Page 34

I hope this letter finds you enjoying the peace of your library. I write to inform you that I have consented to be courted by Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley.

I anticipate your immediate shock, and I fully expect you to retreat behind your book for an hour to digest the information. I only ask that you reserve your judgement until I return to Hertfordshire. He is an excellent man, Papa. He possesses a remarkably dry wit, he treats Uncle Edward with respect, and, perhaps most importantly for your consideration, his library spans three enormous rooms and contains first editions you have only ever dreamed of reading. I believe you will like him very much when you have the opportunity to converse with him properly.

I ask for your blessing, and send you my fondest love.

Your affectionate daughter,

Elizabeth

She pulled one last sheet of paper in front of her. She tapped her quill on her chin, considering her mother’s sensibilities. Brevity and financial facts were the only necessities.

Dear Mamma,

Mr Darcy of Pemberley is courting me. He has ten thousand a year and a house larger than Meryton. Please ask Hill to fetch your salts.

Your dutiful daughter,

Elizabeth

She stacked the three missives neatly together, ringing the bell pull for Maggie to take them down for the morning post. She was free to enjoy this beautiful house, surrounded by her family, and allow the master of Pemberley to woo her.

The first day of the official courtship commenced in the breakfast parlour.

Elizabeth paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. Mr Darcy held a plate in his hand, transferring an assortment of pastries from a chafing dish.

The warmth in his gaze was immediate and devastating. He set the plate down, crossed the room, and bowed to her.

“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth.” He offered his arm.

“Good morning, Mr Darcy.” Elizabeth placed her hand on his sleeve, allowing him to lead her to her chair. “Are you always awake this early?”

“Yes. I am an early riser, but especially last night I found sleep elusive.” He pulled her chair out, waiting until she was seated before taking his own place at the head of the table. “My mind was occupied with plans for the day.”

Aunt Madeline rolled her husband’s chair closer. “Plans, Mr Darcy? What are you planning?”

“I am planning a menu, Mr Gardiner.” Mr Darcy gestured to the plate of pastries he had prepared, sliding it to Elizabeth. “I consulted with the cook at dawn. I recalled Miss Elizabeth expressing a fondness for apricot tarts during our stay at Netherfield last year. I requested them for this morning.”

Aunt Madeline paused with her teacup halfway to her lips, exchanging a delighted glance with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth found three perfectly baked, golden apricot tarts inside her plate. A rush of affection flooded her veins. He had remembered a passing comment she made months ago, in a house filled with tension and animosity, and had acted upon it before the sun had fully risen.

“You have a very good memory, sir.” Elizabeth took a tart. “And I am deeply appreciative.”

“You must pace yourself, Mr Darcy.” Uncle Edward buttered a thick slice of bread. “Courtship is a test of endurance. If you begin with bespoke pastries on the very first morning, she will expect spun sugar swans by Thursday. You must hold something in reserve.”

“I have a great many things in reserve, sir.” Mr Darcy kept his attention fixed upon Elizabeth.

Georgiana appeared in the doorway, carrying a large sketchbook. “Am I interrupting the pastries? Mrs Annesley has permitted me an hour of freedom before we must review our history dates.”

“You are just in time.” Elizabeth gestured to the empty chair beside her. “Mr Darcy has procured the most wonderful tarts, and Uncle Edward is delivering lectures on the proper pacing of romantic endeavours.”

“I have a lot of experience in the matter.” Uncle Edward took a large bite of his toast. “I wooed my wife with a wheel of fine cheddar cheese. It demonstrated practicality and good taste.”

Aunt Madeline sighed, shaking her head. “I accepted you despite the cheese, Edward. Please do not encourage Mr Darcy to present my niece with dairy products.”

Bates entered, interrupting the culinary debate.

Elizabeth braced herself, checking the floor for any stray obstacles or hovering wolfhounds.