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But then he had said he loved her.

Was Charlotte right? Was he actually in love with her? In which case, her accepting his marriage proposal for such mercenary reasons felt diabolical.

She shuddered, questioning everything about the last two days.

"Thank you," she stuttered. She glanced up at the clear sky and said, "I worry it might rain. I think perhaps we should return to the vicarage."

He frowned in confusion.

She did not repeat herself, but simply turned to return to the parsonage. She needed to write to her mother, after all. So she did need to be getting back, whatever the weather.

And she rather thought she needed to rethink everything.

Chapter Twenty

Two days later, they were in the carriage headed for Meryton.

It was rather odd to be in such close confines with her, having never been so before. He had paid one of his aunt's maids to come on the journey as chaperone, but she sat quietly next to Miss Bennet, watching out the window, seemingly fascinated by the scenery. Well, he thought, she had probably never been so far away from home.

Miss Bennet – or Elizabeth, as he kept reminding himself to think of her – sat opposite, and she had been quiet since they left Hunsford. Her goodbye with her friend had clearly been hard, although he did not think she was sad to leave.

Sir William and Maria Lucas had decided to both stay another fortnight, with Lizzy leaving early, and so they had waved them off along with Mr and Mrs Collins. Sir William had promised that they would be home in time for the wedding.

Darcy watched Elizabeth as the carriage rattled on.

She really was beautiful. He did not know how he had not seen it at that first dance. He had said something terrible about there not being a woman handsome enough to tempt him, words he could hardly bear to remember.

And yet, as he watched her looking out of the window, just as interested, it seemed, in the scenery as the young maid, he thought she might be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

And she was to be his wife?

He smiled to himself.

"We shall probably beat my letters home," Elizabeth said thoughtfully, glancing at him. "So my family might be somewhat surprised at our arrival."

"I hope it shall not be an unpleasant surprise," he said.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, no, I'm sure it won't be, but a surprise nonetheless. If you would allow me to go in first and explain everything, I think that might be preferable."

Darcy nodded. "Of course, if you wish. I will drop you off and go straight to Netherfield and then return later."

She frowned slightly. "You'll be staying at Netherfield? I hadn't thought..."

Darcy nodded. "I have written to Bingley, but he said I could make use of it at any time, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Did he imagine it, or was there a pained expression upon her face whenever he mentioned Bingley? Did she not like the fellow? He could not imagine it, for Bingley was entirely too amiable at times.

Or perhaps he was the man she would have preferred to marry.

No, after all, it was her sister Bingley had been interested in, although sadly, she did not seem as interested as he.

"Will Mr Bingley come to the wedding?" she asked.

It seemed odd, the way she spoke of it, as if it was someone else's wedding and not her own. He supposed it was hard to think of something that was a complete unknown to both of them as personal.

"I hope so," he said. "I'll admit I'm a man of few friends, and he would be the one to stand up with me. I will ask him to come, if he can."

Elizabeth nodded. "And your sister will come?"