Page 169 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

Darcy tipped his head and considered her. “You will be nearby to comfort him.”

“I will,” she said simply.

“I look forward to meeting your fiancé before long.”

“When the danger from typhus is past,” Miss Mary said, seemingly regaining some of her composure and good humor. “How do you mean to get Clover to Derbyshire?”

“Fitz is going to hire a drover,” his sister explained. “It was my idea.”

Darcy chuckled. “Are you pleased, Georgiana?”

She flung herself off the bed and into his arms. “So pleased. Delighted. Overjoyed!”

Embracing her in brotherly affection, Darcy felt relief course through him. “Thank you, dearest.”

Georgiana drew back out of his arms and sat back on the bed, her legs pulled up to the side. Holding her ankle and leaning on the other hand, she gazed at him with huge eyes. “Did you know?”

“Know what?” Darcy asked, frowning.

“Miss Bingley is to be our cousin.”

Darcy nodded, and his brow cleared. “I did know. They danced together for most of the night. Douglas received some interesting looks from some of the ladies because of his bruised cheek and eye. With no regard for propriety, he danced with only Miss Bingley, and once with Mrs. Hurst.”

Georgiana giggled, and Miss Mary smiled.

“Shocking behavior for a colonel and a guardian,” Darcy said, his lips twitching. “Will you be visiting Georgiana in London soon?”

“I will,” Miss Mary replied.

“Excellent.” He stood. “Goodnight, girls.”

“Goodnight,” they chorused.

At the door, Darcy turned and looked at Miss Mary. “You and your doctor will be welcome at Pemberley any time.”

She ducked her head, but looked pleased. “Thank you.”

Darcy left them and retired to his bedchamber to contemplate his joyful future.

*

Lizzy gleefully and anxiously waited for her fiancé to return to Netherfield at the beginning of February, in good time for Mary’s wedding. Before he reached his friend, his mud-spattered chaise rolled through the Longbourn gates. Lizzy sped down the stairs, through the front hall, and out the exterior door. The door to the carriage opened and Fitz-darling jumped down.

Extending her hands, Lizzy clasped his hands and eagerly leaned in for a kiss. His lips descended and moved over hers in a most thrilling and satisfying way. He pulled back and pressed his cheek against hers.

“My darling girl,” he whispered. “How I have missed you.”

“I have missed you desperately, Fitz-darling,” she confessed, sighing.

“I have arranged it so I can stay for three weeks,” he told her, beaming down at her. “Now, tell me, please, have you finished that plum jam I gave you?”

Lizzy chuckled. “I have. It seems everyone loved the jam, so it did not last past Christmas.”

“I thought so,” her darling said. He reached into the chaise and picked up a box off the floor. He showed it to her. “I have brought six pots of jam for you.”

“You are a darling,” Lizzy said, chuckling with her pleasure at his consideration.

“I have brought Cook the recipe, like I promised her,” he said. “How is her book coming along?”