She smiled, and from his voice it sounded like Darcy did too. “I think he is fond of you. If you write to him when we get to Dartford, will he come?”
“By the time he gets it, I hope to be on a coach to anywhere, but yes. He would drop anything in an instant for my sake.” He sighed heavily, and it sounded like he had brought his hand to his face again. “I hope he knows I would do the same for him.” He grew thoughtful, and then said, “I have several dear friends, but Fitzwilliam is the one to abandon everything if he thought I needed him.”
“No one would jump in a carriage at a word from me. Ladies do not have the same agency as men do, however much theywish it. My uncle, in a dire emergency, could be relied upon, but he has a wife and four young children who must always come first. My father?” she mused. “Maybe, if there were no other option but for him to act, but decisive action, and for the sake of others, is not in his nature.”
She did not care for the sadness in her own voice and hoped that Darcy had not noticed. Everyone needed someone in their life who would drop everything and rush to their side, someone both capable of it and willing to do it. Did Darcy want to be that person for her? He was surely capable of that sort of wholehearted devotion.
Then why had Darcy denied the living to Wickham when that was what his father had wanted? He must have had an excellent reason, something more than the jealousy Wickham had mentioned.
“We shall try to get a stage coach to London so you can be with your sister and aunt,” he said firmly. “I would not wish to go farther into Kent or Sussex where these smugglers operate if we have a choice. We would be safest in London to be sure, and you want to see Miss Bennet.” He hesitated then said, “And I have to talk to Bingley regarding her.”
There was no need to go over all of that again. “I think after I bathe and eat and cry in my sister’s arms, I want to be outside, Darcy. I almost feel like the walls are closing in.”
“I understand that.” She felt him turn his head to look up at the useless window. The room was cluttered, there was no space to walk, and the sole window was too high to see out of. “I will go to Pemberley as soon as I can. I want to be amongst hills and open spaces.”
“Tell me about it, please.”
“You will soon grow tired of me talking about Pemberley.”
“I want to picture it,” she insisted.
“Very well.” He described the park, the woods, his favourite walks, where he rode, the different holdings. The park sounded large, and with a great variety of ground. Valleys, hills, streams were described in such a way as to put a beautiful picture in her head. There was affection in his voice, and pride too. He would not give her much information on the house, but he described the tenants and land of his home in loving and vivid detail.
What might it have been like to be mistress of such a place? She had assumed Darcy would have kept her family from her if they married, but now he wanted to meet the Gardiners because they meant a great deal to her.
Would she ever see the Gardiners and Jane again? She felt her mind slip back to fear, and she did not want to think about what would happen after the door opened. “Let us play a game,” she cried.
He paused for a heartbeat. “I do not think we have room for move-all or blind man’s buff.”
“I meant a word game,” she said, turning. He shifted too, and now that they were no longer supporting one another, she had to look into his eyes. It was strange to sit on a bed with Darcy, and it brought to mind all manner of stimulating things not appropriate for the time and place.
He stretched and moved to the headboard, sitting tailor-wise. “What do you want to play?” he said with no patience.
She moved to sit next to him, folding her legs likewise and arranging her skirts over them. “Darcy, you are a clever man. You cannot think I want to play a game right now for the sake of amusement.”
“Of course,” he murmured. He looked chagrined. “I feel the same way. A distraction would be good. Choose a word game, something to tax our attention or some game of memory.”
She thought, then said, “I will enigmatically describe a city, and you must guess it.” He nodded, and she thought for a while. “Contention, plus what belongs to a lamp.”
“Warwick.”
“You guessed that far too easily,” she cried. He shrugged, and she said, “What about ‘merchandise’?”
“Ware.” She threw him a surprised look. “What?” he said smilingly. “That was easy, and also a city very near to you.”
“I have one you shall not guess. Gain this city, and you name another.” He was quiet, but she could see he was thinking. “Do you give it up?”
“Winchester.”
She threw up her hands. “I thought I was clever.”
“You are,” Darcy said quickly. He gave her a teasing smirk. “Perhaps I am cleverer.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “I am a kind person, so I will allow you to think that. Your turn; you try to fool me.”
“What tree is of great use in history?” She thought for a moment, and Darcy said, “A date.”
“That is not fair,” she cried, swatting his arm. When she realised what she had done, she was about to apologise, but Darcy laughed. Maybe he was as at ease around her as she was with him. She smiled and said, “That is not fair because I did not cry to give it up. It does not count, and you must go again.”
