“You acted wisely, dear Aunt. I regret to say it, but the journey is without sense; I doubt he will obtain any intelligence there.”
“He may be in danger!”
“No. He will only be fatigued; the road is wretched.”
“Yes—now it seems a childish measure.”
Darcy studied her with concern; she seemed indeed older, her noble bearing diminished by anxiety.
“I know not what I should have done withouttheircompany,” she said softly.
And for him,their companymeant Elizabeth was only a few steps away.
When he turned towards the door, she was there—just as beautiful as he remembered, with only a shadow of sleep lingering in her eyes. The surprise, the delight, the unguarded joy that she allowed him to see were beyond anything he had dared to hope; yet all she could read in his face was care. He longed to tell her that he was wonderstruck to find her there, but before he could speak, she was gone.
They both hastened after her.
“Why has she fled?” Lady Matlock asked in astonishment.
“Because I am a fool,” he said.
Scenes from Pemberley returned to her ladyship’s mind; she looked from him to Elizabeth, who had now turned back towards them.Between these two, there is more than friendship, she thought, regretting that she could not, for the present, give voice to her satisfaction.
“Come, my children,” she said, “let us go to breakfast—and pray, behave yourselves. I can bear no further excitement.” Her voice was kindly, with a trace of amusement, as though she understood far more than she expressed.
It was so simple that he could hardly believe it. The unfortunate matter concerning his cousin had brought his aunt to a tacit approval of his choice—or perhaps she might have approved in any event. The truth would remain a mystery.
“Why were you so angry?” Elizabeth asked in a low tone as they followed Lady Matlock into the dining room.
“I am anxious—grievously troubled for Richard—and happy to see you.”
“Then you failed in the last part. I believed you hated me for being here.”
He smiled faintly and kissed her hand without a word.
∞∞∞
When Mary joined them, Elizabeth used those moments to compose herself. He was not angry with her—and that was all that mattered. He had kissed her hand, and she could not help but recall how such a gesture, at Pemberley, had stirred her more than she cared to confess.
His astonishment at Mary’s entrance was genuine; Elizabeth almost laughed. Her heart, freed from doubt, was full of love once more.Feel remorse, Mr Darcy,she thought,for having judged my family so unkindly.
And remorse there was. Mary was a perfect young lady, with the proper smile and the right words of introduction. Elizabeth wondered where this sister had been concealed. She had flourished in these last days.
“I must know everything,” Darcy said, and Lady Matlock nodded to Mary, inviting her to speak.
For the next hour, Mary commanded their attention. Elizabeth observed, with pride, her sister’s growing self-possession; and her recital was so articulate and judicious that Darcy had only a few questions at its close.
“Everything accords,” he said gravely, and all agreed. “What I ponder is how so intricate a scheme, with all its strange coincidences, should have reached us.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam is too worthy a man to deserve such a fate,” Elizabeth said warmly, earning a look of gratitude from Lady Matlock.
When his aunt left the room, Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “I am profoundly worried.”
“I know. It was our feeling from the first hour, even before we knew for certain that she was the Frenchman’s daughter.”
Before they could say more, Lady Matlock returned.
“Where is the letter?” he asked.
