“You mean like Lord Andrew does with you?” Charlotte responded. Now it was Jane’s turn to blush deeply.
“And Janey met Lord Hilldale many months ago,” Elizabeth pointed out.
She could not be with the man she wanted to be with, but she would do what she could to make sure those she loved were able to find men of their choice.
Elizabeth stopped in her tracks. At the instant she thought about Jane and Charlotte being able to make free choices about who, if anyone, they ever married; a handsome face invaded her thoughts. It was the face of the man she had been dreaming of since meeting him, regardless of his insulting her.
“Lizzy, are you well? Should we return to the manor house?” Jane asked concernedly.
“Excuse me, I was wool-gathering,” Elizabeth hedged.
Neither her sister nor her friend thought that was what had caused Elizabeth to freeze, but they would not press her until she was ready to share with them—that is if ever she was able. She already had too many choices stolen from her and they would not do anything to force her into a confidence.
Although she was walking again, Elizabeth was thinking of the interactions she had with Master Darcy—William. The times she sat in Pemberley’s magnificent library, usually with Mary, and sometimes others as well, accompanying her, the Darcy heir seemed to find his way there as well. So far they had debated one of Shakespeare’s histories and a volume of poetry by Lord Byron.
He never discounted her opinions because of her sex. In fact, he treated her with respect for her intellect. As often as she conceded his point was correct, he did the same with what she had been arguing.
Whenever, and it had not been many days from the time they first met, she was in his company, it just felt right. Unfortunately, they could never be more than friends. Neither of them would think of flouting propriety or contravening her marriage vows, at least the one to keep herself unto her husband and none other.
‘If only…’ Elizabeth began to think, but then she stopped herself. She reminded herself how she had told Janey about seeing the world as it was, not how she wanted it to be.
She had to take her own advice. Who knew what would happen to her loathsome husband or how long it would be before he went to where he belonged? Hell!
And if she was freed from the bondage which was her marriage, would William still be available then? It was not like she could expect him to wait for her for an undeterminable amount of time. Besides this, she did not know his feelings on the subject. Even if she were free now, would he want to pursue her?
Surely he, like all men, would want his wife to come to him pure on their wedding night. Elizabeth was positive William would not want a wife who was sullied, as she was. As always occurred when she reached this conclusion, she felt an overarching sadness descend over her.
Jane looked at Charlotte questioningly. Charlotte shrugged. Neither of them knew why Lizzy looked like she had been gripped by melancholy all of a sudden. As hard as it was, they stuck to their resolve not to press her. Since they were almost at the house anyway, Jane decided she would talk to AuntMaddie to see if her aunt had any idea what caused Lizzy’s mood to change so suddenly.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Fitzwilliam Darcy was well aware he was losing his heart. The problem was not only that she was a duchess, but she was married, to the most worthless, vile man in the realm, but married nonetheless.
When they were together it felt like his heart was whole. How was it his heart had gone and settled on one who could never be his?
As much as he knew no other woman would ever measure up to Lady Elizabeth, he was certain that for the continuation of the Darcy line, he would have to take a wife one day. It would be a difficult search as everyone would be measured againstElizabeth, and he was sure they would all be found wanting.
Yes, he had only turned four and twenty in January past, so he was still relatively young and had time. Would time erase the ache of not being able to be with the woman with whom he was falling in love?
Until he had to cross that particular bridge, he revelled in spending time with her and was amazed by her intelligence. Not only was she well read, but she played chess as well. Her skills were far from rudimentary. In the days since she had been in residence, they had played four games and each of them had won one with two ending in draws.
He had been a chess champion at Cambridge which made her playing that much more impressive.
She was one of the most compassionate people he knew to the extent that she had agreed to meet with Pemberley’s steward, Mr. Lucas Wickham, and tell him all about his son and what she knew of his employment with the Duke.
During the meeting in his father’s study, she had related how she had seen some subtle, although small, shifts in George Wickham’s behaviour as it related to his treatment of her. She could not be sure, but based on her husband not ringing a peel over her head, she believed his man no longer reported anything the Duke would find objectionable about herself.
If her goodness and intellect were not enough, he knew of no more beautiful young lady. Her extremely fine, emerald-green eyes, radiated intelligence, flashing when she was angered, absolutely bewitched him.
On several occasions, he had heard her say her older sister was far better looking than herself. William could not agree with that assessment, Lady Elizabeth was, by far, the most handsome woman of his acquaintance.
He did not begrudge either of his cousins the burgeoning friendships Andrew and Lawrence had with Jane Bennet and Miss Lucas respectively.
‘If only she was not married to that corpulent bastard,’ William thought to himself. He did not wish the damned Duke dead, but he knew he would not complain if the man did them all a favour and shuffled off the mortal coil.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“You have told me all is planned for the morrow, but I want you to go over everything again,” the Duke demanded when Wickham stood before him.
