Page 66 of Conundrums & Coincidences

Unsure how the kiss had been initiated or by whom, he drew back to look into her eyes. They were closed. Her kissable lips were still slightly parted. To indulge one’s appetites without restraint is not the action of a gentleman. To indulge one’s appetites without restraint is not the action of a gentleman. To indulge one’s appetites without restraint is not the action of a gentleman.

Nobility of restraint asserted itself. Gently, he moved her hands from his neck and held them. “Elizabeth, we should go.”

“No. Not yet.”

“We must. But before we do, I have something to give you.” He backed away and reached into his breast pocket. “This was the first gift, and sadly the last, that I chose for my mother. And it will be the first of many for you.” He placed a tiny velvet pouch upon her palm. “’Tis nought but an amusing, decorative trifle, but I hope you might like it.”

She pulled the strings and tipped the pouch onto her glove. “Oh, how lovely!” The silver brooch featured a pair of long-tailed barn swallows perched upon a branch of rose-cut diamonds. “I love watching the aerial performances of these birds and listening to their musical twittering. Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “I shall wear it every day while you are gone.”

Then, with most exquisite misery and utter despondency, Darcy and Elizabeth bade one another farewell until they would meet at the altar in fifteen days.

As Darcy left the assembly room and entered his carriage, he hoped the six Bennet ladies had returned to Longbourn in good spirits.

Good humour was not the case at Netherfield.

“I still do not understand why you went to such bother, Mr Darcy, just to rectify a silly little remark you made to Eliza Bennet eight months ago.”

“How would you feel, Miss Bingley, if I said within your hearing that you are not handsome enough to tempt me?”

She gave a ladylike little laugh and smiled beautifully at him. “But you never would say that of me, sir.” At the look on his face, her smile faltered. “Would you?”

When he did not answer, she sniffed. “And what could Eliza have meant by wearing the same dreary gown she wore eight months ago? And you! To have danced with her twice, sir! Why, you might as well have declared yourself to the entire assembly! I cannot imagine how you are going to resolve such a conundrum.”

31

DEARLY BELOVED

On Friday the third of July, wandering along the chalk bourn, away from prying eyes, Elizabeth broke the seal on the first of her letters and opened it. The hint of juniper that wafted outwards and upwards all too soon dissipated in a gentle breeze that, together with the sun, began drying the earth after two days of rain.

Missing Mr Darcy and their daily conversations, which had become so very precious to her, she was a trifle disappointed to perceive only one sheet of letter paper, although it was written quite through, as was the envelope. A se’nnight had passed since their passionate farewell; so, with every expectation of pleasure, she read his words while her feet followed a well-worn path beside the stream.

Pemberley

June 29, 1812

My beloved Elizabeth,

I trust you and your loved ones are in good health. As I am blessed and fortunate enough to count myself amongst those you love, I assure you I am well.

As must be evident by now, I have arrived home safe and sound. But, despite the bustle within these walls, my home is empty and dull without you. Home has become the place I find only in your company and, particularly, in your arms.

At times, I feel as though I have gone quite mad. What IS that enticing fragrance you wear? I think it must be violet—soft, tender, powdery, romantic. Then I walk through a meadow of clover, and I think of you. Honey and vanilla remind me of the sweet taste of your kiss. Good heavens, even salads of lettuce, apple, and fresh cucumber evoke your freshness. Dare I say that I hunger for you?

Perhaps it is for the best that I have responsibilities occupying much of my time, but thoughts of you—never intrusive, always welcome—frequently distract me from whatever task is at hand. You are with me not only throughout daylight hours but at night when my work is done and I am at leisure to imagine our life together here in this ancestral home. And when I eventually drift into slumber, you are there, too, in my dreams. I cannot escape you, it seems. Not that I want to, I assure you!

Nevertheless, estate matters are being addressed. Sadly, I arrived a day too late to say a last farewell to Mr Ward but not too late to be a pallbearer at my friend’s funeral. His nephew is settling into the position for which his uncle trained him, and I am confident all will be well in that regard.

Mrs Reynolds, our housekeeper, is eager to welcome you to your new home. Our preparations are progressing nicely, and we pray that—upon completion—the improvements to Mrs Darcy’s apartments will please you. I must admit, Elizabeth, that the very thought of you in those rooms thrills me.

Be forewarned, however, that there has been an unavoidable delay in the installation of a door to connect the master’s bedchamber to the mistress’s. Shall I ask Mrs Reynolds to prepare guest apartments for you, or would you consider sharing mine for the foreseeable future?

I imagine you now sport an attractive blush upon your cheeks, but I do not mean to make you uncomfortable. I may be reserved—or, as someone once put it, taciturn—but, much like you, I say as I like. Your maidenly modesty is expected, I suppose, but we are, very soon, to be husband and wife.

Helpmates, Elizabeth. You and I. Each of us speaking frankly and contributing to our marriage, to this home, this estate, and, God willing, to our children’s well-being and future happiness.

I shall leave you now with those thoughts. Please send me yours in return and assure me all is well and that my candid words have not sent you running for the hills.

Yours for evermore,