“It makes complete sense,” he said with some sharpness. “I will not be duped again by someone unworthy of the post. I would give you all the time you need to select somebody you trust to do her duty to Pemberley. Besides, Ferguson has already applied to the registry for applicants, and will forward the best for you to peruse.”
His allusion to Mrs Reynolds was unmistakable, and for the second time, Elizabeth noticed the strain in his voice when he spoke about her. It reminded her of his claim to being ‘the angriest he had ever been’ when Mrs Reynolds confessed her betrayal to him. She began to suspect that he had been more hurt than angry, but she kept the thought to herself. She kept to herself, also, that she did not know to what ‘registry’ Mr Ferguson had applied, thinking it best to seek that information elsewhere.
“If that is your wish, then of course that is what we shall do,” she assured him. “In the meantime, I assume you have a housekeeper at your London house. Might she be able to help?”
“Mrs Fairlight? Ferguson has already asked if she would be interested in the post. She said not. She has family in London.”
“Why not ask her if she would be willing to step in temporarily, until we find a permanent replacement?”
He brightened a little and acknowledged it was worth a try. “You see?” he said, pulling her with him towards the house. “You are a natural.”
Mrs Bennet was more vocal in her lamentations over Darcy’s precipitate departure than Elizabeth had been, but Darcy bore it with commendable patience, remaining at Longbourn for cup after cup of tea. Elizabeth herself continued to be sensible about his departure, determined to show no hint of irrationality, though she would have drunk tea until she dissolved if it meant he could stay longer.
“I shall be wretched until you return,” she whispered to him when it eventually came time for him to leave.
To her surprise, he broke into a broad smile. “I thought I was alone in my misery.”
“You are never going to be alone in your misery again. Although I shall endeavour to make sure we share more happy times than sad ones.”
That banished his smile and replaced it with the same look as that with which he had greeted her in the lane, earlier. She grinned at him and dared to kiss his cheek as she whispered that she loved him in his ear.
“You are resolved to make it as difficult as possible for me to leave, I see?”
“Only easier to return.”
He kissed her hand, mounted his horse, and was gone in a trice, and Elizabeth did not mind his haste one bit, for she, too, felt that if he had not gone then, she might not have been able to let him go at all.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
A DISGRACEFUL ALLIANCE
One of Darcy’s horses threw a shoe as the carriage rolled out of Netherfield’s drive the next morning. Bingley offered the use of one of his bays, but none were well-matched with the other three, and Darcy could hardly empty his friend’s entire stable. Much to the surprise of his coachman and manservant—both of whom were more used to his intolerance for any delay to well-laid plans—Darcy quite happily instructed them to send for the farrier and set out himself for Longbourn.
He had thought his mind would be less consumed, his spirits less agitated once he secured Elizabeth’s hand. How wrong he had been! With all the shackles of awkwardness disposed of, they talked with an ease, an intimacy, that Darcy had never known with another person. It made him want to tell her everything about himself, ask her everything about herself, and discuss and debate everything in between.
Elizabeth was by turns sportive, compassionate, insightful, and challenging. Rarely was he not either diverted or intrigued by something she had said or the way she had said it, and he would swear to having laughed more this past week than in the whole of the past year. She had fairly ruined him for anyone else’s company, but as if longing for her society were not distracting enough, he longed for a good deal more besides. She grew more beautiful to him by the day. She wore her happiness like jewels; her eyes sparkled with it and her countenance glowed. The pleasure of kissing her was beyond anything he had anticipated but had only inflamed his desire, occupying more of his thoughts than he would ever admit.
With his head so full of her, the prospect of leaving to attend to the mountain of problems that awaited him at home was less than appealing. He had dreamt up all manner of schemes that might enable Elizabeth to come to Pemberley with him, but there was nothing for it; he must go, and she must stay. Nevertheless, the opportunity for one last visit was an unexpected boon of which he had no objection to taking advantage.
His complacency vanished entirely upon arriving at Longbourn, for there, at the front of the house, was parked a chaise and four. The horses were post, but the equipage and the livery of the servant milling about next to it were unmistakably Lady Catherine’s. Anger instantly drew every sinew in his body taut. His aunt had evidently learnt about his engagement. She would not bestir herself to travel so far, or condescend to call on such a family, for anything less important to her. Just as there was no possibility that she had come with any purpose other than to wield all her considerable consequence in opposition to it.
“Mr Darcy!” Mrs Bennet exclaimed when he was shown into the parlour. “We thought you were gone to Derbyshire today.” Only she and Kitty were present, which made Darcy even more uneasy.
“There was a delay. Pray, am I right in thinking my aunt is here?”
“Yes! And how honoured we are that she is come! I am sure her ladyship will be pleased not to have missed you after all. She and Lizzy are walking in the garden.”
Darcy excused himself and stalked from the house at a pace, his displeasure increasing with every step. Lady Catherine must have known she would have no influence on him, but it was unconscionable that she had come instead to hound Elizabeth.
He heard their voices as he neared the copse to which Mrs Bennet had directed him. His aunt’s tone was angry, snarling almost. Elizabeth was discernibly vexed, also, but her accent was more collected. It did not surprise Darcy in the least, for her disposition was such that she was not easily intimidated, but he nevertheless respected her for it prodigiously.
Lady Catherine’s words were the first to become clearly audible, and not just because he was so close; she had raised her voice. “Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?”
“That is untrue, madam, and you demean yourself by peddling the lie,” he said as he arrived in the clearing.
Both women turned to him in surprise. Elizabeth looked profoundly relieved. Lady Catherine looked shocked, but she immediately affected an air of satisfaction.
“Darcy!”
