“Elizabeth, Gardiner, and I have spent the day together. We rode out to see the old mine at the far western edge of the estate, which gave us plenty of opportunity to converse. I made inquiries about the mills along the River Derwent near Cromford. It seems they are seeking to expand and require investors. I am inclined to consider it.”
They seated themselves near the fire, and Elizabeth listened with interest as he spoke of his plans. She asked many questions, and as he answered them, his resolution strengthened. The excitement surrounding the pioneering machinery and the growing system of factories appeared to him a venture of both profit and consequence.
That night, after he had fallen asleep, Elizabeth lay awake in his arms, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his heart. Tears gathered in her eyes, tears of love for the man beside her, and of gratitude for the life now before her.
Her thoughts turned to her mother, and she was surprised to find that the remembrance no longer pained her. Mrs. Bennet had done what she could within the limits of her understanding. She had not been an educated woman. Her brother had studied and risen in the world, but she and Mrs. Phillips had remained as they were.
It would fall to Elizabeth to do better for her own daughters, and she resolved that she would, in whatever measure she could, help Kitty improve her mind.
Comforted with those thoughts, she at last fell asleep.
Chapter 53: The Ball at Matlock House
Elizabeth turned from the elderly gentleman to whom she had just been presented and allowed her gaze to travel down the line. The earl and countess stood at its head, followed by the viscount and his lady, then Richard and his wife. Fitzwilliam stood next, and she herself brought up the end.
Her eyes lingered, despite herself, upon her husband’s tall, masculine form. He was striking in black evening dress, every line of him composed and assured. She, too, felt well pleased with her appearance. Her gown of jonquil silk, overlaid with the finest net, shimmered softly at her bare shoulders, lending an air of lightness that set off the graceful line of her neck and collar bones. The bodice, artfully cut, and the fall of the skirt, which draped her figure alluringly before floating to the floor, combined to a pleasing effect.
At her throat lay a diamond necklace he had drawn from the family vault. She felt again the warmth of his touch as he had fastened it, the brush of his lips at her shoulder.
“This was my mother’s. She wore it on her wedding day.”
And then, more softly still, “Elizabeth, you are very beautiful.”
Her thoughts returned to the present. She must already have been introduced to three hundred people.
She knew she would never remember them all, yet Fitzwilliam had insisted it was imperative she be presented to his circle.
At last, they were released, and he led her out for the first dance. Throughout it, his eyes sought hers, and whenever they met, he smiled.
At the close, he bent near. “My dear, every waltz is mine, as is the supper set.”
“Mr. Darcy, I am quite honored, sir. For a gentleman who professes to dislike the ballroom, your attentions are very marked.”
He chuckled, amused. “You are a tease, Elizabeth. I shall not forget it.”
At that moment, a young gentleman approached and requested her hand. She accepted and was soon led back into the set.
Elizabeth danced nearly every dance until the first waltz. When at last it came, her husband returned to claim her.
“My dear, you have been much sought after. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I am, Fitzwilliam. I have never attended so grand an affair. I begin to understand you better, sir, now that I see the elevated world in which you have long moved.”
He chuckled. “In truth, I spent little time in Town. I came out for only one season. My father brought me, and when he died, I did not return. I have always preferred my quiet life at Pemberley.”
“Surely you attended such assemblies in search of a wife?”
“No, Elizabeth. I had not seriously thought of marriage until this year, for I am soon to be nine and twenty. After my regrettable conduct at the Netherfield ball, I was compelled to acknowledge my desire to marry you. That desire became a necessity whenI learned you were soon to be betrothed to Allen.” He glanced about the room. “Where is Allen? He was invited.”
“Perhaps he has not yet arrived.”
The music began, and he led her into the waltz. It was exquisite to be held within the circle of his arms, without fear of censure, though he drew her nearer than was quite proper. When the dance ended, he did not release her at once.
In a whisper, he said, “I could dance all night with you, darling.”
“Then pray do. Would it be improper for a wife to dance three sets with her husband?”
A rakish smile touched his lips. “Not in the least. I am your husband, and the host besides. I shall claim another. Consult your card and tell me which is mine, and I shall see that it is a waltz.”
