He lifted both of her hands, placing a kiss on the back of one, then the other. “Shall we, Mrs. Darcy?” he asked in a low, rumbling voice.
Elizabeth was lost in the sensation of the kisses and the way his deep voice made her shiver. “I never expected to have this second chance with you, but I will always be thankful for it,” she said quietly as she gazed up at him. “To spend Christmas as your wife is beyond anything I could dream of even a fortnight ago. Yes, please, Fitzwilliam. Let us return to Netherfield, for you have, I think, much to show me.”
His eyes bore into hers. “We have much to show one another. And it may take us all night.”
Christmas dinner was a loud, merry affair. It was almost too much for Darcy, and he reached under the table for Elizabeth’s hand. She linked her fingers through his and held his hand in her lap. He took a breath, feeling calmer.
Even when he was a child, dinners at Pemberley or Matlock, the earl’s home, had been quiet, formal affairs. With the Gardiner, Phillips, Lucas, Goulding, and Long families gathered together to celebrate Christmas and his marriage to Elizabeth, there were many conversations being held at once, and he was overwhelmed by being at the centre of all the activity.
Elizabeth answered the questions that were tossed at them for the most part, though he managed to respond several times on his own.
“My cousin and my sister will visit us in London in January,” he said to Mrs. Bennet. “Because of the possibility of a storm, I asked them not to travel.”
Mrs. Bennet had apparently been disappointed not to host the son of an earl at her Christmas table, but she was mollified by his explanation.
“It is a shame, for the storm eased in time, but I would not have taken the chance either,” she said sadly, nodding. “And at least the roads are clear enough for Miss Bingley’s journey to Scarborough.” She smiled at Miss Bingley, who was seated between Mrs. Long and Mr. Goulding. Darcy could see by the set of her jaw that she was miserable, but no one paid her any heed.
“Indeed,” Miss Bingley replied flatly. “It shall be quite comfortable, I expect.”
“And Mr. Darcy, when do you and Elizabeth plan to travel to town?”
“Sometime after the first of the year, Mrs. Bennet,” he said, grateful for an inquiry that was simple to answer. “My aunt and uncle wish to meet Elizabeth before the season begins.”
The letter from his uncle had been surprisingly sanguine. It might have had something to do with the viscount’s newly announced engagement. Darcy was grateful.
“Your uncle and aunt, the earl and countess?” Mrs. Bennet asked, raising her voice just a touch.
Elizabeth sighed beside him, but Darcy would not deny her mother a chance to boast a little. He was sympathetic to her having lost her youngest daughter to a man that did not deserve her, and still felt some guilt attached to that entire affair.
“Yes, madam,” he replied. “They have heard much to Elizabeth’s benefit from my cousin, the Honourable Colonel Fitzwilliam, and my sister, Miss Darcy, whom Elizabeth met when she and the Gardiners were in Lambton over the summer.”
Mrs. Bennet could not have been any happier to have him elucidate the connection. She accepted the congratulations of the neighbours seated to either side of her and smiled atElizabeth as though she had always been her mother’s favourite and not her father’s.
Elizabeth squeezed his hand. “You are becoming a bit obsequious, Mr. Darcy,” she whispered to him. “Whatever will you say to my mother next? Will you compliment her for the glazing on the windows or the exquisite fireplace, which I can assure you did not cost eight-hundred pounds?”
“What are you on about, wife?” he muttered back.
“If you had ever heard Mr. Collins waxing rhapsodic about Rosings, you would not ask.”
“Are you comparing me to your cousin?”
“I would never.”
“I should certainly hope not.”
“Although you do share something in common.”
“I am afraid to inquire.”
“Perhaps you are wise.”
Did she truly intend to keep it from him? He narrowed his eyes at her, and she lifted a hand to pat his cheek.
“You both proposed to me,” she informed him.
That malodorous, bad-mannered popinjay had proposed? TohisElizabeth? Collins had been married to Miss Lucas by April, which meant that Collins had proposed before Darcy. Further, that meant that when Elizabeth said Darcy was the last man she should ever marry . . . thelastman?
He stood, using their linked hands to lift her to her feet in a graceful twirl. Elizabeth was surprised, but did not protest, only watched him curiously as he pulled her out of the dining room and into the hall, where he positioned her under the archway that led back to the drawing room.
