t the first time she had taken a man’s arm or even the first time she had taken Mr. Darcy’s arm, somehow this time the connection warmed her even more than her cloak did.
They walked in silence for a bit while Elizabeth frantically tried to think of something to say. All the while, Mr. Darcy’s mind was a blank. Eventually, she remembered his internal comment about how Pemberley was rather devoid of near neighbors.
“Will you tell me about Pemberley, Mr. Darcy?” she asked.
Why would she want to know about Pemberley? Perhaps she is more mercenary than I would have thought.
Elizabeth hastened to add. “I have heard much of it from Miss Bingley and even from Mr. Bingley, and I admit they have raised my curiosity. I have always been of the opinion that the best person to tell tales of a place is the one who calls it home.” After a moment’s pause, she added, “One can learn a great deal about both the person and the place from such tales.”
So, is she asking because she wants to know of Pemberley or of me?
Out loud, Mr. Darcy said, “It is a rather large home, as I am certain you have surmised. The park itself is ten miles around, about four or five thousand acres. The farmland and pastureland that I lease out is another four thousand acres. In the middle of it sits a small town, Kympton, where those who lease the land live.”
Elizabeth waited, expecting him to add something more personal, but he did not. She said, “I imagine that with such a large swath of land, you don’t have a plethora of near neighbors.”
He chuckled slightly, and the sound rolled through her, causing tingles of pleasure in her spine. “No, I do not. I admit that unless it is high summer or I am hosting a house party, I do not much enjoy living there. I do make it a point to spend at least two weeks there every season except winter to ensure that the house and estate are running smoothly. The rest of the time, it is hit or miss as to whether I am there.”
“I would assume that, even if you don’t live there most of the year, you still consider it home,” she said.
He turned to look at her, and she met his gaze. For a moment, she watched him as he studied her expression, though she could not tell what he was looking for.
After a few moments, he turned his head forward once again. He said, “I do. Very much so. It is the land of my father and his father for many generations. No matter where I go, I am Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. It is as much a part of my identity as my name.”
“I understand,” said Elizabeth. She truly did. While she did not always relish living at Longbourn with its chaos, it was her home. No matter where she went, she would never lose that.
A sudden thought intruded, and she glanced at Mr. Darcy out of the side of her eye. Assuming she married someday, shewould no longer be able to call Longbourn home. Her home would be someplace else entirely. Some distant place that she currently knew nothing about.
She had never thought about it in such a light. She had only ever imagined falling in love. But such a love would cost her dearly. She would lose her name, her home, and even her fortune, new though it was. What man could possibly be worth giving up almost everything she was?
