“I have no intention of going through with Aunt Catherine’s plans,” Darcy replied, “and I never have.”
Fitzwilliam shrugged. “You are not getting any younger, old chap.”
Darcy chuckled in disbelief. “You are only a twelve-month younger than I!”
“Yes, I am not getting any younger, either. It is time we both found pretty wives to aid us in passing on our names.” His laughter echoed through the park. After a few moments, he turned serious. “Pemberley deserves to be alive with children’s laughter again.”
Darcy shook his head. He agreed with his cousin. He longed to have an heir, even a dozen children running about, as his mother had wished. However, he would not be marrying his cousin. Poor Ann. Aunt Catherine’s daughter was an intelligent woman, but her frail health had prevented her from attaining the accomplishments he had always casually considered a requirement for any woman he would marry. More importantly, there simply was not that connection between them that Darcy wished to find in his future wife. He and Ann had always understood each other well, not least in their mutual determination not to wed. But the thought of speaking words of love to Ann, of touching his lips to hers, was simply bizarre.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet, on the other hand —
No, he should not think of her. Darcy cleared his throat, looking guilty as they continued their ride. Colonel Fitzwilliam shot him a sideways look. “Will you retrieve Georgiana for the visit? I am sure our aunt would like to look her over before she makes her debut in London society.”
Darcy barely heard his cousin. He glanced over at him with a questioning look, then finally caught up with what he had been trying to ask. “Georgiana? Oh, no. She will remain in Meryton for the winter. I suppose I shall make my way there after the supper party with our aunt.” He had begun to worry over her. It had been nearly ten days since Darcy had arrived inLondon, and still he had not received an answer to his letter. She had begged him to write to her and let her know he had arrived safely, and he had done so without delay. It was most unlike Georgiana to be so tardy in sending a response.
As likely as was not, she was too busy meeting new acquaintances and playing the pianoforte. Perhaps it would be best to check on her to see how things were progressing. But he knew the real reason he wanted to return to Meryton, and it was not for the beautiful countryside. It was not even concern over Georgiana, or at least, not entirely. He could not seem to stop thinking about Elizabeth Bennet. What if he had been wrong — no, that was impossible. Mrs Younge had not thought there was any doubt about what she had overheard. It was foolish of him to think of it. Darcy simply did not like the way things had ended. He found himself wishing to make amends. Though his indignation was justified, the harshness with which he had expressed it was not.
“My, you are distracted today, are you not?” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. He chuckled. “What has you so entangled in dreamland?”
Darcy had no intention of talking over the whole humiliating episode with his cousin. He felt a stab of guilt at the mere remembrance of how he had treated Elizabeth. He had let his anger get the better of him. And had he truly done the right thing in forbidding any continuation of the friendship between Georgiana and Elizabeth? If she truly felt nothing for his sister and wanted only to use her, there was no alternative. But if she had sincerely been Georgiana’s friend and had only been led a little astray by her mother into mercenary thinking, matters would be quite different. That would be an error, to be sure, but a forgivable one.
“Suffice to say, I wounded someone and have not been able to see my way clear of it.”
“Well, was it justified or not?” Colonel Fitzwilliam pulled up his horse and Darcy did the same.
Looking out over the pond and the gathering clouds above them, he mused how very like the dark waters his heart felt. He could not see clearly what the right answer was. “That is the problem, my friend. I do not know. It was in the service of my sister, but I still have not been able to bring myself to a place of peace about it.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam thought for a moment. “Well, with no more details, I would say that you should go to that person, whoever they may be, and speak to them again. Perhaps you will get a clearer picture of their intentions since you are further removed from the incident now.”
Darcy nodded, but said nothing. After a long while, Colonel Fitzwilliam slapped him on the shoulder in a brotherly show of affection. “You will do the right thing. You always do,” he said encouragingly.
That evening, Darcy sat staring into the fire. He had had his supper alone and had drunk a glass of port. The warmth of the fire, the good food, even the mellow wine seemed to lack its usual savour. Elizabeth had plagued his thoughts all afternoon. There seemed to be nothing he could do to get her out of his mind. She was like an apparition, constant and not unpleasant company, if only he forgot about her underhandedness. He ought to know better. If what Mrs Younge told him was true, she was only a fortune-hunting young woman out to get his money.
Ifhe could believe her. For some reason, whenever Darcy thought back on the situation that had brought Georgiana’sfriendship with Elizabeth to a close, he felt an odd sense that he was missing something. If Elizabeth was an actress, she was a good one indeed. He had always prided himself on being such an excellent judge of character. How had his instincts steered him so wrong this time?
Darcy stood with a grunt and began to pace. The rain that threatened that afternoon had arrived with a fury. He listened to the rain hitting against the townhouse roof. It had a lonely sound. How he wished Georgiana had come. She would have enjoyed London, if even for a few days. What would he do when she found a husband and left him for good? Not that she would not be welcome at her childhood home whenever she had occasion to come and see him. But now that he thought of it more and more, he did not wish to remain alone. If he were to marry as well, he need not be alone ever again.
Elizabeth would have done well at Pemberley. She would have quickly won over his housekeeper, would have delighted in the many paths that led through the woods. It was all too easy to picture her smiling at him as they walked, arm in arm.
How ridiculous! He chided himself for allowing his thoughts to take such an inappropriate turn. Elizabeth had set out to gain control of his heart and his fortune, and he would not allow her to triumph by stealing into his thoughts at every hour of the day.
Darcy raked a hand through his hair, feeling utterly miserable. No. He must forget the beguiling Elizabeth Bennet at all costs.
Chapter 18
Elizabeth huffed in frustration as she realised she had read the same page three times over. Though the novel was one of her favourites, she could not seem to comprehend the words. Her eyes kept drifting off to the distant hillside, looking up the road to the south. Why? It was not as though she were looking for anyone in particular.
No, that was a lie. She longed to see Mr Darcy’s carriage returning from London. She silently chastised herself for her thoughts, knowing that he never wished to see her again. But perhaps if Mr Darcy returned, he could see that something was not right in that house. Mrs Younge’s influence was not what it should be. After what she had seen in the market, Elizabeth had no doubt of that.
She let out another sigh. It was not her place to worry or meddle. Mr Darcy and his sister had made their decision, unjust as it was. She would do better to forget them.
Just then, Lydia walked in, looking upset and fretful. “Lydia? Whatever is the matter?” Elizabeth asked.
Lydia must have been entirely lost in her thoughts, for she jumped at the interruption. She raked her teeth over her lowerlip, clasping and unclasping her hands in front of her. “Oh, Lizzy. I do not know what I am about.”
Elizabeth rose from her chair by the drawing room window and set her book aside. She took Lydia’s hands and had her sit down on the settee with her. “What has happened? Surely it is not as serious as you would have me believe?”
Lydia cast a worried glance over her shoulder as if she were afraid someone would overhear. Elizabeth stood, closed the door, and rejoined her sister on the settee. Surely it was not serious. Lydia was so excitable that any little thing might have brought her into such a state. Even so, she wanted to be there for her sister in any way she could. “Tell me what is troubling you.”
