“Well, I did run away with a man from a watering place.”
She was trying to make him laugh, but she had to know he did not blame her for what happened. “You ran away with me because you wanted to save your sister, and then you wanted to save mine.”
Her eyes stayed on his, a smile still on her lips. “If I cannot be grateful for your reading, then I am exceedingly grateful that you are willing to make our marriage a success.” She blushed and looked away as soon as the statement was out of her mouth.
“Both of us are committed to a true partnership, Elizabeth,” he breathed.
“After the way I criticised you, I might expect you to be very resentful of having to marry me.”
He smiled, but she was still looking away from him. “Both of usspeak our minds. I am rather glad to not have to guess what you think.” She laughed a little and raised her eyes to his. “We are—we are fond of each other, yes? I think we could be happy together.”
As he said it, he wondered if love was possible for them.
“We will be,” she agreed. Then she rose and he stood with her. In a lighter voice, she added, “Your reading was capital, and my pleasure in good reading is extreme. Perhaps you might try Shakespeare next time? If your reading of that silly novel was so enlivening, then his speeches must be animated and enlightening in your voice.”
He would sit by her side and read a thousand sonnets if she smiled at him like that. “I am at your command.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After walking in the Green Park and being seen as Mr Darcy’s fashionable and respectable new bride, Elizabeth returned home to reply to her invitations before preparing for Lady Summerlin’s ball. Everybody who had ever visited Mr Darcy was disposed to pay him attention on his marriage. She knew how concerned Darcy was that she be a credit to him. However much he might approve of her, what mattered more to him was that society approved of her, especially considering Georgiana’s scandal.
She was at the small desk in Georgiana’s old room, taking advantage of the afternoon light, when Darcy came in. “Recording all your secret thoughts in your journal?”
“Managing your engagements, actually,” she said archly as he came farther into the room. It had again been a few days since she had needed to unburden herself to her diary. Darcy’s companionship had marked quite a change. “Although, if you continue to tease me, I will be sure to make a lengthy note of your sporting behaviour toward me in my next journal entry. I am impressed by your improvement.”
“I have learnt from the best.”
She grinned at him. His manner was more wry, more quick quips than her own playfulness, but Darcy still had a sense of humour. Hefeatured prominently in every journal account. His generosity, his kindness, his cleverness. What thoughts and reflections did he have about her? Were they the thoughts of a friend he respected, or could they be stronger and more fervent than that?
“You see all the dinner parties and evening parties made for you and your lady,” she said, gesturing to the table when she realised she had been staring at him, “and invitations are flowing in so fast that we will never have a disengaged day.” She looked over the stack. “In the course of the autumn, I must return their civilities with one superior party.”
“You cannot begin all of that yet, because I must return to Pemberley. I am typically there in August and September, and matters can no longer be put off. I will leave tomorrow, after Lady Summerlin’s ball. I can get a few stages in before dark, even though we will have a late night.”
“You must be there for the Michaelmas season?” she asked. Sunday was the twenty-ninth. Tenants would want to speak with Darcy to discuss their rates and deductions and harvest yields. Mrs Reynolds would discuss hiring of servants. His steward would want to meet with him to plan and budget for the following year.
“I will only be gone a fortnight, then all the parties honouring our marriage can resume.”
“Thank you for telling me.” She looked at the letters again, already deciding which ones she might accept alone and which ones to defer for after Darcy returned in October. She noticed he still hovered by the door, and then she looked up to see him turning a small parcel over in his hands.
He cleared his throat and came nearer. “Am I too late to add something to your preparations for tonight?”
Elizabeth rose and pointed toward the parcel. “What is it?”
“Something for your trinket box.”
She unwrapped it and opened the lid to see an aigrette made of diamonds. The hair ornament was designed as a posy of flowers, grasses, and a single peacock feather tied by a ribbon. The jewelled feather sat on a small hidden spring, mounted en tremblant, so that it trembled ever so slightly when she moved her head.
It was the prettiest thing she had ever seen.
“Darcy…” She stared at it, tracing her fingertips over the diamonds. “It is stunning. When did you get this?”
“I went to a jeweller in Ludgate Hill the other day.”
She supposed it must have been after another one of Miss Bingley’s taunts about her hair and dress not being fine enough for the great Mr Darcy. If she did not know his character as well as she did, she might assume he found her lacking and wanted her to appear the part of the elegant bride worthy of a man of Darcy’s rank and wealth.
But by his manner, rather than his words, it was clear he simply wanted to make her happy.
She was extraordinarily fortunate to find a man like Darcy. They were more similar in their inclinations and ways than she had first thought. He had exceedingly good understanding and, to her surprise, a most amiable disposition and temper. She may not have his love, but she was certain she had his admiration.
