“Nor I,” he admitted, looking ahead. “But I cannot regret the path that led us here.”
She turned to face him, her expression wistful. “I only wish Jane were here to share in my happiness.”
“I am sorry that her absence has marred this moment. Perhaps you can see each other sooner than you think. I must travel to town in a few days. If your father does not object, you could come with me and reunite with your sister.”
Elizabeth paused for a moment. “Travel to London?”
“One of your sisters may accompany us. Or Mrs. Collins, perhaps, if she feels up to travelling again.”
A wide smile spread on her face. "It would mean so much to me to see Jane again soon. I know she must have fretted for me as much as I have for her. To tell her all that has happened, to share this happiness with her, would make it all feel complete."
"Then I shall do my best to obtain your father's permission. Now that I am in his good favour, I do not think it will be so difficult."
They reached the carriage and stood before each other holding hands. Darcy stole a quick glance at the house to ensure there were no prying eyes and gave her a fleeting kiss on the lips.
“Good night, dearest Elizabeth. I shall see you tomorrow.”
“Good night, my dear William.”
Chapter 20 – Sisterly Reunion
Five days later, Elizabeth and Darcy set out for London, accompanied by Charlotte Collins. With Mr. Bennet’s consent obtained and their plans settled, express letters were dispatched, announcing Elizabeth’s engagement and the couple’s imminent arrival in town to purchase her wedding clothes.
Most of the journey passed in quiet anticipation. To be reunited with Jane and share her newfound happiness with her beloved sister had been Elizabeth’s most enduring thought since her betrothal. Yet, as the carriage neared Gracechurch Street, old apprehensions began to stir. As much as her wishes laid in another direction, not everything ahead would consist of pleasant walks in the park or attending glittering assemblies with her betrothed. The inevitable introductions to Darcy’s distinguished family must take place, and some of them might regard with suspicion her entrance into a sphere so far removed from her own. And then she had to consider her London relatives. The Bingley sisters had made no secret of their disdain for the Gardiners, but Elizabeth trusted—indeed, she was certain—that Darcy was made of sterner, fairer stuff. After all, her aunt and uncle were the only relations of whom she would never be ashamed.
The carriage rolled to a stop before the Gardiner residence, and within moments, the household door swung open. Elizabeth had scarcely set foot on the cobblestones before Jane was in her arms. Dear Jane! How she had missed the warmth of that embrace. Eyesglistening, she drew back just enough to study her sister’s face—and blinked in astonishment! Radiant! Elizabeth had braced herself to find her sister subdued, still mourning the loss of her dearest hope. Instead, joy shone in Jane’s eyes. Relief flooded Elizabeth’s chest so swiftly her heart seemed to leap, for now her own happiness would not feel so unjust.
The hubbub quieted somewhat when Elizabeth introduced Darcy to her aunt and young cousins. He greeted them with a civility that exceeded her every hope—cordial, attentive, even smiling amidst the flurry of chatter. Elizabeth’s heart swelled with a secret pride.HerDarcy, at ease among her relations, his manner unstudied and kind, was showing her—without a single declaration—that he was indeed capable of change.
But the greatest surprise awaited her in the drawing room.
“Mr. Bingley?”
Her breath caught. There he was, comfortably engaged in conversation with Uncle Gardiner, as though he had always belonged there. At their entrance, Mr. Bingley rose at once and greeted them with his usual good humour. Elizabeth’s eyes flew to Darcy. He met her glance with a half-smile and a slight shake of his head, as if dismissing the meeting as mere chance.
Was it? Or had Darcy played a hand in this? She suspected the latter, and if so, she would have much to thank him for.
Darcy, in excellent spirits, extended an invitation to dine at his house in two days’ time. He left half an hour later, promising to call on Elizabeth in the morning and take her and Jane for a drive through Hyde Park. Bingley, enthusiastic as ever, expressed his desire to join them, and plans were soon made. Charlotte, still observing strict mourning, declined the invitation but seemed genuinely pleased at the happiness of both couples.
***
Once they were alone, Jane turned to Elizabeth, her expression shifting from delight to astonishment.
“I cannot believe what you are telling me—our cousin, a murderer?” she exclaimed, her fair brow furrowing. “He always seemed such a peaceful man.”
“That was the constable’s conclusion, though Mr. Darcy still has doubts,” Elizabeth replied, settling on the bed.
Jane shuddered. “Poor Charlotte. And poor you, to have lived through such horrid events. I would have been terrified.”
“They were difficult times,” Elizabeth said, “but I was never in danger. Mr. Darcy ensured that.”
Jane shook her head. Her sister was still trying to grasp the enormity of it all. “And Lady Catherine, threatening him! And Mr. Wickham—such a libertine! Lizzy, this sounds like something from a gothic novel.”
“Does it not?” Elizabeth laughed lightly, eager to steer the conversation away from such grim topics. “But enough of these horrors. Tell me about Mr. Bingley. How did you meet again? He seems quite taken with you.”
Jane’s cheeks tinged pink. “He visited more than a week ago, as soon as he heard I was in London, and has come every day since. I wrote to you about it just a few days ago. The letter must still be on its way to Longbourn.”
“Jane, I am so happy for you!” Elizabeth clasped her sister’s hands. “You too will soon be engaged.”
