“We were caught in the rain, Mama,” Elizabeth interjected hastily. “Mr. Darcy was kind enough to escort me back to the house.”
Lydia appeared at Mrs. Bennet’s elbow, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “You both look as though you’ve been swimming rather than walking. What were you doing alone with Mr. Darcy in the rain, Lizzy? Something scandalous, I hope.”
“Lydia!” Elizabeth felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Mr. Darcy was merely?—”
“Merely being a gentleman, I’m sure,” Lydia finished with an exaggerated wink. “Though he’s handsome enough to tempt even you into impropriety, I daresay.”
Elizabeth drew herself up, summoning what dignity she could manage in her bedraggled state. “I must change before I catch a cold. Please excuse me.”
She escaped up the stairs, her thoughts a tumultuous whirl. What had possessed Darcy to declare himself so suddenly, so completely? Could his feelings truly have transformed so dramatically? From the man who had scorned her at the Merytonassembly to one who professed to value her above Pemberley itself?
Beware of sudden attachments, Lizzy,her father’s voice cautioned in her memory.Particularly when fortunes hang in the balance.
She must remain clearheaded, despite the treacherous warmth blooming in her chest. She could ill afford romantic distractions, not when she still had no idea who she truly was—or who might wish her harm.
Elizabeth reached her chamber to find Cassie waiting, a steaming bath prepared, and fresh clothing laid out.
“Heavens, miss! You’re soaked through!” Cassie exclaimed, immediately bustling to help with the sodden walking dress. “Mr. Stevens mentioned you’d been caught in the rain, so I took the liberty.”
“Bless you, Cassie. You’re an angel of mercy.” Elizabeth allowed herself to be led behind the screen where the bath awaited. The warm water was a blessed relief after the chill that had begun to settle in her bones.
“Did Mr. Darcy get as wet as you did, miss?” Cassie asked as she helped Elizabeth out of her drenched garments.
Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm at the memory of standing so close to him in the gazebo, the rain creating a private world around them. “We took shelter, but not before the worst of it caught us.”
“He’s not usually one for getting caught unprepared,” Cassie observed, helping Elizabeth into the bath. “Must have had something important on his mind to miss those storm clouds brewing.”
I have fallen in love with you, Elizabeth. Deeply, irrevocably,she recalled his words.
Elizabeth sank deeper into the warm water, allowing it to soothe her chilled limbs while her mind remained in turmoil. Could it be true? Had the proud master of Pemberley truly fallen in love with her? The sincerity in his eyes had seemed genuine, the tremor in his voice when he spoke her Christian name impossible to feign. And yet…
She had known him for but a few weeks. He had insulted her at their first meeting, doubted her claims, and questioned her motives. How could such feelings transform so completely, so rapidly? Unless what he felt was not love at all, but something more calculated.
A rose remains fragrant, whatever we choose to call it.
His words had touched something deep within her, something she had not known existed until that moment. To be valued for herself, not for her name, position, or fortune—it was more than she had dared hope from any man, let alone one of his standing.
But caution whispered that time would tell the true nature of his regard. Fine words were easily spoken in the heat of emotion. Whether they would withstand the pressures of family, society, and the inheritance dispute remained to be seen.
“Shall I add more hot water, miss?” Cassie’s voice broke through her reflections.
“No, thank you. I believe I’m warm enough now.”
Warm enough indeed. The memory of Darcy’s gaze—intense, vulnerable, hopeful—heated her more effectively than any bath could manage.
An hour later, dressed in a fresh gown of pale blue muslin, her hair neatly pinned and her composure somewhat restored, Elizabeth descended the stairs. The domestic routine had helped settle her racing thoughts, though she was no closer to determining how to proceed with Darcy. Trust was a luxury she could ill afford when so many seemed to be maneuvering for advantage around her.
She had nearly reached the drawing room when Caroline Bingley’s voice cut through her reverie.
“Miss Eliza! There you are!”
Elizabeth suppressed a sigh and schooled her features into polite attentiveness as she turned to face Caroline, accompanied by Mrs. Hurst and Mrs. Bingley. The three women presented a formidable wall of fashionable silks and calculated smiles.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Caroline’s voice dripped with affected concern. “You must join us to discuss yourcostume for the All Hallows’ Eve assembly. As the guest of honor, your appearance is of particular importance.”
“Guest of honor?” Elizabeth echoed, brows rising. “I was not aware I had been granted such a distinction.”
Mrs. Bingley’s smile remained fixed, though her eyes sharpened with interest. “My dear Miss Bennet, the assembly celebrates All Hallows’ Eve—your birthday, is it not? And with the extraordinary circumstances of your potential inheritance, you have naturally become the focus of local curiosity.”
