Page 169 of Near Pemberley

He looked at her again. “I went to the inn. I learnt you had left Lambton.”

“You did not receive our note?”

“No. They were too busy and did not think it was urgent.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I could barely stand on my legs in front of the innkeeper. I believed whatever had begun between us had ended before I could name it.”

Elizabeth’s eyes filled. “Oh, Fitzwilliam…”

“Only one thing prevented me from surrendering entirely. The innkeeper mentioned that you had been crying when you left. I could not reconcile that with indifference.”

“Oh, dear man.”

“When no letter came from Longbourn, I tried to persuade myself it was over. I even attempted to mourn what might have been. Yet something within me refused to believe I had seen the last of you. It was a very slender foundation upon which to build hope. I wish I had been more courageous. I should have just gone to Longbourn to see things for myself. So, when I came across Miss Lydia – I understood why you left. I should like to tell you I did everything solely for your sake.” His voice became thoughtful. “Perhaps, in part, I did. But I also knew Wickham. I knew what sort of man he was. Once I realised who she was, I could not have abandoned her, no matter whose sister she had been.

“If someone had told me this morning that, before the day ended, I should hear Lydia Bennet calling me her brother, I should have questioned his sanity.”

Elizabeth laughed again, though more softly than before.

“I think even without this, she considered you a brother figure.”

“Really?” There was genuine astonishment in his voice.

“Have you not noticed how she listens to you? She very rarely listens to any of us. She had learnt that in the end, she always gets what she wants. But with you, she follows your wisdom.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Elizabeth sat back on the footstool at Darcy’s armchair. “Maybe she needed a gentle but firm hand. It is difficult to say no to you.”

“Is that so?” Darcy asked, a teasing light entering his eyes as he leant forward. The movement pulled sharply at his ribs. He stopped with an involuntary breath.

Elizabeth’s smile vanished. “It is better that you do not move about for a few days,” she said anxiously. “And yes, I know how absurd that sounds coming from the woman who once refused you, but it is true.”

Darcy’s eyes twinkled. “When have you seen me commanding anyone?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I do not need to see it. I can imagine it. I do not think you command people in the ordinary sense. You simply expect them to do what is right.” She smiled. “There is something about you that makes them wish to.”

“Is there?”

“Yes. I mistook it for arrogance once.” She held his gaze. “Now that you are my intended, it is my privilege to think better of it and say that I find it a most attractive quality.”

Darcy was silent for a moment.

“You cannot know,” he said quietly, “how much it means to hear you say that.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I think I can.”

He shook his head. “No. For months, I have measured myself against the opinion you formed of me at Hunsford. I hoped I had become a better man, but there remained a part of me that feared you might still see only pride where I wished to show principle.”

Elizabeth’s expression softened.

“Fitzwilliam, I no longer see the man who first proposed to me.”

“I do not want to be that man.”

She reached for his hand once more, her fingers slipping naturally into his.

“The strange thing is,” she said with a smile, “I do not believe that man was nearly as dreadful as I imagined.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “That is a remarkably generous revision of history.”