“I can see now why Jane lost a hairpin,” she said with a warm breath of laughter. One of her own pins had come loose, and she reached up to secure it as Darcy claimed another berry.
“We had best return before your father comes looking.” His look of regret drew another laugh from her. She left first, mingling amongst the guests as she waited for Darcy to emerge. When he did, he joined her and the Gardiners.
“I understand you are to accompany Jane to London next week.” Mr. Gardiner’s knowing look told her that Papa had apprised him of the situation.
“Yes,” Elizabeth confirmed.
“I am certain you will find everything you need in town,” Mrs. Gardiner replied. “We are happy to have you, your parents, and your sister at Gracechurch Street.”
“Are you sure, Aunt? We would not wish to be an inconvenience.” Elizabeth bit her lip. The Gardiners lived modestly.
“We shall always have room for our loved ones, my dear.” Aunt Gardiner patted her hand soothingly.
“If it becomes too much, madam, I shall be pleased to host the Bennets at Darcy House.” Darcy offered courteously.
“Did we not refuse Bingley because he had no hostess?” Elizabeth asked, puzzled.
“We did, but we have arrived at a solution. It would not do to house Bingley’s betrothed beneath the same roof. Nor would it be proper formineto stay at Darcy House. If need be, Miss Bennet and Mrs. Bennet can remain with me, and you and Mr. Bennet can stay at Bingley’s.”
“You think of everything, sir, do you not?” Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled as she smiled.
“Be that as it may, sir,” Mr. Gardiner interjected, “my relations will stay at Gracechurch Street until matters are resolved. I have inquiries concerning Lady Montrose, Mr. Darcy. As it happens, her house stands three doors from yours. Should she agree to receive Elizabeth, I expect my sister and her family will descend upon Darcy House to be nearer to Lizzy.” His tone brooked no argument.
“As you like,” Darcy agreed. “It is a fine plan, and I shall abide by your wishes—and those of the Bennets.”
The party from Netherfield returned to Longbourn following church services the next day. Servants had laid out a generous repast of cold meats, fruit, bread, cheeses, and preserves. The cheerful group served themselves and took seats where they pleased, their conversation muted and companionable.
Later, Darcy and Elizabeth donned their outerwear and strode to the garden. “I have a gift for you,” he said quietly. “I should like you to wear this.” He withdrew a small blue box from his coat and opened it. Inside, nestled in dark velvet, lay a ring of gold, set with a striking blue gem. The band, delicately wrought, bore intricate flowers and curling vines on either side of the stone, which then merged into a braid that encircled it. “Such rings may no longer be fashionable, but seeing it on your finger will declare to all that you are taken, even if they do not know by whom.”
“It is lovely,” she breathed.
“It belonged to my mother, and now to you. We can have it reset if you prefer.” He pulled off her glove and slipped the ring onto the third finger of her left hand.
“Never! It is perfect just as it is. I shall wear it always.”
“At least until I give you a wedding ring. And my grandmother’s. Oh, and my mother’s collection. Those were her favorite pieces.”
“Shall I be expected to change rings often?” she asked, bemused. “I thought one wore their wedding ring at all times.”
“As long as you have something on that finger declaring to all the world that you are mine, I care not which bauble it is.” He lifted her hand, pressing a kiss first to the ring, then to each of her fingertips. “Will your glove fit over it?” he asked.
“I suppose we shall find out.”
It did not, and after several failed attempts, Elizabeth finally gave up, tugging off her other glove and tucking both into the pocket of her pelisse.
“I have a gift for you as well.” She reached into her other pocket and stretched out her hand to him to reveal a small parcel. “It is not much; merely a few handkerchiefs.”
He unwrapped the package with care and lovingly ran his fingers over the embroidery. She had joined their initials together in an elegant design, encircled by roses and ivy—mirroring the motif of her brooch.
“You are very accomplished,” he said. “I shall carry one with me always.” He kissed her warmly, and they returned to the house.
“There you are!” Caroline appeared with hands planted firmly on her hips. “I have something to show Elizabeth. It arrived from London late last night. I had thought to wait until our return to town, but I simply could not resist!” She settled beside Elizabeth and held out a bundle wrapped in oilcloth.
Elizabeth accepted it, her curiosity piqued, and untied the twine securing the parcel. She peeled back the oilcloth to reveal a swathe of rich velvet within. Carefully, she unfolded the softer layer—and gasped. Reverently, her fingers traced the edge of a gilded frame.
“Is this…?” she whispered, lifting the miniature to examine it more closely.
“This is my godmother, Amelia Montrose. You can see now why I swooned when I first laid eyes on you. She gave it to me for my eighth birthday.”
