Neither moved at first.
Only when the distant sound of Richard’s voice drifted nearer did they step back onto the path—composed once more, neither quite the same as before.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
It was several days later before Elizabeth and William found an opportunity to speak with his cousin in relative privacy.
After exchanging a glance with her soon-to-be husband—and receiving the smallest, steadying nod in return—Elizabeth felt his quiet confidence beside her before she turned to the colonel.
“William and I have discussed the matter in great detail, and we have decided that, as a sort of wedding gift to ourselves, we intend to place the management of Netherfield into other hands. Between Granfield Park, Pemberley, and William’s other holdings, adding Netherfield to his responsibilities would be far too much. I do not wish merely to offer it for sale and hope that some unknown purchaser will care for it properly.”
William stepped forward then, his expression composed but resolute. “We have considered the matter carefully,” he said, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation. “It is our wish that Netherfield remain in hands we trust.”
Before Fitzwilliam could protest, Elizabeth raised her hand.
“We would not be giving it to you,” she continued gently. “I understand that you will have some income from the sale of your commission, along with whatever savings you have accumulated over the past decade of service. We would agree to sell the estate to you at a fixed and reasonable price, to be paid over a term of years. You might apply a portion of your savings as an initial payment, and thereafter remit a settled sum each year—drawn from the profits of the estate itself—until the purchase is complete.”
William inclined his head. “You would answer to no one but yourself. It would be entirely your own.”
Fitzwilliam stared at his cousin and the lady who was soon to be his wife, astonishment giving way to something quieter—and, to Elizabeth’s relief, not at all resentful.
“You would truly do this for me,” he said at last, a trace of rueful humour in his tone, “particularly after the expectations your grandfather once encouraged me to form? I know that I assumed far too much when I arrived here.”
William met his cousin’s gaze evenly. “Any expectations that were encouraged were not mine,” he said quietly. “They shall not govern our future.”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “I understand that my grandfather gave you reason to believe that little would be required of you—that he hoped his influence might incline me towards you and that my acceptance was nearly assured when you arrived at Millwood Cottage. My grandfather and I corresponded, but we had not been in one another’s company for several years, and he could not have foreseen that his words would have had quite the opposite effect from what he intended. In truth, it would not have mattered what he said. Even had you come to me exactly asyou were then—as I have come to know you now—I should not have chosen you in the end.”
She paused, softening her tone.
“By the time my grandfather arrived at Netherfield, your cousin had already intrigued me greatly and was well on his way to winning my heart, even before I fully understood what I felt. I do believe that love is, in part, a choice—but something about William drew me to him long before I recognised it for what it was.”
The colonel exhaled, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Then I believe we are equally fortunate,” he said lightly. “For I should have hated to be the cause of awkwardness between you—and I confess my own inclinations have settled elsewhere.”
Elizabeth returned his smile, and when she glanced at William, she found him watching his cousin with quiet approval. Whatever awkwardness might once have threatened their friendship by her grandfather’s attempts to match the two had been dispelled. She felt a quiet relief settle within her; she had feared he might be offended by their offer, and she was grateful to see that he was not.
“I am pleased to know that we may all move forward without the least discomfort,” Elizabeth finished. “We shall be cousins, after all, once William and I are wed. I should be sorry indeed if any lingering awkwardness were to remain between us. But even so…”
She allowed the word to linger, her expression composed.
Fitzwilliam regarded her for a moment, then gave a soft huff of amusement. “You are determined that I should declare myself to your cousin, are you not? I am not blind—I know very wellthat you and Darcy have observed how often I find myself in Miss Bennet’s company. But I have not yet resolved my own mind. After you are wed, I shall have leisure enough to consider matters more carefully.”
“I have not pressed you, have I?” Elizabeth replied with innocent composure. “I would never compel a gentleman to speak before he is prepared.”
“No,” William murmured, and Elizabeth saw the rueful shake of his head, “you merely render silence untenable.”
The colonel laughed softly, the fondness in his expression betraying him. “Very well. Since you are so happily settled, you would see the rest of us disposed of with equal efficiency.” His tone sobered slightly. “I admire Miss Bennet greatly, but I am not ready to make declarations. I believe I must first know her better—and,” he drew in a measured breath, “she must have time to know me.”
His gaze shifted briefly, and Elizabeth sensed a thoughtfulness beneath his earlier levity.
“Mr Bingley’s departure wounded her more deeply than she would ever confess. A gentleman who would seek her regard must proceed with care. I would not add to what she has already endured.”
Elizabeth remembered too well her cousin’s brave composure in the weeks following Mr Bingley’s departure—the brightness that never quite reached her eyes. If Fitzwilliam perceived even a fraction of what Jane concealed, then he understood her far better than most. That understanding inclined Elizabeth towards him more favourably than any declaration could have done.
Her teasing expression softened at once. “She deserves nothing less than a man who would place her happiness above his own impatience to have matters quickly settled without taking the time to determine what they each desire.”
“Indeed she does,” William said quietly.
Fitzwilliam met his cousin’s eyes, his expression steady and unguarded, and Elizabeth felt the assurance in it more strongly than any formal declaration could have conveyed.
