Page 80 of The Widower of Pemberley

Theirtête à têtewas then halted, first by Jane coming down, moving in that careful yet capable way she had developed, and then Georgiana arrived in a carriage with Emily.

Georgiana said to Elizabeth as she sat with them at the breakfast table, “Even though Fitzwilliam has promised not to fight, I could not stay at Netherfield. Miss Bingley had come down, and the expression on her face—like she hopes they do fight and both die… I cannot. And Emily was so upset. She needs to see Fitzwilliam, but it is impossible.”

“I am happy you are here,” Elizabeth replied.

Georgiana sat next to Elizabeth, and Mr. Bennet invited Emily to sit in his lap and taste his coffee, which she did. Pulling a face, she hopped down and said, “Why isn’t Papa here? I thought Papa would be here.”

“He is going to meet Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth said. “But he will be back soon.”

“Will he fight him? Is he going to die like Mama?”

“No!” Georgiana said sharply. “Fitzwilliam will be well. And George too.”

A wave of cold washed over Elizabeth again.

The room became crowded as her sisters and mother descended. That they were all waiting for Mr. Darcy to return from a dawn meeting kept them all subdued, though Lydia and Kitty sat apart from the others and giggled sometimes.

Shortly after the breakfast of sausages and rolls was set out, with thin gruel for Mr. Bennet, Charlotte arrived with Mr. Collins.

Elizabeth’s cousin sat down at the table with a smugly satisfied air. Everything about his appearance seemed hateful to Elizabeth.

The conceited clergyman congratulated Elizabeth twice more upon her marriage to such an illustrious person, then made a comment on the deep sinfulness of duelling before eating the last of the sausages and ham at the table, leaving none for Charlotte. Elizabeth’s friend had to satisfy herself with a tart and a bread roll to go with her coffee.

There was no conversation of note, and Elizabeth’s nerves were too strained to force any.

There seemed to be something on Charlotte’s mind, but Elizabeth was in no mood to guess what it might be.

“Look!” Kitty exclaimed from where she sat by the window. “They are returning.”

“Both Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam?” asked Elizabeth as she rushed to the window.

Lydia giggled. “La, you are acting as though you are in love.”

Not acknowledging her sister’s comment, Elizabeth peered out.

Thank the Almighty!

Mr. Darcy’s tall form was easily distinguished as he rode up the drive.

Elizabeth pressed her forehead against the cold glass and closed her eyes.

Georgiana came up next to her. “He is well.”

Realising that her father had arrived, Emily ran to the front door and had managed to open it on her own by the time Elizabeth and Georgiana reached her.

Without putting on their coats they went out to meet Mr. Darcy, as the little girl ran, crying out for her father.

Elizabeth managed to grab Emily and pick her up before she was trampled by the horses, and with a smile Mr. Darcy dismounted and took his daughter into his arms.

The little girl immediately started sobbing and sobbing.

Mr. Darcy seemed a little confused as he held her, but he appeared happy enough.

“What happened?” Georgiana asked. “Did you really not fight George?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam spat on the ground. “Coward did not turn up. We waited forty-five minutes before Mr. Denny arrived alone and terribly embarrassed with the news that Wickham had disappeared from his bed in the night. Your favourite did leave behind a note about how he had learned of desperately important business in London that he must settle immediately.”

A wave of relief crashed over Elizabeth.