Page 20 of To Win Her Affections

In the end, Caroline did not doubt triumph would be hers. While Mr. Darcy might confound her and marry an heiress with a stupendous fortune and connections the highest circles of society, he would not fall prey to a woman such as Miss Eliza. If he yielded to the temptation of his cousin, Anne de Bourgh, or another like her, Caroline would regret the lost opportunity, but she would understand it. The very notion of him choosing Eliza Bennet was intolerable.

THAT MORNING, ELIZABETH was again surprised when Mr. Darcy appeared. As they were to attend him at Pemberley that evening for dinner, she had not thought to see him again before then. Yet Mr. Darcy entered their suite of rooms not long after breakfast, appearing apologetic though determined.

“Darcy!” greeted Uncle Gardiner, pleased to welcome him. “I had not thought to see you this morning.”

“And I apologize for intruding on your morning, Mr. Gardiner,” said Mr. Darcy, appearing a trifle uncertain about himself.

Elizabeth, watching the gentleman and wondering what had brought him there, caught her aunt’s eye. Mrs. Gardiner gave her an expressive look, and Elizabeth acknowledged it, though she did not dwell on it. That Mr. Darcy still looked on her with favor was something she could not deny, not given his eagerness to be in her company. At the same time, she remained uncertain, not only about Mr. Darcy, but what she should make of his actions.

“Not at all, Darcy,” replied Mr. Gardiner. “Is there something in particular you wished to discuss?”

Mr. Darcy’s eyes flicked to Elizabeth, and he shifted his weight, a curious gesture in a man who was so self-possessed. It did not escape Mr. Gardiner’s attention, and her aunt appeared amused by it.

“If I might beg for your indulgence,” said Mr. Darcy, “I wonder if you would allow me the privilege of a private conversation with your niece, Miss Bennet.”

This time Elizabeth gaped at Mr. Darcy. He could not be thinking of renewing his addresses. It seemed her uncle had the same concern.

“This is most curious, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Gardiner, defaulting to formality. “I beg your pardon, but may I ask after the subject of your intended discourse?”

Though mortified, Elizabeth could see at once that Mr. Darcy also understood the meaning behind her uncle’s question.

“No, Mr. Gardiner, I have no intention of raising that subject. It is a matter of mutual concern to us both and one on which I wish to know her opinion.”

Mollified, Mr. Gardiner offered a nod. “I apologize, Darcy, but appearing here with such solemn intent . . . The interpretation I was reaching for was not unreasonable.”

“It is not,” agreed Mr. Darcy.

The gentleman regarded her for a long moment, then he spoke further. “I shall not pretend you have misunderstood me, sir—I know you have both seen something of my interest in your niece. At present, I do not judge it the proper time for such a conversation, though I hope someday Miss Elizabeth will allow me the privilege of speaking on the subject.”

Elizabeth flushed. She could not believe her ears—that Mr. Darcy could be so open about his intentions was nothing she expected from him. The only thought she could summon in that moment was gratitude that he had not revealed the humiliating scene at Hunsford!

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, however, had no such reason for consternation. Her aunt, she noticed, threw Elizabeth a knowing look that was edged with self-satisfaction, while her uncle appeared pleased for her.

“A matter of mutual concern, you say,” said her uncle. “If that is all you mean to discuss, I can allow it.”

Turning to his wife, he asked: “Perhaps we should take a short constitutional about Lambton, my dear. That should leave Mr. Darcy and Lizzy enough time for their consultation.”

“An excellent notion,” agreed Mrs. Gardiner.

Before Elizabeth could understand what was happening, her aunt and uncle had gathered their effects and made their way to the door. As they were departing, however, her aunt leaned over to speak in her ear.

“Behave yourself, Lizzy. Then again, I must suppose that Mr. Darcy has that well in hand.”

Then with a pat on Elizabeth’s shoulder, she accepted her husband’s arm, allowing him to lead her from the room. They left the door ajar as was proper, though Elizabeth could spare no attention for her relations. All her focus was on the gentleman before her.

“What was that?” demanded Elizabeth before he could even begin to consider what he wished to say.

The gentleman frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

Elizabeth felt her patience fraying. “Your little speech about making your addresses to me. Have you forgotten Hunsford so quickly?”

Mr. Darcy did not respond at once—he contented himself with studying her. His scrutiny did not increase her irritation, though Elizabeth wondered at her patience when in the past she might have assumed the worst of him at once. Then Mr. Darcy sighed and raked a hand through his hair, turning half away from her.

“I offer my apologies, Miss Bennet,” said he, appearing both weary and contrite. “It appears my ability to understand you has improved very little.”

Elizabeth felt her ire drain away, replaced by uncertainty. “What do you mean, Mr. Darcy?”

“Only that I thought you more receptive to me.” Mr. Darcy shook his head ruefully. “I beg your pardon, for I did not intend to make you uncomfortable or force your hand.”