She touched the flowers, then turned to him.
“We have a greenhouse here,” he said, smiling at her delight. “Here, and at Pemberley—they were built for my mother.”
Standing before her future bed, she blushed as he embraced her gently.
“I can hardly wait for you to come here—and to change everything, here and at Pemberley.”
“I would not change anything,” she replied.
“You will. You will come with your own ways, and before long, both houses will be yours.”
She coloured again when they entered his bedroom, where his dressing gowns lay upon the bed. He did not kiss her there. It is too dangerous, he thought. One touch, and I shall lose all command.
He led her next to the music room, where the pianoforte stood ready for Georgiana. Sheets of music lay scattered everywhere.
“No one has the right to interfere here and impose order upon my sister’s music.”
Back on the ground floor, she saw the parlour, the drawing room, and the dining room, where the table was already set for supper.
He then took her into the ballroom, inviting her to imagine the first ball they would hold after their marriage. He bowed, and they danced together to music heard only by themselves.
In the greenhouse, she moved happily among the plants and flowers, while he stood watching her, absorbed by the grace of her figure.
“Thank you, Anne de Bourgh,” he murmured more than once that day, each time he looked at the woman who would be his wife.
They took tea, interrupted by kisses and caresses, and at last spoke of how they were to pass the coming year.
“Lady Eleanor and Lady Wharton will guide you, and in two weeks we shall go to Lady Axton’s.”
Elizabeth smiled—that particular smile he had already learnt to recognise.
“Lady Axton, you say. Miss Bingley assured me I should never be invited to such a place.”
“It appears she was mistaken.”
“Imagine what a wealth of gossip they now possess,” she said, still teasing him.
She did not care for gossip or malice, and he was beginning to learn this from her. His life must depend on what stood openly before him, not on what was whispered behind his back.
“Tell me about your family and friends,” Elizabeth said as she moved about the parlour.
Darcy drew her before his mother’s portrait and held her there.
“I am afraid she would not have approved of me…” Elizabeth whispered.
“Do not speak so, Elizabeth Bennet. My mother wished only for our happiness. Before she died, she told me she hoped I would marry a kind and worthy woman. I believe that thought guided me—though I mistook it when I chose Anne. It is strange to think that our mistakes have led us here. I almost feel that my mother spared me a far greater error.”
Elizabeth touched his face with tenderness. Between them, there was not only passion, but affection—and something steadier, which neither had expected so soon.
He then spoke to her of his family and friends, and of Lady Axton, who seemed to govern the most fashionable circles of London.
“Are you certain she will like me?” Elizabeth asked.
“I am entirely certain.”
And he told her the story of the lady who had conquered London and now ruled it with ease.
Chapter 24
