The quick smile she gave in response was nothing like her habitual chuckle. He had not heard that chuckle for some time. He missed it.
She examined him gravely. “You are taking this hard.”
He was not quite sure what ‘this’ meant. Were they even talking about the same thing?
He gave a wave of his hand. “This. Bingley. The past. The fact that we are running like rats. Our marriage. Wanting you, Elizabeth, with every fiber of my being. Yes, I am taking it hard. All of it is difficult. All of it impossible to solve.”
She waited for more, but he had said everything he was prepared to say.
“If you wish to talk about it—”
He could not help smiling. Naturally, Elizabeth would not be satisfied with vague answers, but it was all he could give her for now. Spending time alone with her would not resolve their differences. It would only lead to more problems. He would not be able to keep himself from touching her, and that would not do at all.
“I do not wish to talk about it.”
He wished, for once, that Elizabeth would listen to him and not question his reasons.
“Very well.” She gave a little sigh. “If you do, you know where to find me, since you picked out my bedchamber.”
He did not want to continue this discussion. He came to his feet.
“Naturally, but now I must take my leave. I have to go and visit Bingley before I return to my team.”
He could see the hurt expression in her eyes. It broke his heart.
“I love you, Elizabeth. I am trying my best.”
He bowed, turned on his heels and marched away, feeling like an absolute scoundrel.
***
ELIZABETH SIGHED ASDarcy walked away, his broad shoulders rigid, his spine tense. It was hard to reconcile this man with the one who had wrapped his arms around her in the carriage and filled her with such warmth. That gentleman had gone into hiding. Perhaps she was expecting too much. When she had first met him, he had been as cold and distant as a sculpture. Did falling in love change a person’s character?
Or perhaps it was the tendency of powerful gentlemen to keep to themselves. Did men ever confide in others the same way women did? She had no idea. Her acquaintance with gentlemen was limited.
If only she had a brother, then she would be better able to judge. With four sisters and a mother that rarely fell silent, she had never had reason to question whether women were naturally more inclined to communicate.
If she was to judge by Papa, then she would have to conclude that gentlemen were not loquacious. But what if Papa had married someone more compatible than her mother? Anyone could see they were ill suited to each other. Would he have confided in her instead of retreating to the library whenever a crisis arose? He was such an odd mix of sarcastic humor and reserve that she doubted it would be possible to bring him to talk about anything serious. Yet she did not have any problem understanding him.
She thought of Uncle Phillips. As an attorney, he had always struck her as too rough and ready to be the type who would confide in his wife. She doubted that such a thing was even possible, given Aunt Phillips’ propensity towards gossip.
What about her uncle Gardiner? He and her aunt were like-minded. Did they speak of personal matters? They were kind, caring people. She only hoped they did.
She wanted a true partner of mind as well as heart, but was she dreaming of the impossible?
While she would have loved it to be otherwise, she also knew their situation was not conducive to intimacy. There were people actively conspiring to prevent their relationship. Darcy had barely recovered from the loss of his closest friend and Twin, Cuthbert, and now he had to deal with the possibility that Bingley may never recover.
Darcy had asked her if she understood what he was going through. Perhaps not everything, but she could imagine the crushing weight of responsibility on his shoulders. The complexity of moving a whole household of Royal Mages to Netherfield in secret. Negotiating with Mr. Prescott. Completing his work in London. Setting up new Wards. Teaching his apprentices. The list of things to do was endless. It was a wonder he did not crack under the strain. How could she expect him to devote his time to her as well?
It was just that she had caught a glimpse of what life with Darcy could be like, away from all the challenges and problems that came with their roles as Royal Mages. Their interlude in the carriage – short as it was— had taught her to expect more.
She could wish for it, but for now, she had to accept that their lives were not their own. In all fairness, the two of them were still strangers in so many ways. They had not yet built the kind of closeness required to speak freely with each other. There would be time enough to become more fully acquainted with him, and for him to come to know her. That was what marriage was about. A lifetime of possibilities together.
But what if their lifetime together was too short? What if they never did have a chance to know each other?
It was a grim prospect, not worth dwelling on, and she rejected it as quickly as it crossed her mind.
