Chapter 23
“I confess I did not like my grandson’s attitude this evening,” the duchess told Thomas after they had retired for the night.
He did not speak for a long time, and Henrietta continued.
“It is obvious that he did not enjoy the benefit of my daughter’s education for very long.”
“When did he say that his mother died?”
“Ten years ago.”
“Yes, it is understandable. He received a good education during the first ten years of his life, but it is not polished enough to meet the standards of this society.”
“I am so sorry that he sometimes seemed lost.”
The sadness and regret in her voice made Thomas sit beside her and take her into his arms.
“We have discussed a million times that we would not let the past spoil our future. You promised.”
“I know. I am trying so hard to be happy with what we have.”
“I do not want you to try. Happiness is not something to be achieved by effort; it is a state of soul and mind. Please do not make any effort on my account. I am happy merely to be near you, and joining you each night in our apartment is the moment I await all day long.”
“When do you think we will announce that we are married?” she asked, looking at him from the comfort of his embrace with the expression he had remembered for fifty years. His Henrietta, gazing at him with love and confidence.
“I see no point in hiding such a happy event. My nieces will need you a little while longer, but I am certain that next spring we shall retire to our house in Luton forever.”
“I wonder what will happen to Andrew,” she said, and her concern was evident.
“He will be fine. We shall take care of him. I only hope that he will not persuade Elizabeth to marry him.”
“Why? Do you not want to be related in that way?”
“Of course I do. It would be marvellous to have common grandchildren, though not from Elizabeth and Andrew. There is Kitty or Lydia, both charming young ladies who could make him happy—”
“But not Elizabeth,” she said yet her voice was far from angry as she had complete confidence in him and his decisions.
“No, I am scared but not surprised that he has focused his attention on her. She is, after all, the most interesting young lady he has ever met, yet he is not in love with her. Not the way Darcy is. While Elizabeth…I am confused that she has accepted his attention after only a few days, while she loves Darcy.”
“Are you sure she does?”
“Yes. In their case, it is complicated. Everything will change the moment they both accept that the feeling between them has only one name. It is love. Not friendship, amity, or companionship…love.”
“As we have always had!” she murmured.
“Yes, but I must stop you, dearest. Let us consider that our love is as new as our marriage. Come, let us forget everything except ourselves, these two youthful old people still in love.”
“One more thing. If what you said is true and she loves Mr Darcy, even if she is not wholly aware of the sentiment, then why has she hesitated since she met Andrew?”
Thomas answered with a smile and a tender gesture. After fifty years, he could look upon his loss in this way. Henrietta had delicately expressed a fear that Elizabeth and Darcy might stand where they once had stood, two young people separated by another person’s intervention.
“My love, you left me for a powerful and wealthy duke, whilst Andrew is a young gentleman from a distant little village with no impressive education or fortune.”
The duchess blushed at his frankness. Yet it was precisely what she expected from their love and marriage—confidence and sincerity.
“I adore it when you blush and feel guilty,” he murmured, kissing her hand.
“You can be a cruel gentleman,” she replied, but her beautiful smile contradicted her words. She admired him as much as she loved him.
