She pulled her hand from his face, feeling acutely the loss of contact. His guilt and grief faded, faster now than it did a month or even a fortnight ago. He would be restored to his former equanimity before she died, she was certain of it. “You have already doneeverything that I asked of you. You let me love your sister. You married me and saved me from a dependent life at Longbourn. You let me be needed by someone before I die.”
That thesomeonewas not only Georgiana struck her in her heart; Mr Darcy had become dear to her, too. She respected him, she esteemed him, and she wondered if she could love him. Her affections were entangled more than she had previously acknowledged. He was not the unpleasant man she had thought he was after their confrontation in the apothecary shop. In the past weeks, he had unwittingly kindled a flame in her heart for something more than companionship and respect.
Elizabeth noticed that Colonel Fitzwilliam was no longer in the room as Mr Darcy repeated, “Ask anything of me, please.”
“Just ...” She regretted being adamant that their arrangement stipulated that she be an unloved wife. She felt heat in her cheeks at the thought of what a more fervent embrace might feel like, and what his lips tasted like. “Keep me in your heart for a while after I am gone.”
“For the rest of my life.”
Wasit the way Mrs Darcy knew what to say to comfort him, or her bright eyes and her unaffected warmth that made his heart pound? He enjoyed her conversation, comparing their different opinions, trying to argue her out of her opinion—if such a thing could be done. Her grief and diagnosis notwithstanding, Mrs Darcy was a woman with a happy disposition.And he could not imagine anything nearer perfect beauty than her altogether—both face and figure. Every kind word, every playful quip, every chaste embrace darted another flame in his heart. He was becoming violently smitten by his own dying wife.
The wine coaster loudly rolled across the table toward him and slipped off the edge to hit him firmly in the chest. Darcy caught the bottle by the neck and set them both back on the table, glaring at Fitzwilliam. “What was that for?”
“I had been trying to catch your attention, but you were lost insome reflection. Thinking perhaps of your lady who is awaiting us in the drawing room?”
“My mind was otherwise engaged.”
“I think not. You have a fonder connexion to Mrs Darcy than when I was last here.” Fitzwilliam took a long swallow from his glass. “So much so that I might have presumed you and she occupied together the adjoining rooms in the front of the house.”
“I see no reason to upset our arrangement.” He meant the rooms and the furniture. His heart beat a little faster at the memory of her arms around him, that jolt of attraction that struck him whenever she touched him.
“I think she has set your heart afire.”
Darcy rolled his eyes. “Did I not tell you in that tavern to leave your romantic nonsense out of my arrangement with Mrs Darcy?”
“You cannot argue me out of my opinion. There is a great deal of flammable matter in that tall frame of yours, however dormant it may have lain. I suspect that Mrs Darcy has put a torch to it.”
“That is absurd.” He avoided his cousin’s eye and poured some unwanted wine into his glass. It wasnotabsurd; it felt as though Mrs Darcy’s admiration for himcouldset a torch to him and everything within him would burst into a blaze.
“Then how would you describe your connexion to the woman who appears to be your wife in name only? I can see that you admire her, and she seems to like you better than I thought possible two months ago.”
“It is a friendship, with a warmth to it, a natural friendship between two people who understand one another.”
Fitzwilliam barked a laugh. “Understand! She understands you? Who is your uncle? What is your income? How can you truly understand one another when you have not been honest?”
He looked away guiltily. “We understand one another beyond any small disagreements on the surface.”
“You lie to her every day!”
“We both know what kind of honesty is important.”
“How can you say that? Oh, I do not doubt the truth behind it in general, but how canyoucontinue in this deceptive manner? I knowwhy you lied to this market town, but you married this woman, and it is plain that you esteem her. She will die within two months anyway, but you have not confessed a single thing. It matters little to me, but I know you, Darcy. Are you not ashamed of yourself?”
Darcy hung his head. “I am. Truly, I am. Once begun, I ... I could not say how far her friendship toward me could go were she to live, but she admires me.”
“Then why not confess?—”
“You could not understand it! She admiresme.She saw me as a decent man devoted to his sister, and she asked to throw her lot in with mine for a few months. A man she had just met and who supposedly had a dubious reputation with only a few hundred a year. I hate myself for how I thought of Georgiana’s child, but Mrs Darcy knows andstillthinks me a good man. I am esteemed and respected by her entirely on my own merits. Not for my estate, or my wealth, or my true reputation or my connexions.”
Fitzwilliam shook his head sadly. “You cannot think she would esteem you less if she knew the truth.”
“No, but she might hate me for lying for this long.” He ran his hand over his face. “She will be dead by the end of September, dear woman. She is happier here than in her childhood home, and I am happy to know that I am admired by a lovely woman for my own sake. Let the matter stand as it is.”
He would miss her witty and charming company when she was dead. Of course he was aware of the attraction he felt, an attraction he did not believe it would be wise to act on.Is it wise to fall in love with a woman who is soon to die?Had he not suffered enough this year?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Since Colonel Fitzwilliam’s arrival last week, Netherfield’s lodge had an engagement nearly every night. They had dined out with Mrs Beverly and her husband, had a small card party, and Lydia came once in the evening. Even when an evening passed with only the three of them, Elizabeth felt happy with the company and conversation.
