Chapter 16
Darcy returned shortly before dinner, in better spirits. He had slept, and in his eyes she read the remembrance of some dreams in which she had been present.The eyes cannot speak, Elizabeth Bennet, she reproved herself. Yet, it signified little, for she felt assured of the message they conveyed. They sought to check their own happiness, though Lady Matlock, absorbed in her own concerns, took scarcely any notice of what passed around her.
“Pray excuse me,” she said to Elizabeth, touching her cheek with the gentlest motion. “I rejoice for you both; yet with each passing hour, my anxiety increases. I have relinquished the hope that Miss Henry harboured no concealed design in attaching herself to Richard.”
The young people seated themselves in some haste upon a settee before her.
“Lady Stafford did indeed receive Miss Henry and her aunt, but it was in February. Since then, they have rented a house.”
“But your friend declared that Lady Stafford had received them in the summer!” cried Mary.
“Yes—and it is alarming that none can speak with certainty of their doings in London. I am persuaded it was they who spread this false news.”
“Then they have no house in London?” asked Darcy.
“No. I ought to have consented to take her with us to Pemberley.”
“Richard requested it of you?”
“Yes. He wanted her to be our guest in his absence. I should have agreed. It is wiser to keep one’s adversaries within sight.”
“What do you mean?” Darcy’s voice was so gentle that Elizabeth’s heart melted with love. He was tender and considerate towards all his family. “At that time, she was not your enemy.”
“No, you are right. I merely disliked her.”
“But at Pemberley you said—”
“What would you have had me say before such a company, that I distrusted my son’s choice? You cannot know what your poor father and I endured from your grandmother, the Dowager Lady Matlock. Of all the family, she liked only Sir Lewis de Bourgh—and that, I believe, was because he remained silent in her presence.”
“I did not know it,” Darcy said, much interested.
“No, children seldom do. For the sake of that old grievance, I was resolved to think well of Miss Henry in spite of my feelings, and was certain that in time I should receive her into my heart.”
“But why—how did you know?”
Lady Matlock paused. “Look at the young lady beside you.”
Darcy did as his aunt directed and seen his radiant betrothed.
“We spent a week together at Pemberley, and I am certain her affection did not begin this morning.”
Elizabeth sought to hide her blush by fixing her gaze upon the intricate pattern of the carpet, yet her emotion was manifest.
“See how she blushes,” Lady Matlock said fondly. “She was near you for a week at Pemberley, and not once did she betray her feelings. And I am a most observant person. I discerned it only by your manner…” She smiled at her nephew. “But when Richard presented Miss Henry, she comported herself as a wife—so improper, so over-familiar—”
She broke off, for all understood the implication.
“She is with him in Eastbourne,” Lady Matlock said, tears filling her eyes. “That wicked, wicked woman!”
For some moments, they remained in silence. Then she spoke again. “I shall retire to my apartment, and I am certain Miss Mary will gladly return to the library. Pray, Darcy, receive Mr and Mrs Gardiner, and we will join you at dinner.”
Elizabeth watched her depart with warm regard. In so short a time, she had grown attached to this lady, so unlike the women of her acquaintance.
“She is considerate enough to let us enjoy the announcement we are about to make,” Elizabeth said.
“She is fond of you…she is not merely polite,” Darcy replied with a smile, well knowing his aunt’s nature.
“Oh, I am so glad,” Elizabeth answered, though he had already taken her into his arms. “My aunt and uncle are coming.” She made some effort to resist, but it was in vain. His lips upon hers made her forget every care. He was tender, yet insistent, and she yielded at last to the tide of feeling he had unleashed in her. She smiled at the word—rightly named this time.
