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Her father had hung a swing for the amusement of his young daughters near the grassy bank of the stream. Elizabeth often walked along the path but rarely lingered at the site of so much childish happiness. Now she removed her sturdy half-boots and stockings and sat on the swing, dangling her bare feet in the slightly damp grass. She did not move but simply sat, resting her head against one of the swing’s rough ropes and recalling childhood memories of the place.
As the sky darkened, she considered retiring. Then someone called her name. Startled, she stared at a little-used dirt road that ran along the stream, where Mr. Darcy was silhouetted against the rapidly graying sky. “Elizabeth, this is a pleasant surprise.”
Elizabeth hopped down from the swing as he strolled toward her. “I did not expect to see you again today!” she exclaimed.
“I knocked at the back door, and I fear I disturbed Hill’s after-dinner nap,” Mr. Darcy said with a chagrined smile. “She may suspect I am sweet on you.”
Hopefully, it was too dark for her blush to show.
“But,” he continued, “she mentioned that you often walked along the path that leads to the stream. I was very desirous of seeing you.”
When he stared down at her bare feet, Elizabeth immediately scrambled to find her boots. But Mr. Darcy grabbed her hand. “Do not be uneasy.” She froze and glanced up at him. “I find the sight…charming.”
Elizabeth did not don her shoes but carried them to a crumbling stone wall where they could both sit. She knew that if anyone happened by, it would appear they had arranged an assignation. But the prospect would not prevent her from enjoying his company. His mere proximity caused a frisson of excitement to course down her spine—in delighted anticipation of more kisses. Somehow he had discovered a hitherto unknown wanton side of Elizabeth.
I must be in love with him. This fluttery, excited anticipation has never occurred with another man.
Taking her hand, he gently kissed the back, but then he returned it to her lap. “We must restrain ourselves for the moment,” he said with evident regret. “If we kiss, I fear we will not stop, and there are things we must discuss. Did you have an opportunity to speak with Mrs. Collins?”
Elizabeth quickly related the whole of her conversation with Charlotte.
Mr. Darcy nodded. “That is promising. Do you believe Mrs. Collins would be a good caretaker for Longbourn?”
“Yes, Charlotte would be an excellent landowner, and the tenants would respect her. I am certain she would continue the improvements I have started. I can hardly think of anyone better suited to run Longbourn.” Discussing the prospect reignited the flicker of hope she had experienced before.
Mr. Darcy frowned down at his hands. “However, Mr. Collins remains the primary obstacle. We must somehow convince him to relocate to Rosings…without revealing it is the one thing you desire above all others. I do not know how such a man is to be worked on.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “If I could pay him to move, I would. But no doubt he is too proud to accept money from me.”
“Ridding Longbourn of Collins will only solve part of the problem,” Elizabeth mused. “I have no doubt he will continue to live beyond his means—well, beyond Longbourn’s. Even at Rosings he will be a drain on the coffers. The enhanced farming methods have improved profits, but most of that wealth will be required to repair the cottages. It will be years before the estate is truly profitable.” She bit her lip. “I do not mind for my own sake, but I cannot help thinking o
f the consequences for my sisters.”
He regarded her intently. “How so?”
“They have little enough in the way of dowries. I will not leave my sisters alone and unprotected.”
Unexpectedly, Mr. Darcy’s hand—large and warm—engulfed hers. Skin against skin. The sensation was new but not unpleasant.
“If you would possibly consent to be my wife…” His voice was deep and sonorous. “We might bring your sisters to Pemberley with us.”
“Mr. Darcy?” Had she heard him correctly?
“Elizabeth,” he said in a somewhat exasperated tone, “I believe when a woman has kissed a man as passionately as you have kissed me, she is entitled to call him by his given name.”
Gazing up at him through her lashes, she swallowed hard. “William.” How could something so simple simultaneously feel so wrong and so right? “Would you really take in my sisters?”
“Pemberley certainly has sufficient space, and Georgiana would be pleased to have additional female companionship. She talks often of meeting Kitty.”
“That is a most generous sentiment, Mr. Dar—William. But I cannot guarantee that any of my sisters will ever marry. Their portions are so small—”
“My dear.” His voice was firm but gentle. “Once I am your husband, I may give them dowries.”
“Oh. Oh!” Suddenly Elizabeth realized what he was offering. A whole new vista unfolded before her. Not only could he improve her life, but he also could make a difference for her entire family. How could she refuse—particularly when she longed so desperately to accept? “You are the soul of generosity, although Mary has often expressed her desire never to wed. I had been thinking I might find a place for her as a governess or lady’s companion.”
“I could help find a position for her, or she could live with us. But surely Kitty will want a dowry…”
“And Jane,” she prompted. Was he forgetting Jane? Above anyone she deserved a fine dowry; then she need not marry Mr. Shaw.
“Yes, about Jane…” William averted his eyes. Did he not want to take Jane to Pemberley? It was hard to imagine. Nobody disliked Jane.
