Darcy turned to Kitty. "And this is Miss Kitty Bennet, Elizabeth’s youngest sister. And you remember Georgiana?"
Charles bowed to both sisters. "Miss Bennet, Georgiana, a pleasure."
He offered Kitty his arm. "Come. You must all be exhausted. My housekeeper will show you to your rooms." He offered his other arm to Georgiana, and he led them up the walk.
"Mr. Darcy! You are here! I have missed you, sir."
Elizabeth watched as the tall, full-figured woman with flaming red hair descended upon her husband and embraced him. She could feel the heat as it rose to her cheeks. How dare Miss Bingley throw herself into Fitzwilliam’s arms, and he a married man?
Her astonishment deepened when the woman pressed her curvaceous figure against his form until her body was flush against his, seemingly indifferent to who might witness such behavior. Elizabeth glanced toward Mr. Bingley, but he had already gone ahead with Kitty and Georgiana, leaving her alone to observe the startling display.
Elizabeth's heart began to pound against her breast as she watched the woman cling to her husband. What was Miss Bingley to Fitzwilliam? There was a familiarity between them that made her question the nature of their relationship. Had she once been his mistress? Was that why Miss Bingley had been so insufferable at the ball?
The woman's arm was entwined with his, her elegant hands clasped firmly around his forearm. She held Mr. Darcy as though she possessed some claim upon him. As for the look in her eyes as she gazed up at him, there could be no mistaking it. This woman clearly adored Mr. Darcy.
Then, at last, Elizabeth saw him draw away.
He disengaged himself from her long-fingered hands and stepped back.
"Caroline, I believe you have met my wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy."
Elizabeth watched as the woman, plainly stunned by this announcement, stared at him in disbelief.
"Your wife?"
"Yes. We were married in January. I wrote to Charles. Did he not tell you?"
She stood speechless, staring at him. Elizabeth watched her closely. The disbelief written plainly across the woman's face was enlightening. This Miss Bingley had fully expected to become Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy herself.
For several uncomfortable moments, all three remained standing in the drive. Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy looked at one another while Elizabeth felt herself an outsider, observing a relationship of some duration, if she judged the woman's familiarity correctly.
A feeling of unease settled over her. Would Mr. Darcy use a woman and then cast her aside to marry another who pleased him better?
She stiffened at the thought. She was the outsider here. These two shared a history that excluded her. At least the woman was no longer clinging to Mr. Darcy as though he belonged to her.
Mr. Darcy turned to Elizabeth and held out his hand.
"Come, Elizabeth. Charles was to show us to our rooms."
She moved to his side. He smiled down into her eyes as he gently took her arm and guided her into the house.
Elizabeth felt strangely alienated as she climbed the stairs to their rooms. Thankfully, Miss Bingley remained behind in the foyer, no doubt staring after them as they departed.
The housekeeper met them on the landing and escorted them to their rooms.
"Mrs. Darcy, shall we draw your bath?"
"Yes, please."
Elizabeth entered the bedchamber. It was beautifully appointed in various shades of green. She paused to take in the room, careful not to look at her husband.
He closed the door behind them, then gently took her arm and led her to a couch facing the hearth. She sat down with deliberate distance between them, but he closed the gap and seated himself beside her.
"Elizabeth, it is not what you think. There is nothing between Caroline and me."
"Caroline, sir?"
"That is to say, Miss Bingley. We have known one another for seven years. Long ago, she asked me to call her Caroline, and because the Bingleys are such close friends, I am in the habit of referring to her by her Christian name."
