I assured Samuel that Mr. Darcy had important affairs to attend to and that large people sometimes needed time to think.
“Did he send Mr. Bingley?” Alice asked from her sketchbook. “For Mr. Bingley comes every day and I think he likes Cousin Jane.”
“Eww… he does not,” Samuel declared hotly. “He likes to tell stories about Sir Bertram and the dragon.”
“You know dragons aren’t real.” Alice teased while Rose cried, “Mr. Bingley’s dragons say I can marry Sir Bertram when I grow up.”
“Is Mr. Bingley going to marry Jane?” Alice asked me. “Before you marry Mr. Darcy?”
“Mr. Darcy hates us,” Samuel declared. “Thomas ate all the strawberries and put a beetle in his soup.”
I found myself at a loss. I was tired of being angry with Darcy, but again, he had not said a proper farewell to the children he had endeared himself to. Their usefulness was finished. Bingley and Jane were restored, and he saw no reason to continue the visits. I well remember teasing him that he had found somethingin Cheapside that made the visits worthwhile, and I was right. He had been fixing his mistake and now…
I rubbed the ache between my eyebrows. I was being rather uncharitable, wasn’t I? That is what Aunt Gardiner believed. Jane would have said that he enjoyed visiting Gracechurch Street because he appreciated the people who lived there. The household, the children, and perhaps even the young ladies. Why could I not accept that Darcy might have enjoyed seeing me? Hadn’t he clearly stated it at the library?
And what did he stand to gain? I was not an heiress with forty thousand pounds, nor a woman with connections to grease his path to Parliament. I was merely—well, me.
“Cousin Elizabeth,” Samuel’s shout clapped my ears like a gong. “Someone’s at the door. Maybe it’s Mr. Darcy come to bring Sir Bertram more strawberries.”
My heart jolted out of its doldrums, and I picked up my skirts, brushing off any stray twigs. I had not shut the door on Darcy—not entirely, and when he had asked if he could call, I had given him a tiny nod. But then, I turned my back and walked away, not because I wished to dismiss him, but because I could not let him see how shattered I was looking at his brokenness.
I met Jane in the drawing room and noticed how she had taken extra care with her hair. Her cheeks were pink with anticipation, eyes bright, and her complexion as beautiful as spun porcelain. I hated that twist of her brow—that ever-present concern she wore, and I tried to still my fluttering heart. Mrs. Gardiner put her embroidery down as Sarah announced, “Ma’am, Mr. Bingley is here.”
Just Mr. Bingley. He bounded through the door looking positively incandescent. He bowed to the ladies and gave gifts to the children, leaving them squealing with delight. Of Darcy, he never spoke a word. I did not know if he remained in London or had retreated to Pemberley.
I had no expectations.
“Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Bennet.” He withdrew a letter from his pocket. “I have written to Mr. Bennet and received his reply in the post. He has given his consent, and dear Miss Bennet, you may read it right here. If you will have me…”
“Perhaps, you might let Jane take a moment to read my father’s letter,” I interrupted, knowing that my sister required a moment. She was never impulsive, and her quietness disguised her wisdom of due deliberation.
“Ah, yes, yes.” He shook open the letter. “In your father’s hand.”
Jane took the letter and read it, her face gradually opening into a smile as the color rushed to her cheeks. She nodded and handed the letter to me, as if she required my guidance. I read the words, affirming my father’s hearty permission for Mr. Bingley to offer for my sister’s hand, and I was glad for her but also concerned. Hadn’t this man, only a mere month ago, believed my sister indifferent to him? Hadn’t he so easily surrendered his own future to the misguided counsel of another? Shouldn’t a man know his mind better?
“Well, Lizzy?” Jane prodded. “What do you think?”
“I… uh…” The words were at the edge of my lips. That this was too hasty. The turnaround too precipitous. That a man who would be swayed by every breeze would be inconstant, not knowing his heart. But I swallowed all of it. “I’m happy for you, Jane, and I wish you two the best.”
Mrs. Gardiner regarded me with one arched brow. “Well said, Lizzy. You are learning.”
“Well, since there are no objections,” Bingley beamed. “And Darcy isn’t here to counsel otherwise. Then I shall… oh wait, let’s get the children.”
He waved across the room at them. “And Sir Bertram to witness the friendly dragon ask the sunny princess to marry him.”
“The friendly dragon is here!” Rose cried out. “And the sunny princess is Jane, right?”
“Yes, my dear.” Bingley gestured grandly to my sister, who fairly blushed and giggled behind her hands.
Samuel dashed to the garden, and Alice fetched the tortoise’s cape. Thomas sucked his thumb, still looking for the strawberries that would never come, while Mrs. Gardiner came to stand at my side.
“Lizzy, he will return. Some men need more time. They are not all like Mr. Bingley. Although I do not believe you’ve told me all.”
“There is nothing to tell. Mr. Darcy has no further use for us now that he has repaired Jane and Bingley. He will hear of this good news and stay away, his job done.”
“You know in your heart that is not so.” She patted my arm while the children returned, triumphant with Sir Bertram, his basking stone, and the cape.
“Now then.” Mr. Bingley cleared his throat. “The friendly dragon will get down on one scaly knee. See here?”
