Page 42 of A Prudent Engagement

She liked Mr. Darcy’s company. She liked the possessive way in which he had held her. And any feeling of frustration at how he had explained his past hesitation must be softened by the sad tale of how his sister had been hurt by Mr. Wickham. He had trusted her. He had told her the whole story, and she had seen how it hurt him to speak of it.

Elizabeth wondered whether telling her that story had made Mr. Darcy feel closer to her, in the way that telling him stories about her father had made her feel more as though she could trust him.

No, contrary to what Elizabeth would have imagined a few days ago, marrying Mr. Darcy certainly would not be a fate to mourn.

When Elizabeth entered the drawing room, the crowd had lessened, but many people still stood and sat about drinking and talking. Her mama dabbed her face while speaking to Lady Lucas and Charlotte, and Lydia had a colour to her cheeks that suggested she had indulged in drink.

Elizabeth was suddenly pleased that Mr. Darcy had not returned with them, since she feared that her youngest sister would do something embarrassing in front of him, like she had at the Netherfield ball.

Before Elizabeth joined the conversation between her mother and Charlotte, Mrs. Long came up to her and asked whether they had thought about renting Purvis Lodge—a matter of particular interest to that lady as it belonged to her brother.

Elizabeth only half paid attention and told Mrs. Long to ask her mother what she thought about the matter. She no longer needed to fret about such things; Mr. Darcy would rent Longbourn for them to stay in.

Elizabeth’s home would change, no matter what.

But that would be no cause for mourning. It was the way of nature that the time came when a woman left the home of her birth and joined the household of her husband.

She did not know much about Pemberley, except that it was universally praised and had an excellent library.

There. I shall tell Papa that I am marrying him for his books.

Except, no.

He could not hear anything she said to him. He never would.

She knew that. Why did she keep forgetting? She hated it. It hurt every time she thought about her papa as if he were still there.

Elizabeth talked and talked for the rest of the afternoon.

She seldom had the leisure to contemplate her great news. There were conversations about her father, questions about what they would do and how they would live, and the occasional person told her that it was a great pity she had not already married since now they were to be so poor it would be impossible for her to find a decent suitor.

Several people wondered at Mr. Darcy having been there at all.

Slowly the hour grew late, and the low sun began to redden the sky. The drawing room had remained well supplied with cake and coffee for their guests throughout the day; however, acting for his sister, Mr. Gardiner began to make sounds which told those who were not particular friends that while they were always most welcome to stay as long as they might possibly want, it was time for them to cease having the desire to stay longer.

Elizabeth wanted to tell Charlotte her great news first since Charlotte was the one who had done the most to support her in the matter. So, she offered to walk her friend home since the rest of the Lucases had already departed.

Her mother made no complaint to Elizabeth doing this, likely assuming that she either meant to ask Charlotte whether she could live with her when her mother and sisters moved into their tiny dwelling, or to in some great way thank Charlotte for her help in paying for the funeral.

Elizabeth did give her friend those thanks as soon as they left the house, saying, “It was very kind of you to help Mama pay for the gloves.”

Charlotte made the proper bow of her head in acknowledgement. “Now, Eliza, you wish to tell me something. I see it in your eyes.”

“Me? What could I possibly have to say?”

Elizabeth started grinning.

It was so strange to be happy, as well as sad, on such a day.

Charlotte was the easiest person to tell about her engagement. Her friend approved and understood the way that Elizabeth had been waved back and forth thinking about it.

Jane disapproved, and her mama would not understand at all.

“A surprising smile,” Charlotte said. “I do wonder what could have prompted it—or taken you from the drawing room for such a great length of time. You were gone for more than an hour. And with that young fellow. The one whom everyone dislikes for being so tall and rich and handsome—though for my part, I think those to be virtues.”

Elizabeth shoved Charlotte’s arm laughingly. “He is a very comforting gentleman. But do you think many people noticed?”

“Stop beating about the bush.”