Mere moments after Elizabeth closed the door to the hall behind her aunt, the one from the sitting room opened, and Darcy, after a quick glance to ensure she was alone, stalked in.
“Forgive me, Elizabeth, I know I said I would wait, but truly, what can you possibly have been discussing for so long that you have not already spoken of this past week?”
She meant to tease him for his disgruntlement but insteadsurprised herself by feeling suddenly tearful. “We were talking about Jane.”
His countenance was overcome with alarm, and he strode across the room to embrace her. “What in God’s name has been said?”
“Oh, nothing new. Only what passed between us in London. Forgive me. I know not why I am allowing it to upset me so. I am only tired, I think.”
She promptly found herself whisked off her feet and carried directly to her bed. He joined her, lying on his side with his head propped on one hand, and wiped away her tears with his thumb.
“I shall write to Bingley and tell him not to come,” he said so very gently.
“No,” Elizabeth answered sleepily. “Pray, do not. I should like to see Jane. To set matters aright.”
She was sunk too far into sleep to discern what he said in response. As she drifted off, she knew only that his assurances were whispered so tenderly and his caresses so gentle she could not have remained awake had she tried.
Friday 7 August 1812, Derbyshire
Darcy caught his breath when he espied her. She stood at the top of the steps just beyond the main door, illuminated by the sunlight cascading around her, humming quietly as she awaited the rest of the party.
Her distress and fatigue the previous evening had alarmed him greatly, for though little in the world compared to the contentment of watching her sleep in his arms, he was unused to seeing aught akin to fragility in her. To see her now banished all his concern. She was breath-taking—radiant of complexion, comely of figure, assured of carriage—andhis.He moved to stand directly behind her and put his lips to her ear. “I swear you grow more tempting by the day.”
She jumped, half gasping and half laughing, though she made no attempt to move away. Indeed, she arched her back slightly to press her temple to his cheek. Whether it was also intentional that her buttocks pressed against him, he could not be sure, but he thought it probable. He made a small, strangled noise, and his hands flew to her hips to stay her motion ere she rendered him indecent. “My God, woman, I am on my knees for you.”
She turned to face him and raised one delicious eyebrow. “Now that is an intriguing prospect.”
Dear Lord, would she slay him here in the hall? “Pray, torture me not! I am only human, Elizabeth, and you are divine.”
She gave no response. With naught but a saucy smirk, she was gone, walking around him to greet her aunt, uncle and sister, just arriving downstairs with Georgiana. He had married the Devil in a siren’s guise! Biting the insides of his cheeks to suppress an exultant smile, he straightened his attire, that he might at least appear outwardly composed, and turned to escort their guests to the awaiting carriage.
“We have thoroughly enjoyed our visit, Darcy,” Mr Gardiner said as they walked outside. “Pemberley is without equal, and you and Lizzy have been delightful hosts. I cannot thank you enough for making us so welcome.”
“It has been our pleasure,” Darcy replied. “We are delighted you have agreed to come back at Christmas. Pemberley is an enchanting place for young children. I hope yours will enjoy it.”
“I have no doubt they will, sir, though whether Pemberley will like them quite as well in return by the end of the visit remains to be seen.”
“It has weathered worse in its time, I am sure.”
“And will again, I should not wonder, for if they are aught like their mother, then any children of Lizzy’s are unlikely to be particularly tractable, I am sorry to say.”
Darcy agreed with a small smile that did not come close to expressing his eagerness to begin a family with Elizabeth. The prospect of establishing his own legacy at Pemberley—of its being Elizabeth with whom he did so, of seeing her make a child in her image and in her body—was one he anticipated with absurd impatience.
At the foot of the stairs, Mr Gardiner paused to say goodbye to his niece, and Darcy turned to bid farewell to the ladies. His happy reflections having put him in an exceedingly good humour, he was moved to kiss each of their hands as he helped them into the carriage. Mary smiled and wished him well. Mrs Gardiner audibly sucked in her breath and stumbled on the steps.
Keeping hold of her hand to steady her, Darcy leant to see her face around the rim of her bonnet better, enquiring gently after her wellbeing. Her eyes, when they met his, widened ever so slightly, and sheflushed bright red, skewering him squarely betwixt amusement and mortification. For though humility demanded he admit it to nobody, he was not unconscious of his looks, and hers was not an unprecedented reaction.
“Silly me, I missed the step,” she said, all but leaping into the carriage.
“Oh, I shall miss you, Lizzy!” Mary said, leaning back out of the door to squeeze her sister’s hands, as close to high emotion as Darcy had ever seen her. “Pray, write often, and visit us at Longbourn as soon as may be.”
“There, there now, child,” Mr Gardiner said, shooing her back into her seat as he climbed in. “You have been away as long as your sister has. It is time we took you home.” He indicated that the driver should set off then raised his hat cordially. “Thank you again, Lizzy, Darcy, Miss Darcy. Until Christmas!”
A chorus of goodbyes arose between them all as the carriage pulled away. Darcy observed Elizabeth from the corner of his eye, hopeful that her relations’ departure would not distress her overmuch. On the contrary, she showed every sign of being greatly diverted.
“What amuses you?”
She made a poor attempt to conceal her mirth and shrugged. “Nothing.”
