Page 36 of To Win Her Affections

“Yes, Mr. Darcy. I should like that, if the opportunity presented itself.”

“Then we must ensure it will,” said Darcy, elated. “For now, there is much more to see. Shall we continue?”

At her assent, he helped her down the incline and onto the curricle again, and they departed. There were still miles to go, but the path was now clear. For the first time, Darcy could imagine winning Elizabeth’s love.

Chapter IX

It was perhaps thirty minutes before the appointed time when Mr. Darcy stopped the curricle before the inn in Lambton. The moment the horse stood still, Mr. Darcy descended; he strode to Elizabeth’s side and reached up to hand her down.

What Elizabeth felt as Mr. Darcy took hold of her hand, she could not quite understand, though the fluttering in her breast suggested her feelings were warmer than she had expected. There was little she could do now to inspect her feelings, not faced with his earnestness as she was, but the sight of his care and attention to her wellbeing would have melted a heart far harder than hers.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth once she stood on the ground again. “Had I returned to Hertfordshire without seeing Pemberley’s grounds, I would have regretted the missed opportunity. You live on a beautiful estate.”

“High praise, indeed,” replied Mr. Darcy. “Earning your approval is as precious as it is perilous.”

“Perilous?” echoed Elizabeth with a raised eyebrow. “I was not aware that others might see me as dangerous, Mr. Darcy.”

“Danger, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, leaning in a little closer, “depends entirely on what one has to lose. And perhaps upon whether one can inflict a wound.”

“And you believe me capable of such cruelty?”

“Cruelty? No. Quite the opposite. That is what makes it dangerous.”

“Contrary to your belief,” replied Elizabeth, “I suspect the danger is all on your side, Mr. Darcy.”

The gentleman did not pursue the subject. Instead, he grasped her hand and bowed over it. “I know your relations will return soon—you must wish to refresh yourself before they do, so I will wish you a good day. Unless I am mistaken, tomorrow is to be your last day in Lambton.”

Never had Elizabeth known such regret as this. “It is, Mr. Darcy. Uncle must see to his business in London, and I must return to Longbourn. We shall not go directly home, for there are some few more sights we mean to see, but our holiday must soon end.”

“Georgiana will join me in expressing regret at your going,” replied Mr. Darcy. “Do you know if the Gardiners have any plans?”

“I do not,” replied Elizabeth, “though I do not think they do.”

“Then I hope you will forgive me if I express the hope that you will spend at least part of the day at Pemberley. Perhaps dinner?”

Elizabeth nodded. “I shall convey your invitation, Mr. Darcy.”

“Then I shall stop by the inn tomorrow morning.”

With another bow, the gentleman said his last farewell and then departed, Elizabeth watching until the curricle disappeared around the bend in the road. Though she was of a mind to stay there and ponder Mr. Darcy, she sighed and turned to the inn. That was when she discovered a most unpleasant surprise waiting for her.

“Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth upon catching sight of the woman when she entered. “What a . . . surprise it is to see you.”

She had been sitting on a chair close to the entrance, appearing annoyed, contemptuous, and uncomfortable all at once. When Elizabeth entered the inn, she rose and addressed her in a voice devoid of emotion.

“It is time that we spoke, Miss Eliza. Perhaps you would convey me to the suite you are occupying so we may have a little privacy.”

Elizabeth had little interest in a conversation that would devolve into an argument, or outright insults. Yet she did not wish to decline altogether, as she suspected Miss Bingley was more than capable of abusing her there near the entrance of the inn where they were staying. Even now, she noted the innkeeper, a portly man with ruddy cheeks, eyeing them as if he would not tolerate a disturbance in his establishment. Elizabeth could not blame him.

“Though I cannot imagine we have much to say to each other,” replied Elizabeth, “we may speak in private if you wish. Our chambers are this way.”

Elizabeth did not miss the slight nod of the innkeeper as she led Miss Bingley to the stairs, but she did not try to acknowledge him. The room was on the upper floor near the back of the inn—Elizabeth directed Miss Bingley there, her pace unhurried, her back straight. When they reached the door, she opened it and gestured for Miss Bingley to precede her, which the woman did, sweeping into the room in a swirl of skirts as if she were the virgin queen herself. Inside, she cast a contemptuous glance at the room, then turned to Elizabeth as if to size her up.

“Whatever you wish to say,” said Elizabeth when Miss Bingley did not speak at once, “I suggest you do it now. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner will return soon, and we will depart for our evening engagement soon after.”

“My brother forbade me from calling you out at Pemberley,” said Miss Bingley, raking her eyes over Elizabeth in contempt, “but here you have no protection.”

“And you suppose I need protection?” asked Elizabeth when Miss Bingley attempted to speak further.