Thomas's attention had settled upon Elizabeth, who was speaking with Andrew. The duchess could not help feeling a little sorry for the young man. He would have to seek a lady more suited to his own circumstances.
“Why are you going to Mr Darcy's house an hour before dinner, Uncle Thomas?” asked Mrs Bennet. She had already begun to understand some of the rules of the ton. One of the strictest required a guest to arrive exactly on time. Neither before nor after the appointed hour, even by a quarter of an hour.
“Because I have several matters to discuss with Mr Darcy. Tom will return to collect you and the duchess, whilst the young ladies will come with the Bingleys.”
As usual, Mr Bennet asked no questions, and Thomas was grateful for it. He had no desire to explain the purpose of the meeting and encourage his nephew to accuse him of interfering in family matters.
Which, in truth, he was.
Elizabeth occupied a special place in his affections, and he suspected that many of her present difficulties could be traced, however indirectly, to his own arrival.
∞∞∞
Mr Darcy's welcome was warm and sincere, as though he had been waiting for someone capable of bringing light back into his life.
“I am so grateful that you came, sir.”
Thomas had to remind himself that he had requested the meeting, not Darcy. His glance travelled quickly about the room, and what he saw pleased him. The house represented exactly what Elizabeth needed. Elegant without ostentation, it was plainly a home that was lived in. The impressive library contained books lying open in various places, whilst papers and letters covered the desk. A butler brought them brandy, and silence settled between them for a few moments. Thomas had not come to discuss ordinary matters.
“Fitzwilliam,” he said firmly.
The pleasure with which Darcy accepted the familiarity did not escape him. Thomas doubted that anyone else had addressed him by his Christian name for a very long time. “Before I retire to my estate in Luton, there remains one final task I wish to accomplish.”
Darcy nodded but remained silent, preferring to hear the elderly gentleman's purpose before speaking.
“It is not my habit to interfere in other people's affairs. Lately, however, I have discovered that having a family sometimes requires one to improve matters for those one loves. Elizabeth stands so high in my affections that I have come to think of her almost as a daughter.”
“In my affections too, sir, if you will permit me to add—though certainly not as a daughter.”
“Yes, I have found you to be a trustworthy gentleman, one who knows his duty and also appreciates a rare lady like Elizabeth.”
To Thomas's considerable surprise, the gentleman whom he considered composed under every circumstance immediately lost his composure.
“I do not trust him, sir!”
Thomas made a great effort to suppress the laughter threatening to ruin the dramatic moment. Instead, he noddedwhilst Darcy continued. “I can accept that Miss Bennet might love a worthy and honourable man, but Mr Kendall…I simply cannot trust.”
“Then, when do you intend to propose, Fitzwilliam? She will be here within the hour. I shall send her to you in this room, and you will have half an hour in which to ask for her hand.”
“Yes, that is my intention, sir. I badly need those moments alone with her.”
Thomas agreed. Darcy's agitation only strengthened his conviction that he was doing the right thing. There was something deeply moving in the young man's love for his niece. It carried him back to his own youth, to the memory of Henrietta's face filling his thoughts, bringing him happiness and giving shape to his dreams. He wanted Elizabeth to be happy. If she loved Darcy, she required no further time to decide. If she did not, it was only fair that he should continue with his life. Thomas possessed no certainties, only hopes.
“I shall postpone dinner as long as necessary. Only do me one favour. When you join us at table, make certain that you are betrothed.”
Darcy almost sighed; so intense were the feelings that tormented him. “I desire nothing more, yet I am terrified. Just as I was at Netherfield, I fear she may repeat that dreadful rejection.”
“Then make a proposal she cannot refuse.”
“But Mr Kendall will also be there. Did he…”
“Propose to Elizabeth?” Thomas asked. “No. And please forget Mr Kendall. Do you truly think I would allow her to marry a man I scarcely know merely because he declared himself?”
Darcy took a sip of brandy before continuing.
“I…” The words would not come.
Thomas was deeply impressed by how troubled he appeared. It was a measure of the depth of his love for Elizabeth.
