Page 122 of The Matchmaker’s Mistake

When the carriage stopped at Gracechurch Street, he helped Miss Elizabeth descend and walked her to the stairs. She took the two steps up and turned back with one hand upon the rail, the open doorway casting a warm light behind her.

“You will call tomorrow,” she said. It was not a question, but not quite a command.

Darcy’s heart beat a little harder. He had come every morning this week, and yet she wished to be sure of him. It was more of a glimpse into their future than he had yet had.

“I will be here,” Darcy said.

She smiled, then glanced over her shoulder at the house and back to him. “You had better bring sixpence.”

“Has Master Edward raised his price again? I shall be pockets-to-let if this keeps up.”

“He has heard that I am leaving after Easter. He means to make the most of you while he can.”

“Then I shall bring a shilling.”

He watched the door close behind her. Then he climbed into his carriage sat back against the squabs.

Across from him, his mother looked entirely too satisfied.

“Do not say it,” he warned.

“I am permitted to observe that you are getting on very well.”

Darcy looked out into the street and did not answer.

He would not wait until Longbourn’s carriage arrived to speak. He would ask Miss Elizabeth before she left. He would choose the words and the time and do the thing properly. If Miss Elizabeth wished for a longer engagement, he would write to Bingley and ask whether he might assume the rest of the lease at Netherfield. But he hoped she would not.

Easter would answer for it. There was time enough if he did not waste it, and Darcy did not intend to waste a single day.

CHAPTER 30

Mr. Darcy came every morning. He paid Edward’s toll, which was now extravagant and today included rendering several services to the children of the household. He admired Lord Nelson while the cat sharpened her claws on his clothes. He sat among the mending, the children’s drawings, the dolls and toy soldiers, and asked Elizabeth questions that she was pleased to answer. He asked what she was reading, whether she had heard from home, and once, with great seriousness, whether she had always preferred walking to riding, which she thought suspicious.

It was perhaps the most domestic courtship in London, and she enjoyed it more than she knew how to say.

Of course, they did attend some of the evening entertainments, such as they were this time of year. When they did, Mr. Darcy found her a chair, brought her refreshments, and otherwise remained at her side. Elizabeth had once thought him reticent in company. Now she understood that he had simply never known how to be near her without wanting to be nearer. As far as she was concerned, it was a very agreeable defect, and she had no wish to cure him of it.

Meanwhile, other matches were progressing around them. At the Lenten concerts, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Finch conducted what appeared to be an entire courtship through disagreements about their horses, each correcting the other’s opinion with enormous satisfaction.

Even Lord Milton, who had reportedly never looked at the same young woman twice, had begun looking at Lady Honoria quite often. Elizabeth wondered if this, too, was a Lady Anne match.

“Lizzy,” Jane said one night at such an event, “you are staring at Mr. Darcy again.”

“And you are forever staring at Mr. Aldridge,” Elizabeth replied.

“I suppose I am.” Jane lowered her eyes. “You know, I have been thinking of late that I owe you a great deal.”

“For teaching you to stare?”

“For refusing to marry a man if you knew he was not the one for you.”

Elizabeth’s teasing left her. “Jane?”

“I did love Mr. Bingley. Some part of me will always remember him fondly. He was kind, and warm, and made everyone around him feel welcome. But I was never certain how much of him would truly be mine.”

She looked across the room.

“Mr. Aldridge is different. He has friends, but they do not come before me. He listens when I speak, even when I have said very little. He notices when I am tired. He asks what I think and waits for the answer. He shares his books with me and does not mind if we disagree about them. He is decisive, but he does not mistake my quietness for having no thoughts or wishes of my own, and he regularly seeks out my opinion.” She paused. “He knows what it means to make room for another person in his life. I shall never have to wonder whether I matter to him.”