Page 34 of The Widower of Pemberley

“I see.” Darcy frowned, disliking the thought of Lady Catherine. “It is good that she is well. I would not wish ill upon her.”

Georgiana said to Miss Elizabeth, “Emily was extremely disappointed that we did not bring her with us to call upon you. She even dressed herself to come, but my brother thought, I mean we thought, that a noisy child would not be welcome when visiting an invalid.”

“Yes,” Darcy said solemnly. “But I have brought several drawings from her, and I have promised to explain the whole scene portrayed on them to you.”

“Poor girl!” Miss Elizabeth replied. “I promised that I would call frequently, and it seems I cannot. I would have liked to see her. It would have been good for me. I shall ask Papa when next he wakes whether he minds. I cannot help but think that some joyous voices would be good for him, and Emily can be quiet enough if she knows she must. We can take her out of the house to let her run about if necessary. Do bring her if you call again. I would dearly like to see her.”

It was impossible for Darcy not to smile at hearing this speech.

Mr. Collins looked at his cousin with admiration. “Your kindness will make you an excellent mother and the best of wives one day. As Lady Catherine told me once, there is nothing so important in a woman as a fondness for children. But temperance, a concernfor economy, and a quiet and modest manner are of great benefit as well.”

The expression on Miss Elizabeth’s face at this speech was odd. Her lips froze; they appeared to be fighting a frown. Then she took a small breath and looked at Mr. Collins with a wide, welcoming smile that did not reach her eyes. “I do look forward to being a wife and mother one day. I hope soon. I do so hope Papa’s illness does not prevent that.”

Mr. Collins smiled back at her with complaisance.

A worm gnawed viciously upon Darcy’s guts.

He saw clearly what Miss Elizabeth was about. He had moved in society enough.

Mr. Collins showed every sign that he meant to marry one of the daughters of the house, and Miss Elizabeth showed every sign that she was willing to be the sacrificial lamb.

Darcy lapsed into silence while the conversation continued about him.

After half an hour, the Bennet daughter who had been absent thus far, the plain one who played the pianoforte, came into the room and informed Miss Elizabeth that her father was awake again and asking after her.

She immediately rose, and Darcy rose with her. “I think it is time for us to depart since I can offer no useful aid.”

“Oh,” Miss Elizabeth said glumly. “But you have not yet explained Emily’s drawings.”

Darcy took them from his coat pocket and handed them to her. “I believe the chief point is that you frequently appear in them, along with me, lions, a rabbit, and a great castle.”

“All very clear!” Miss Elizabeth laughed as she studied the sketches with a furrowed brow.

“Would you like us to call again tomorrow?” Georgiana asked.

“Yes. And please bring Emily. I promise to play with her. And I shall show her about the shrubbery if the weather is at all sunny.”

The next day Darcy tried to convince himself to stay away when Georgiana called. He thought too much about Miss Elizabeth, and he felt too much at the prospect of her marriage to Mr. Collins.

But his effort to discipline himself was in vain. It seemed like a terribly long time since he had truly wanted anything for himself, and he truly wanted to see Miss Elizabeth again.

Darcy presented himself at Longbourn along with his sister, Bingley, and a delighted and bouncing Emily, who had promised many times to be quiet and not wild.

Bingley went again to speak to Miss Bennet, while Emily marched boldly into the drawing room, then hid under the tail of Darcy’s coat at seeing so many people.

With a wide smile, Miss Elizabeth approached the girl. “I am glad to see you, Miss Emily.”

“I offer you my condolences,” Emily said in stiff and drilled tones.

Miss Elizabeth nodded sadly. “Thank you.”

“How is your father?” Darcy asked.

She looked at him with those warm dark eyes.

He tried to make his gaze convey his sympathy, his anxiety for her, and his understanding of how much pain there was in seeing a beloved parent die.

Miss Elizabeth flushed and looked down. “There is even more hope for my father than yesterday. His speech is not so halting, the droop in his face has lessened, and he has a little strength in the affected arm and leg. He is awake more often and for longer. At present Mary is reading to him.”