She seemed short of breath but managed a smile, and Darcy knew she understood exactly what he meant.
Elizabeth wascertain that of all horrid things, leave-taking was the worst. Darcy had left yesterday, and it was a sad change. His company had given great spirit to the last two weeks, and the expectation of seeing Darcy every morning, the assurance of his attention, his conversation, his care, had brightened her days since they arrived in town. It had been a very happy fortnight, and sinking from that enjoyment into the common course of days in London all alone made her feel forlorn.
And she wanted to kiss him again.
She had gone to church this morning and walked in Hyde Park with the wives of a few of Darcy’s friends. Thank goodness her social circle was ever-widening. Until her aunt and uncle returned and some families in Hertfordshire came to town for the winter, she knew no one else. But despite that, everything seemed dull now. This sensationof weariness, stupidity, a disinclination to employ herself wore on her.
How could she care about anything when Darcy had shown her, almost told her, that he loved her?
It was getting late and she needed to do something useful before the sun fell below the horizon. Elizabeth took her journal into Georgiana’s old room, determined to record her thoughts on the ball and the two days since. She opened the curtain in case Georgiana walked by and saw she could now come to the house to claim her things, then sat before the window to take advantage of the light.
She tried to remember whom she danced with at Lady Summerlin’s ball and made mention of them as well as what she wore. She noted the aigrette Darcy had given her and that it had been complimented by many. Darcy had not danced with her, but she had felt his earnest gaze on her for most of the evening.
Her mind passed over his gift of the diamond hair ornament. It had prompted her to kiss him, but it had not truly been because of the aigrette. It was because she loved him and wanted him to know it, at least through her actions, since she was not brave enough to speak the words before he did.
Her memory passed over what it was like to be hip to hip, chest to chest, lips to lips with Darcy. She had finished her accounting of the ball and the receipt of her gift, but what to write about everything else? Her relationship with Darcy felt entirely different since they had kissed before he left. She had not expected it to happen and had only wanted to assure him she would miss him.
Darcy made it very clear he would miss her too.
Blood rushed through her as she wrote about what it was like to kiss him. She had been thoroughly, beautifully, sensuously kissed. Every recollection she wrote about kissing Darcy made her think of a tangle of naked limbs and beating hearts and impatient mouths. Her hopeful thoughts and curious longings about what would happen after he came back filled the rest of the page of her small journal.
Her whole body felt taut, aching to finish what they started in the library. The fancy of it gripped her, and she knew sleeping tonight would be impossible.
Elizabeth exhaled, feeling hot all over, and closed the journal to write her letters. She wanted to put a letter in Monday’s first morning post for Darcy—remembering his kisses and imagining what else he might do had distracted her long enough. She would hint at how much she missed him, but it would be a far less explicit letter than what she recorded in her private journal.
It was a good thing she was already in love with him, because how could she not love a man who kissed like that?
On Tuesday morning,Elizabeth received a note from Lady Summerlin telling her to be sure to read theMorning Postbefore they met later today. She asked a footman to buy one. In a quarter of an hour he was back, and she was amazed to see mention of herself under the Fashionable World heading.
The lively Mrs D, lately married, was seen at Lady S’s in Portman Place with a diamond spray that must have been a wedding gift from her lovestruck husband. It seems that lady is accepted in her new circle, but the former Miss D, we understand, is not noticed by Mr D by his time nor his money. The new Mrs W let loose a shame upon that family by her low marriage but, at the least, the new Mrs D and her diamonds, this editor and good society have decided, are worthy of notice.
Parliamentary proceedings, arts, and crime all had their place in the newspaper, but so did gossip. There had been mention of Georgiana’s disastrous marriage and Darcy’s sudden one not long after they happened, but this was the first mention of either of them since they came to town. Although initials were used in place of a full name, the identity of those involved was never secret, and everyone who read this paper would know who exactly “Mr D” was.
Elizabeth could not help but smile as she read the article, even knowing that Darcy would be mortified by any mention of her in the newspaper. That it was favourable did not matter. He had such a proper sense of delicacy and pride he would hate to see her name inprint. He would not be offended, but he would dislike it, even if it proved she was not a discredit to his family name.
It would, however, be deeply distressing to Lady Catherine, who hoped Elizabeth would be scorned and criticised wherever she went for daring to marry her nephew.
She wondered if Darcy would mention it. He would have arrived at Pemberley last night, and she expected at least a few lines of his safe arrival to be put into the post today. Some other friend would mention the gossip to him, or he might read it himself, but no distressing lines about his sister’s fall or teases that he was an uxorial man would come from her.
Before Elizabeth went out for the day, a note was delivered from Georgiana saying she would come at three o’clock to collect her belongings. Elizabeth huffed in irritation, for that meant she had to cut short her outing to Bond Street with Lady Summerlin. The kind lady wanted to see her finely dressed. Darcy was right that his mother’s friend wanted to spoil her, and she felt guilty that she had to leave her new friend early.
But it was another chance to restore Georgiana to her brother. How happy would Darcy be to return from Pemberley to find his sister ready to forsake Wickham? Yes, her living apart from Wickham would be a disgrace, but one no worse than what she had already endured.
And whatever Darcy felt for her would only benefit by Elizabeth bringing his sister back, like she had failed to do in Scotland.
At nearly three o’clock, Elizabeth dismissed the footmen and waited by the door herself. She could not ask her sister-in-law to come in through the servants’ entrance, but she was not exactly welcomed here either. It was best not to make a parade of her. Georgiana was prompt, carrying a large reticule and a fair-sized box, and Elizabeth led her directly to the room. She had only used the writing table by the window and was not sure what else might lie in the trunks or on the shelves.
Georgiana hung by the door, and Elizabeth supposed she was oppressed by fond remembrances of visiting the brother she was now estranged from.
“May I pack anything for you?” she asked.
She shook her head and avoided her eye, her gaze darting all over the room.
“Can I help you find something in particular?” she tried again.
“No.” She was as timid as she had been when she first met Georgiana in Ramsgate. After a long silence, Georgiana finally said shakily, “You must not let me keep you.” Her eyes strayed to the table by the window. “I will leave when I am done.”
“Nonsense, and you must let me help you as well.” Perhaps she was reluctant to actually look through things, since this was never her home. Elizabeth opened the two trunks and gestured for Georgiana to look.
