Darcy took them, saying to Edwina, “I shall decide in the morning what to do with them.”
Lady Edwina remained silent, as it was not her decision. She caressed Elizabeth’s face tenderly. “Very well. I shall see you all tomorrow.”
Chapter 15
Lady Edwina observed Elizabeth with discreet curiosity, but what she sought to discern was far more profound than the beauty of a woman who would undoubtedly look splendid on the arm of her godson. She wished to know whether Elizabeth loved him. Though at first she had been surprised to learn that she was already staying in his house, she now rejoiced in the opportunity to observe her. And since her arrival, after the day spent together, Elizabeth had grown ever more to her liking.
She was intelligent, and this was well for Fitzwilliam, who needed a wife capable of withstanding him, of opposing him with a spirit akin to his own—a shared perspective on life, complete honesty, yet also a gist for the passion that would lend their existence together its flavour.
Elizabeth seated herself at the table, and from the way she looked at Darcy as he entered, Edwina knew that she wasnot yet his woman. And she rejoiced for them both. Before them, life unfolded—passionate, authentic, miraculous, playful and earnest at the same time. A combination which, she hoped, would grant them happiness for a lifetime.
Edwina decided to temper the tension of that first day, so she smiled and said, “Let us sit, my dear, and have a nice cup of tea.”
Elizabeth looked at her with gratitude. It was precisely what she needed: a simple day like any other—without letters, passion, or stories from the past.
They were expecting Darcy—Elizabeth with just a hint of curiosity but also worry; the previous day’s revelations were not an easy way to approach a long-gone mother he had adored and idealised.
But Darcy seemed unchanged. He greeted Georgiana and Lady Edwina, kissing their hands, and took his place at the table. Only then did he look at Elizabeth, his eyes telling her how wonderful she was and how much he had missed. Her heart began to race, her senses awakening at him just looking at him from a distance. She could not believe the effect he had on her. Looking around, she blushed, suspecting Lady Edwina had already guessed the truth: how troubled she was by her future husband.
Radiant with happiness after reading her mother’s letters, Georgiana looked at them without seeing their faces, longing to speak about her mother and that incredible confession. She hoped that Elizabeth would join her after breakfast. Yet, she hesitated—Elizabeth was, after all, young as she was and just as unversed in the realm of love and passion. She needed a woman who could unveil her experience in matters of life and love.
Fortunately, Lady Edwina, perceptive as ever, read her thoughts with ease and, with a reassuring smile, promised to spend the morning by her side.
What began as an ordinary breakfast soon became a vivid hour of stories and mirth. Jane carried the conversation with her warmth, her exuberance a gift to all who listened. She spoke with unbridled passion of the places she had discovered, the new acquaintances she had made, and the wealth of emotions that London had stirred within her. so caught up was she, in her delight, that she nearly forgot her coat when Bingley arrived to escort her to the Gardiners.
The two were a vision of happiness, their love so radiant that it cast a spell upon all who beheld them. Conversing with easy amusement, they took their leave at last to join a gathering of friends. Elizabeth watched them go with quiet satisfaction, confident now that London had welcomed her dearest sister with open arms.
Once the lively party had departed, Darcy turned to the remaining ladies and, with an inviting gesture, led them into the parlour.
“Just for a short while,” he said, speaking in a neutral tone that gave no sign what he wanted to tell them. They suspected the subject was Lady Anne as they were far from concluding her story.
However, as Georgiana feared, Darcy did not want to resume the letter reading; he just made a brief announcement.
“I have decided to give His Grace the letters my mother left for him. I dedicated a lot of thought to the matter, I assure you, and made this decision on my own.” Lady Edwina, filled with admiration for Darcy’s courage, nodded in agreement. His decision was a testament to his love for his mother that nothing could alter or even shade. He was a mature man, much olderthan Anne had been when she fell in love, and he could regard her story with understanding and acceptance.
Nobody protested or said anything, so he continued. “I sent him a letter asking for a meeting tomorrow. I shall just give him the letters—no need for many words or explanation. It is a gesture that I must make for my mother, despite what the consequences might be. I confess that I do not care anymore about London and its gossip. Elizabeth and I shall leave for Pemberley soon after the wedding, and we intend to stay there for a while as a proper beginning to our marriage. This morning, Elizabeth and I will go for a walk in Hyde Park. I want people to see us together and become accustomed to our approaching marriage.”
Lady Edwina agreed; she loved and admired Lady Anne’s son, who had become such a fine man. For some years, she had been afraid he was too proud, selfish, and haughty, but during the last days, he proved to be a responsible gentleman and, most precious of all, a lad in love.
“Just one word before we leave,” Lady Edwina said. “When I fully recovered from my illness, Anne was about to be married to your father.”
The party looked at her in general bewilderment, but it was Darcy who spoke. “They were married that summer?”
“Yes,” Lady Edwina said. “From the moment she married George Darcy, Anne never spoke again about Fitzroy till the last days of her life when she gave me some instructions regarding her secret being conveyed to you.”
“Perhaps the duke left her voluntarily,” Georgiana said sadly.
“Absolutely not!” Lady Edwina was firm. “Fitzroy was obliged to marry Hilda of Hanover, and Lady Anne Fitzwilliam was obliged to marry George Darcy, your father. I am sorry, children, but this is the only truth I am absolutely sure about.”
∞∞∞
Elizabeth and Darcy strolled for half an hour in Hyde Park. The day was cloudy, but as it had snowed for a while that morning, some of the trees still had a white coating, making a spectacular scene. Elizabeth wore a fur-lined pelisse and a muff in white fur that she borrowed that morning from Jane. Even though she was lovely, Darcy decided it was the first and last time his wife would need to borrow clothing from someone else. Just before arriving at Hyde Park, they stopped in front of a store, and an elegant woman came to their carriage, agreeing with Darcy to visit them that afternoon.
The day’s events had taken Elizabeth by surprise. She had envisioned them spending their time together in quiet intimacy—perhaps even stealing moments of tenderness, nestled in each other’s arms. Instead, they went for a walk and prepared to receive visits.
“It is not, strictly speaking, a visit, my love,” Darcy reassured her. “Mrs Camberley is a renowned dressmaker, and she will see to all the garments you require for the present. In time, when we are next in London, I have no doubt you will call upon her yourself.”
There was little to be said in reply. Elizabeth was not as pleased as Darcy had anticipated, and there could be but one reason for it.
