“Name one,” he mouthed defiantly. Her countenance assumed a devilish quality that drew Darcy forward to read what she would write.
I shall not name it, but I cannot pretend to rival the proficiency with which you have demonstrated your affections in the last few minutes.
This answer might have convinced Darcy he was still delusional had the pleasure it produced not been far greater thanany he could have conceived himself. He leant on the desk, his arm lying alongside Elizabeth’s as he wrote,
I noticed no deficiency.
Name another.
Her lips quirked and Darcy felt an echoing twitch somewhere inside him that he did his best to ignore, for Elizabeth seemed to grow more serious as she dipped her pen to reply.
You are braver than I am. I should never have been as self-possessed with so serious an injury.
He extended a forefinger to contradict her.
You could not be more wrong; I have never been more frightened in my life. The only thing that prevented me from losing my composure was you.
Whereasyouare fearless. Not even Lady Catherine’s scorn could scare you.
She laughed. “Your aunt thinks me an insolent creature, I am sure, but there is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others.” Her smile faded a little. She put down her pen and turned to face him more fully. “I am in earnest though, Darcy. Therearesome things in which I am deficient, and I must be allowed to own them, as you have. You are not the only one to have been taught a lesson this past week. In questioning you soruthlessly, I learnt many things about myself, few of them good, and I fear I was a far less gracious student than you.”
Darcy opened his mouth to reply, but Elizabeth forestalled him with a hand on his arm and an extraordinary look that wasat once ardent and grave. “You have shared so much with me. I have come to know you better than almost anyone of my acquaintance and…” She paused, looking down at her hand briefly, but continued after a self-conscious smile and shaky breath. “And though your feelings are of longer duration, I do not believe they are felt any less deeply than my own. You are not alone in emerging from this experience very much in love.”
Elation swelled Darcy’s heart until it pressed painfully against his ribs. His smile felt unfamiliar, broadened by happiness beyond his usual reserve. He lifted a hand to cradle her head, his fingers in her hair and his thumb stroking her cheek. “Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.” His voice was hoarse and weak, but he spoke aloud, and the words were as soothing to his throat as were her affections to his heart—and her kiss to his lips.
Chapter 20
Arts, Allurements, and Affiances
Darcy arrived with his sister at Grosvenor Street earlier than the invitation specified, but a week of confinement had left him impatient for escape. His wound was healing well, his strength and appetite returned. The only remaining complaint was that his voice was no more improved, and Farnham had advised him not to attempt to use it yet, to avoid doing further damage. It mattered not, for Elizabeth would be able to interpret for him, and she was due to arrive with her aunt, uncle, father, and sister within the next quarter of an hour.
“Darcy, Miss Darcy! You are very welcome!” Bingley greeted them with more than his usual effusiveness at the front door, unceremoniously barging past the footman and opening his arms wide. To Darcy in particular, he said, “You look much more like yourself, old fruit! Come in, come in! I’ve a new tipple on the go that is really only safe for you, for it is guaranteed to blister the voice box clean off anyone else who tries it. Come in!”
Darcy smiled at Bingley’s effervescent manner, which wasunquestionably a consequence of his recent engagement to Elizabeth’s older sister. Upon learning of Jane’s enduring affections, his friend had left posthaste for Hertfordshire to recommence his pursuit of her hand. Once there, he seemed to have taken his lead from Darcy’s example and, with the omission of a near-fatal blow to the neck, had constrained his efforts to one week and an impetuous plea for her hand. To London the pair had returned, ostensibly to share the news with him and Elizabeth, who had refused to return home whilst he was yet too unwell to travel. Darcy suspected, however, that in truth the trip had been conceived as a means to evade Mrs Bennet’s raptures.
Bingley’s siblings awaited them in the drawing room. Mr and Mrs Hurst welcomed them cordially; Miss Bingley came forward to grasp both Georgiana’s hands in a show of intimacy by which his sister was evidently bemused. “Good evening, Miss Darcy, what a joy to see you again after so long. And Mr Darcy! How delighted we all are that you are well enough to join us. It is wonderful to see you looking so well after such a dreadful ordeal.”
Darcy bowed, unable to recall when it had last been necessary for him bite the insides of his cheeks to keep a straight face. He wished Elizabeth had been less eloquent on the subject of Miss Bingley’s officious attentions. He wondered whether his engagement would temper the lady’s manner at all but was resigned to being overly aware of it all evening either way.
Miss Bingley’s smile faltered when he did not reply, and she looked uneasily at her brother.
“He cannot speak, Caroline. You know this,” Bingley said to her. “And believe me when I say it is easiest for him not to bother trying to make himself understood by mouthing anything. It is a tortuous process.”
“For a man with the patience of a flea, perhaps,” Darcy retorted mutely.
Miss Bingley gave a prim little laugh. “Mr Darcy’s words may be indecipherable, Charles, but I can understand that look well enough. I forbid you from teasing him any further.”
“Fear not, Caroline,” said Hurst. “Miss Bennet will be here soon, and then your brother will have no time for anybody else, to tease them or otherwise.”
“But then Lizzy will be here, too, and she will tease him enough for all of us.”
Everybody, Darcy included, looked at Georgiana in surprise. Seldom was she brave enough to speak so boldly in company, and even more rarely was she sportive. It truly was astonishing what alterations Elizabeth could bring about in people in the space of but one week.
“Teases him, does she?” Hurst said with a grin. “How the mighty have fallen.” Darcy treated him to a look of a different sort, whereupon he stopped grinning and sat back down with a grunt.
The sound of a carriage pulling up outside saw Bingley capering back to the front door, drawing the mockery they had all been forbidden from directing at Darcy. Darcy observed good manners and waited where he was for the Bennets and the Gardiners to be shown in, his own boyish flurry of anticipation locked securely behind a carefully neutral expression. His equanimity was severely tested when Elizabeth came in, resplendent in full evening dress, and sought out his gaze before any other. He dared permit himself only a small smile. Any more and he risked making himself ridiculous with an inane grin.
“You look divine,” he mouthed to her when they came together, he taking her hands in his and kissing them.
