“That I should love you so much more now than I did in April.” He paused, as if considering his own words. “Then, I thought only of the happiness you would bring me; now, I find I would do almost anything to secure yours, even if it meant postponing mine.”
Elizabeth did not speak for several moments, her gaze fixed ahead as they walked. At length, she said quietly, “I believe I have always felt more for you than I ever admitted, even to myself.”
She drew a steadying breath. “My mother has compared me to Jane my entire life, and I have generally been found wanting. I do not doubt that others have made similar observations about my looks or my manners, but none of them ever signified as your remark did at that first assembly.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but Elizabeth laughed softly and shook her head, her hand tightening slightly upon his arm to stop him. “You need not apologise again, Fitzwilliam,” she said. “That is not my purpose in speaking of it.”
Her tone gentled, though her words remained steady. “I had never allowed mere words to trouble me before, at least not in any lasting way. Yet yours did, and I think it was because they came from you.” She glanced up at him, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips. “They gave me an excuse to hate you, which was very convenient, for otherwise I suspect I should have liked you far too well from the beginning.”
She paused, her smile lingering a moment longer. “Even when we argued, I found I did not entirely wish it to end.”
Resting her head against his shoulder as they walked, Elizabeth delighted in their proximity.
Neither spoke for some time after this. Elizabeth found her mind settled by the proximity to her intended; the thoughts that had plagued her earlier were no longer so bothersome. Instead of worrying over thingsshe knew she could not change, she chose to bask in his company, knowing that it would not last.
Darcy accompaniedElizabeth to Longbourn after they had spent nearly an hour together at Oakham Mount. They had spoken at intervals, yet much of that time had passed in quiet communion. Elizabeth had been agitated when she first arrived, but it had not taken long for her to recover her composure, and Darcy had been reluctant to disturb her peace. Instead, he contented himself with her company—walking beside her, her arm resting lightly upon his, a quiet he had come to value more than conversation.
When they reached Longbourn, the house was still. The Gardiners were awake and seated in the drawing room, a tea service arranged near at hand, and Mr Bennet was, in all likelihood, in his book room; but none of the others had yet come down. Breakfast would be served once the household was assembled, though the Gardiners had requested tea while they waited.
He was accustomed to Georgiana keeping late hours, and though he could not help but wonder how she had fared, he was gratified by the growing closeness between her and Miss Mary. Between the careful watching of Mrs Annesley and the quiet of the morning, it afforded him and Elizabeth an opportunity to speak with the Gardiners, and he found, not for the first time, that he enjoyed their society exceedingly.
“I spoke to Bennet last evening, and he has agreed to our taking Kitty to London,” Gardiner began, once Elizabeth and Darcy were seated with their tea. “Mary will go to Pemberley with your sister,” he added, with a glance in Darcy’s direction.
Darcy inclined his head, well pleased that Bennet had so readily consented to the disposition of these two daughters. Though the gentleman had also agreed to Lydia’s removal, for her own good, it was this arrangement which Darcy had most feared might falter once it came to be acted upon.
“Last night, I accompanied Fanny upstairs, and she remained decidedly displeased at the high-handedness of everyone in making arrangements for her daughters,” Mrs Gardiner said. “The only point on which she was truly fixed was Lydia’s being obliged to go away to school. That Mary and Kitty should visit family was expected, but that her favourite daughter should be sent off to some dreadful establishment was, in her view, an outrage.”
Mrs Gardiner’s tone betrayed her irritation, and Darcy could not help but wonder how long she had been required to endure such complaints—and how often they had been repeated.
Elizabeth leant forward, lowering her voice so that she might not be overheard by anyone who might be lingering in the hallway. “We will remain at Stoke for at least a se’nnight after the wedding. Though we do not intend to make our plans known, it will allow us to determine whether Papa has acted as he promised. If he has not, I do not suppose we may simply carry Lydia off ourselves, but we might at least provide a voice of reason. The only comfort is that Jane is determined to stay here, and, as she considers it her duty to stay with Mama, her presence may prevent Lydia from being kept at home.”
Gardiner shook his head, his expression one of displeasure, and set his cup aside, drawing Darcy’s notice with the slight noise it made. Turning towards Elizabeth, her uncle regarded her steadily and Darcy realised that what he would say was of great import.
“I have already warned your intended about taking too much upon himself, and now I find I must give you the same caution. Elizabeth, what your parents choose to do is not your responsibility. In two days, you will be Elizabeth Darcy.”
Darcy felt a sense of delight come upon him at hearing this, although he kept his countenance composed. He did reach out and take Elizabeth’s free hand, his fingers tightening about hers.
“Kitty will go to London with us and remain there as long as she wishes. Mary will go to Pemberley, and I cannot imagine you would compel her return if she prefers to stay. Jane has reached her majority and is fullycapable of deciding where she ought to be. For the present, that is here—but she may, in time, determine otherwise. When that day comes, she will write to you or to us, and she may join either household. But it must be her decision.”
Elizabeth listened without interruption, at times squeezing Darcy’s hand as he had done hers earlier, but she remained listening and did not attempt to interrupt.
“The Bennet family is not of such consequence as to warrant notice amongst theton, and even if Lydia should one day bring ruin upon herself, it will not be your responsibility. You will already be married, and you and whatever sisters are not here can distance yourselves if necessary.”
Darcy found himself in full agreement, though he doubted Elizabeth would so readily divest herself of concern for her family. Indeed, it was one of the very qualities he most admired in her—however inconvenient it might prove.
“Mr Bennet lacks either the strength or the inclination to oppose his wife,” Darcy said. “Do you not think that, with a measure of encouragement from you or from me, he might be persuaded to stand firm? Once Miss Lydia is at school, I cannot suppose he would be eager to bring her home again before it is necessary.”
Elizabeth inclined her head, acknowledging his reasoning. “He is capable,” she said. “Mama was insistent that he compel me to marry Mr Collins, but he refused. It is possible he will see the sense in sending Lydia to school and remain resolute.”
“He was willing to stand firm because it was you,” Gardiner said to his niece, making plain his view of Bennet’s earlier resolve. “I am not so certain he will not yield where Lydia is concerned. Once we are all gone, Fanny will begin again—complaining about the supposed injustice of Lydia’s punishment, for she plainly considers her being sent to school as such, and is not yet convinced that Lydia has done anything wrong. That she has been preserved only by circumstance, and not by any merit of her own, has entirely eluded her.”
“We shall see how matters transpire,” Darcy said. “If need be, I will use my influence with Mr Bennet to encourage him—but not until Elizabeth and I have had some time to ourselves.”
Darcy spoke with a certainty he hoped would put an end to the discussion, and it did so. The noise from upstairs a few minutes later would have interrupted it regardless, and before long they were joined by several others. Mrs Bennet, it seemed, was still abed, having ordered a breakfast tray to her room, and Mrs Hill came in to inform the rest of the household that breakfast was ready.
Those assembled moved into the breakfast room, where trays of food had been laid out and were ready for the family to serve themselves. Darcy turned his thoughts to what must be accomplished that day, including his meeting with the rector later that morning, but his attention was soon diverted by the sight of his sister entering the room arm-in-arm with Miss Mary.
He was struck at once by Georgiana’s evident satisfaction, and still more by the same expression upon Miss Mary’s countenance. That he had paid the third Bennet daughter little attention the previous autumn, he readily admitted; yet in the last few days it seemed she had flourished in Georgiana’s company every bit as much as Georgiana had in hers. Miss Kitty followed close behind, looking no less pleased with herself, as though she had in some way been the source of the others’ amusement. Mrs Annesley followed behind the girls, giving him a nod to let him know that all was well.
