“I return to Mansfield in three days’ time.” He held her eyes as he added, “I would like to see you again before I go.”
Elizabeth understood what he was saying and not saying. If he did want to pursue her, to potentially reach an understanding, he was not in a position to do so right now. Her aunt, in a very unsubtle moment, explained John’s circumstances to her. Though his family were reasonably wealthy and he had excelled at Oxford, he was still the son of a tenant farmer and that had and would continue to be an obstacle as he sought a living of his own. For now, he was a curate for a vicar in Mansfield. It was not a lifestyle that could support a wife.
But he wanted to see her. He could not promise anything nor ask anything of her, but he wanted to see her. It wasthrilling in a way that confused her. It might be less thrilling and confusing if there was a decision to be made, but there was no question as of yet and he wanted to see her.
“What do you propose?” Elizabeth asked and then blushed at her choice of words.
He chuckled softly before answering. “Perhaps we could happen to be in Lambton at the same time?”
“I am not comfortable with deception,” she said quickly.
“Nor I, Miss Elizabeth. I apologise for seeming to imply differently. I would not be comfortable with any meeting that your aunt and uncle were not aware of. I simply meant we could meet in Lambton and visit the shops or stroll together in the company of Miss Bennet or Mrs. Gardiner.”
There were obstacles beyond simple financial ability, Elizabeth knew. John was the son of a tenant farmer. He and his brother both had Oxford educations, but this was merely a tenuous step into a new social circle, the circle Elizabeth occupied as the daughter of a gentleman. She wanted to tell him it mattered not to her. If she fell in love with a tenant farmer, she was determined she would marry him. And she still felt that way. But the other, to her, much larger obstacle was that she never imagined she could fall in love with any such man because she always imagined she would love a gentleman. A very specific gentleman. It was something of a muddle.
“I will speak to my aunt.”
Elizabeth was momentarily discomposed by the wide smile which this elicited.
“If she is amenable, I can be at the confectioneries the day after tomorrow at noon.”
“But if she is not, I have no way to notify you,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“I will take that chance.”
“Very well,” Elizabeth answered. He smiled, bade her good day and then was gone with a nod and a smile.
How was she to understand what had happened and, more importantly, what she felt about what had happened? As the carriage meandered along the road to Pemberley, Elizabeth rested her head by the window and briefly took in the pinkening sky before her thoughts prevented any enjoyment of the spectacular view. By the time she arrived at Pemberley’s front door, she had determined she must seek counsel from Jane and Georgiana. Jane had some experience in these matters, and Georgiana possessed a wisdom beyond her years that Elizabeth greatly valued.
Her plan was thwarted immediately upon her arrival. After a maid came to take her outer things and inform her that her sister and Miss Darcy were in the latter’s chambers, Mrs. Reynolds bustled into the entryway.
“Good evening, Miss Elizabeth. The master asked that you be shown to the library when you arrived.”
“Are my sister and Miss Darcy there?”
“No, only the master. He wanted to have a word with you if you are amenable.”
“Yes, of course,” Elizabeth answered without a second thought. She was intensely curious as to why Darcy would need to speak with her but insisted her mind not run wild with possibilities. Her imagination, aided by extensive reading, was in moments like this a blessing and a curse. In the two minutes it took to walk behind Mrs. Reynolds, from the foyer to the library, too many ideas occurred to her about why Mr. Darcy wanted to see her, from the romantic to the mundane.
“Mr. Darcy, Miss Elizabeth,” Mrs. Reynolds announced as she preceded Elizabeth through the open door.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”
The housekeeper nodded to Elizabeth and left the room. The door remained open, and Elizabeth moved further into one of her favourite spaces in Pemberley. The shelves and windows, chairs and tables, and carpets and knick-knacks were all quite familiar. It was in this room where she felt Mr. Darcy most acutely.
“Will you have a seat?” Darcy asked, indicating a pair of matching chairs in front of the fireplace.
Once she was settled, he took the seat opposite. He was not looking at her, his attention fixed on the object he held—a small wooden box—so Elizabeth seized the opportunity to take in the sight of him. Their brief exchange at the picnic had been their only conversation and the only time they were even somewhat close to one another.
He had changed his clothes. He now wore his usual dark jacket—it was blue tonight, a crisp white cravat and dark blue trousers. His hair was as long as she had ever seen it; no doubthis valet would soon chop his curls, as seemed to be a habit each summer. Right now, they perched atop his head and cascaded down just below his ears, the only unruly and almost out-of-place thing about him. His skin was slightly tan, and she spotted a new freckle just above his left ear, which nearly matched the one on his forehead.
As she catalogued this discovery, she looked back across his face and was caught by his deep brown eyes. Apparently, he was looking at her now and likely had been watching her watch him for some time. Cursing the blush she felt invade her cheeks, she said, “Mrs. Reynolds said you wanted to see me?” She was trying to inject bored curiosity into her tone. She feared her voice betrayed her nervous excitement instead.
“Yes, I did. Or rather, I do.” He sounded unsure.
“Perhaps you could enlighten me as to why, or shall I guess?” she teased, attempting to put him at ease.
It worked. A little. He offered her a small smile before looking back down at the box in his hands. Holding it out to her, he said, “It is a birthday gift.” As Elizabeth tried to hide her surprise, he added, “From my father.”
