Georgiana's eyes widened in disbelief. "Surely, you do not believe they would be rude to her!"
"Lady Catherine already has been. And she has spread all sorts of rumours. My dear, I hope you do not doubt the sincerity of Elizabeth's feelings for me."
"Oh no, never! Not after I saw you both at Pemberley last summer." The girl smiled, remembering how much she enjoyed seeing her brother and Miss Elizabeth together as their love blossomed like a precious flower. "And even if I had doubtsabout her, I trust your judgement completely. If she is your choice, she is mine too."
Darcy kissed her forehead. "Thank you, my dear. Will you play for us tonight?"
The girl blushed. "I shall if you desire it. And I shall ask Elizabeth to join me, just as we did at Pemberley. I will see whether everything is prepared in the music room."
Darcy's heart melted as the remembrance of the wonderful evening at Pemberley—when his hopes came back to life—filled his mind. so lost was he in his thoughts that he did not even notice when his sister left, and he remained alone.
Eventually, he stepped onto the balcony to relieve his anxiety. He remained outside for some moments, enjoying the fresh, cold air and the beautiful sunset.
Slowly, other recollections connected to Pemberley embraced him. There was a time in his childhood when he caught a cold and fell ill. Not allowed to leave his chamber, he merely lay on a small couch on the balcony, watching the world outside. His father would wrap him in a thick blanket and sit with him, talking and making plans to shoot together when he recovered. It was a happy time; his father was young, healthy, and full of life. Darcy liked nothing more than being in his company and learning from him at every opportunity.
Following that rather long illness, the young Darcy feared falling ill again; therefore, he avoided cold water, open windows, or walks in the rain. He bundled himself in his warmest clothes and drank all the tisanes Mrs Reynolds prepared for him. Then, one evening, his father entered his room just before bedtime. It was an unusual visit as his father sat on the edge of the bed.
"This evening, we shall forget your illness entirely. We shall put all the memories of it in a drawer, lock it with a key, and throw the key away together."
It seemed a magic trick, but it worked, and the next day, young Darcy was once again the courageous boy he had always been. The memory of their throwing the key out the window had followed Darcy for many years in the most difficult moments that tormented him, especially after his father's passing.
Darcy searched for his father's image deep in his soul, trying to remember his features, small gestures, and the tone of his voice. He was an excellent man in every aspect of his character. Darcy loved and admired his father, although neither of them excelled in expressing their feelings openly. His father did not appear emotional—he might even seem distant or harsh—but his behaviour and actions showed his affection more eloquently than any words. And George Darcy knew how to resolve any problem. Now, it was his turn to do the same with the upsetting circumstances created by Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Things were so relaxed in Hertfordshire; now he had to stand against the ton and London and find a drawer not to hide but to annihilate their problems.
∞∞∞
Only a few days ago at Netherfield, Darcy had a single idea in his life: to see Elizabeth as often as he could. He adored the days they were together and dreaded the nights separating them. She would soon be his wife; in her eyes, he could see all the promises a woman makes to a man.
With Elizabeth, he was no longer the master of his thoughts or his senses. Bingley jested with him about his feelings. "Darcy, you were never in love before, and now you discover it at its highest level. Do not worry—you will survive."
No, he had never been in love before, so it was difficult to recognise and acknowledge the emotion. He wished he had done things better, more carefully. He should have told Lady Catherine many times, clearly and beyond any doubt, that he would never marry Anne rather than allow his aunt to repeat her unreasonable plans in public and entertain groundless hopes. He probably should have returned to London the day after his engagement and talked to the Matlocks before they had time to be convinced by Lady Catherine's malicious accusations.
Darcy shook his head to cast off such musings. It was too late for regrets; he must handle the situation that existed. Concerns about the past were useless—at least for that evening.
The cold helped him calm. Alone on his balcony, he decided it was for him to invent that drawer to contain the distressing speculations and then, with his father's image in mind, to throw away the key. And indeed, he used the magic of his childhood and his father's advice to restore his peace. He was ready to fight for the woman he loved.
With a lighter heart, he hurried downstairs, waiting for the guests, who could arrive any moment. No, they were not guests; they were Elizabeth's family—his family—and Elizabeth, the future mistress of his house…and heart!
∞∞∞
Elizabeth leaned her head against the carriage window, yet with no interest in looking at the view passing before her eyes.
The steady ride took her closer to Fitzwilliam, her heart racing with every passing moment. It had only been a day since they were together, and she missed him dearly. Elizabeth dared to anticipate the passionate moment of their meeting, his eyeseagerly searching hers, his prolonged kiss on her hand, that intense feeling travelling through her body at blinding speed. She could only imagine her entrance into his London mansion for the first time, the joy and curiosity to see every room of the house—the one that she would soon call home.
Elizabeth still felt blissful chills travel down her spine as she remembered the remarkable elegance and beauty she discovered during her first visit to Pemberley. She secretly enjoyed the vision of her future life with Fitzwilliam as it unfolded in such splendid places. There had been many changes in her life since that trip to Derbyshire, and now she faced her first visit to Darcy House as his future bride.
The news that they were to remain there for the night was thrilling. Being careful and considerate, Darcy wanted to avoid their travelling through London during moonless darkness. Yet, Elizabeth dared to hope for another reason—that, in his heart, he longed for her presence to linger through the night.
A strong emotion enveloped her as she thought about spending those hours in his house…with him…although obviously in separate rooms.
"I wonder who will attend the dinner," Mr Gardiner murmured.
"And I wonder what our children will do, alone, with their governess for the entire night." Mrs Gardiner laughed. "And who will attend the dinner, of course!"
"Come, my dear, the children stayed with the governess for a week last Christmas. You have no reason to worry."
"Well, they are four against one. Even with Tom and Sarah to help her, they will be outnumbered, so I always worry," Mrs Gardiner jested.
