Page 31 of Honor Requires

Less than a week later, everything changed.

Mr. Gardiner was called suddenly back to London, the urgency of his affairs leaving no room for delay. Mrs. Gardiner, after brief consideration, resolved to accompany her husband.

“We must not remain here alone longer than necessary, my dear,” she said to Elizabeth, though her tone was gentle. “And now, we cannot wait for Mr. Darcy’s return. Business will not allow it.”

Elizabeth agreed, though not without reluctance.

“I shall leave word with Miss Darcy,” she said.

“That is best.”

The following morning, Elizabeth called at Mill House. She was admitted at once and shown into the parlor across from the drawing room—but paused just before entering.

The door to the drawing room stood partially open. Inside, she glimpsed a figure.

A gentleman stood with his back to her, his posture easy, almost careless. His coat was of good cut, though worn with a certain negligence, and his hair—light brown, not dark like Mr. Darcy’s—caught the light as he turned.

Elizabeth could not see his face.

Before she might observe more, Miss Darcy appeared.

“Miss Bennet!”

Elizabeth turned at once, smiling. “Miss Darcy. I have come to take my leave.”

Miss Darcy’s expression relaxed, though there was something in it—something unsettled—that Elizabeth could not quite name.

“You are leaving so soon?”

“My uncle has been called to London, and my aunt accompanies him. I could not remain.”

Miss Darcy clasped her hands together. “I shall miss you very much.”

“And I you,” Elizabeth replied warmly. “You must write to me.”

“I shall,” Georgiana said quickly. “You have my direction?”

“I do. And I shall leave mine for your brother.”

At the mention of Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy’s expression changed—only slightly, but enough for Elizabeth to notice. Surely, Darcy has informed his sister about our relationship.

“He will be…very sorry to miss you.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly. “He will not miss me long.”

“No,” Miss Darcy said. “No, I suppose not.”

There was a pause. Elizabeth dismissed the earlier impression. They parted with warmth, promises exchanged, letters assured. Elizabeth did not look again toward the drawing room.

Six weeks passed. At first, Elizabeth was not uneasy.

Darcy had spoken of business, duty, and of obligations that must be fulfilled before pleasure could be resumed. She knew him well enough now to understand such delays.

Still—

A letter should have come, even if only from Miss Darcy. Darcy would likely observe propriety and not write until after speaking with Elizabeth’s father.

Then another week passed. Then another. Her confidence did not fail at once—but it wavered.