Page 41 of Yearning

“Give me but a moment,” Elizabeth called back. “I shall be back to you by and by.”

He shook his head at her. “You cannot leave it alone, I suppose, my lady?” Oh, he had never addressed her thus.

She bit down on her lip. “It seems my husband is not going to be home when I get back to our house in Hellig, and I know not how long he will be kept away with his business.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I think you know,” she said. “There is a very nearby house, not a large one, of course, but that might suit you, because you cannot easily navigate stairs, I do not think. Anyway, I happen to know that the owner is eager to let it out to someone.”

His eyes widened.

“It is only that I am convicted with the certainty that you should be there,” she said.

“Be there when your babe is born?” he said, and his voice was not strong.

She nodded. “Well, not in the room exactly, but close by, anyway.”

“That’s not a good idea at all,” he rasped.

“I think it is,” she said, and she scampered back to Jane without saying goodbye to him.

He did not call after her.

She did not look back to see if he was looking after her or attempting to conceal himself or anything of that nature.

When she got back to Jane, her sister was holding Ferdy on her hip, her brows knitted together. “I had thought I saw him a time or two, but I told myself that I was imagining it,” Jane said, sounding quite worried.

“I was only saying goodbye,” said Elizabeth. “We are not anything to each other anymore, of course, Jane, but in some ways, he will always be…”

“Yes, of course,” said her sister, giving her a sad smile. “Of course.”

IT WAS NOT an easy thing, what she was asking of him.

Mr. Darcy knew that it would be quite an undertaking. He did not travel as a general rule. The one trip he had taken to see her before had been so difficult that he had eschewed doing so since. He stayed in Pemberley, and if anyone wished to see him, they could come to him.

He had missed all manner of things. Georgiana’s wedding, for instance. He had not been there. He had not gone to Lady Catherine’s funeral, either. His aunt had died suddenly, likely her heart giving out, it was thought. Anne, in the wake of her mother’s death, seemed to be making a remarkable recovery, no longer nearly as sickly as she had been while her mother was alive. Anne had inherited Rosings, of course, and she was throwing balls and dinner parties and garden parties and all manner of lively events. She was, by all accounts, rosy cheeked and happy.

It was interesting how Lady Catherine had lost all interest in his marrying her daughter in the wake of his accident.

Not interesting, really, Darcy supposed.

Quite to be expected, truly.

There was no point in the union if it could not produce offspring, after all.

But he found the idea of Anne free and happy to be pleasant, even as he was sad about his aunt’s end. She could be imperious and ridiculous, of course, but she was also his mother’s sister. He had loved her.

Missing Georgiana’s wedding had been sad, but he had rightly pointed out that it would be difficult for everyone for him to travel. It would put out his servants and anyone who had to host him.

Everyone had understood.

So, now, how was he to convince his staff that he had to let some small house close to Elizabeth? That they all needed to prepare him for traveling, and that he must bring along enough staff to assist him in this new place—or hire people there, he supposed, whatever seemed easiest? And then, how was he to bring it all about?

She was asking a lot.

It warmed him.

As a general rule, no one asked anything of him these days. People assumed he couldn’t do anything, and to have her assume that he could accomplish this, it made him feel like the man he used to be, and he knew he would accomplish it.