“All the more reason to consider it now, so that you shall be prepared once you are face to face once more,” Elizabeth declared. “Come, we shall play it out as we lie down!”
Smiling, Jane acquiesced and blew out the candle before they both crawled beneath the covers.
“Dearest, loveliest Jane,” Elizabeth said, trying to make her voice deep and yet enthused, as Bingley always seemed to be.
Jane dissolved into giggles immediately, and Elizabeth hit her with a pillow, laughing herself.
“Stop it, you must not laugh in Bingley’s face or he might go away again!”
“I can’t help it, you sounded as though you’d swallowed a frog!” Jane gasped out between chortles.
“I do not!” Elizabeth hit her with the pillow again, and Jane retaliated, until both of them were breathless from laughter and collapsed against the mattress.
It had been the release of tension she needed, Elizabeth thought, still wakeful as Jane’s breathing quickly slowed to the soft rhythm of sleep. What a strange, exhausting and stressful few days it had been! To find Lydia not only safe, but grown suddenly into maturity and common sense was as much a shock as finding her engaged to Colonel Fitzwilliam, ofallpeople.
And then there was Mr Darcy.
In the quiet stillness, Elizabeth lay staring at the ceiling, but what she saw was that look in Mr Darcy’s eyes when he was talking to her and holding her hands earlier. A look he had bent on her no small number of times ever since she had encountered him once again at Pemberley. She could no longer fool herself; he held her in as high regard as ever he had, despite the awful way she had treated him at Hunsford.
What Elizabeth was still not entirely certain of was her own feelings. She had, of course, been rethinking her every interaction with Mr Darcy ever since she learned of the truth of his association with Mr Wickham. And she was honest enough to admit to herself that seeing the magnificence of Pemberley had made her reassess him again; she was not insensible to the honour a man of Mr Darcy’s consequence in the world did her with his attentions.
It was not until his actions after she received Jane’s letters, though, that she began to see the true measure of the man. His determination to see Wickham dealt with and Lydia rescued, not to mention his obvious care for Elizabeth in her distress, had a most profound effect on Elizabeth, and lying there in the dark she finally admitted to herself that she was coming to care for Mr Darcy very strongly indeed.
Perhaps even to love him.
The following morning saw them all in church, occupying several pews, listening respectfully to the sermon as they waited for the banns to be called. Lady Catherine joined them, sitting in regal state beside her friend Lady Carshalton, who turned out to be unexpectedly kind and sweet, pinching Lydia’s cheek and pronouncing her to be a pretty, lively girl and just the ticket to make Fitzwilliam happy.
Lady Catherine harrumphed under her breath, but said nothing to contradict. Mrs Bennet made a point of flattering her ladyship and saying how honoured they should be to receive her at Longbourn for the wedding in a few weeks’ time, and how they hoped Miss de Bourgh would be well enough to travel to see her cousin married too.
Lady Catherine’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as Mrs Bennet mentioned Anne, and Darcy wasn’t at all surprised when his aunt drew him aside as they left the church, grasping onto his arm and scowling up at him.
“Now Darcy,” she began. “I will go along with this farce because you haven’t left me a great deal of choice, but...”
“I’m not going to marry Anne.” He cut her off before she could even begin. It was obvious where the conversation was headed: she planned to demand he announce his engagement to Anne in return for her appearance of enthusiasm for Fitzwilliam and Lydia’s match.
“Darcy!” Lady Catherine swelled up like a bullfrog, her face turning an alarming shade of puce.
“Before you even begin, Aunt, you should know that Anne informed me years ago that should you ever manage to browbeat me into proposing, she would decline the offer. She is determined to never marry, because her doctors have long advised her that attempting to carry a child would mean her certain death, a fact of which I know you are also well aware.”
He had taken the wind right out of his aunt’s sails. Her high colour drained away, and her mouth opened and closed several times.
“Your mother and I had hoped,” she began finally, before trailing off.
“Your daughter’s life must come before your hopes, Aunt,” Darcy said, not unkindly. “My mother would never have wanted Anne to risk her health. And you must think of your own future! Should Anne pass away in an unsuccessful attempt to have a child, one of her de Bourgh cousins inherits Rosings. What would you do, in that case?”
“Darcy!” Lady Catherine clutched at her chest. “Do not even speak of such dreadful possibilities!”
“Then stop trying to make them come to pass!” He gentled his tone when she started back a little. “For her own sake, Anne should not marry, and she is quite reconciled to it. Allow yourself to accept it, and your daughter for who she is, and I think you will both be much happier.”
“Well,” Lady Catherine said, in a tone which seemed to imply she thought she ought to be outraged by his plain speaking interference, but could not argue with his logic. “But then whatof you, Darcy?” she asked after a moment of stunned silence. Her eyes narrowed. “You cannot possibly be thinking... no, I will not have it. Bad enough Fitzwilliam is marrying into that family! His mésalliance meansyoumust seek a truly great match, to counter the degradation.”
“Aunt Catherine,” Darcy said, his tone not unkind, “I must beg you not to speak to me on matters which are absolutely none of your business.”
“Well!”
A little to his surprise, she did not swell up and change colour again, but looked at him thoughtfully. “It is not like you to be rude, Darcy,” she said finally. “I can only conclude that you are frightfully in love with the chit and will fight tooth and nail to have her, and you were quite correct yesterday... I do not wish to see this family broken apart.”
“And you quite like crossing wits with Elizabeth,” Darcy noted.
