“Tell me.”
Elizabeth briefly explained Kitty’s discovery of the papers and their quiet delivery that afternoon.
“I cannot leave her here without feeling I am doing to her what was once done to me. Yet I do not know how to help her.”
“Madeline helped you where she could,” Lord Matlock said. “Did she not?”
“Yes.”
“Then when we return to London we shall speak of it properly. Your wishes will now be consulted. You have my word.”
“Thank you.”
They went downstairs together.
Through the front window Elizabeth could see the carriage waiting in the drive, Darcy and Lord Matlock standing near the door. She paused at the bottom of the stair and looked once more at the hall; the familiar wallpaper, the worn runner, therow of pegs where she had hung her bonnet a thousand times returning from the fields.
Then she stepped into the parlour doorway.
The Bennets stood gathered near the door and turned as she entered.
“I wished to take my leave properly,” she said. “I do not know when, or whether, we shall meet again. Goodbye.”
She went out.
Darcy took the bundle from her hands and passed it to the waiting footman before turning back to her.
“Are you ready?”
“I am.”
“Then let us go home.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
The party returned to Netherfield late in the evening. Darcy's engagement was announced, Miss Bingley received the intelligence with less composure than she afterwards displayed, and Mrs. Hurst found it necessary to remind her that the matter was no longer open to discussion. Reflection restored her usual good sense before dinner, and under the combined influence of Lord and Lady Matlock's presence and her own better judgement, she treated Elizabeth with every proper attention throughout the evening. Mr. Bingley spoke frequently of Jane and of the happiness he expected to find with her. Nobody had the heart to contradict him. By the following morning they had departed for London.
London received them with its usual noise and confusion. Elizabeth had always stayed with the Gardiners during previousvisits to town, and arriving instead at Matlock House felt strange at first. Aunt Deborah, however, seemed determined that it should not remain so.
The days that followed passed quickly; family called almost constantly. Lord and Lady Ashford came frequently, Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared within hours of learning they had returned to town, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were scarcely absent.
By the end of the week Matlock House had settled into a comfortable routine. Elizabeth found herself consulted, included, and argued with so naturally that she sometimes forgot she had not belonged there all her life.
The first large family dinner was held several evenings after their arrival. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner came, and Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Lord and Lady Ashford. What had begun as a family dinner became, almost immediately, a lively conversation, with everyone speaking at once and nobody appearing inclined to stop.
"I give her a month," Lady Ashford declared.
"A month?" said Mrs. Gardiner. "You are remarkably generous."
Elizabeth looked up. "A month until what?"
"Until you decide never to leave Pemberley."
"I have not even seen Pemberley."
"No," Lady Ashford agreed. "Which is why you still imagine you have a choice."
"Amelia," Ashford said mildly.
