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He was going to marry this woman, even if their families dismantled his estate piece by piece.

Chapter Nine: Second Helpings

Elizabeth sat at the writing desk in her bedchamber, a letter to Jane lying almost blank before her. She had written “My dear Jane” and then held her quill above the page until a drop of ink fell beside the words. She could tell her sister how Uncle Edward was enduring his sprained ankle and how kind Miss Darcy had been to them. Even the events in the billiards room could be made fit for a letter, though Jane might think she had exaggerated. It was Mr Darcy she could not bring herself to describe.

He had asked her to marry him once, and she had refused with a certainty she no longer possessed. There were moments when she thought his feelings for her had survived that refusal. Even if they had, she could hardly expect him to risk receiving the same answer twice. Elizabeth set down the quill. The letter could wait.

She left her room and went down to breakfast.

“Madeline, I have a cushion.”

“That one is for your ankle.” Aunt Madeline slipped another behind Uncle Edward’s back. “This is to keep you from reaching for the marmalade.”

Elizabeth came into the breakfast room as her uncle attempted to explain that the distance between him and the marmalade was greatly exaggerated. Mr Darcy stood at the sideboard, smiling at the exchange. He saw her, set down his plate, and came forward to greet her.

“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. I trust you slept well?”

“Very well, thank you.” She took her place beside her aunt, conscious of his attention while she unfolded her napkin. “And you, sir?”

“Quite well, thank you.” He resumed his seat, still smiling at her uncle’s discussion. Elizabeth had begun to recognise the difference between that smile and the courteous one he offered to strangers. It made looking away rather difficult.

Martin served her tea, Bates nowhere in sight. Elizabeth suspected he had earned a morning out of view, although she could not decide whether it was a reward or a precaution.

“I am sorry, Miss Elizabeth. Mrs Annesley expects me for my lessons, and I shall have very little time to spend with you.” Georgiana’s face was full of regret.

“You have spent a great deal of time with me already. I should feel quite wicked if I kept you from your lessons.”

“I could have them in the afternoon.”

“You said that yesterday,” Mr Darcy observed.

Georgiana lowered her eyes to her toast. “I did not say it to Mrs Annesley.”

“A wise distinction,” Uncle Edward noted. “I have found that I am most agreeable when the person to whom I make a promise is not present to hear it.”

“We are well aware of it,” his wife said, lifting an eyebrow.

Georgiana laughed, and some of the concern left her face. Elizabeth assured her that an entire morning with her aunt and uncle was a pleasure, particularly now that her uncle could be trusted to remain in one room.

“I had thought of taking the party out on the lake,” Mr Darcy mused. “The storm put an end to that. A branch has come down near the landing, and the water is still high. We shall wait until both are cleared. Perhaps we may go another day.”

Another day. Elizabeth buttered her scone diligently. “I should like that.” He glanced at her, then down at his plate.

“I must meet my steward this morning. We have reports of trees across the northern track and damage to two roofs. I hope the tenant families had no further trouble overnight. These summer storms are very bothersome.”

Elizabeth wished him success, and he took his leave soon afterwards. Georgiana went to find Mrs Annesley, with a promise to return as soon as her companion permitted it.

Uncle Edward watched the door close behind her. “If Miss Darcy discovers a useful Italian phrase for telling a physician that one’s ankle is perfectly serviceable, I hope she will share it with me.”

“Mr Donelson will have an opportunity to judge for himself,” Aunt Madeline remarked. “He is due this morning.”

“Apothecaries,” Uncle Edward replied, “are prejudiced against ankles. It is the nature of their profession.”

The front knocker sounded before his wife could answer. Soon Mr Donelson appeared in the doorway with his medical bag, followed closely by Mrs Lovejoy.

She wore a bright yellow gown and a bonnet ornamented with cherries. The fruit bobbed when she greeted them, so that Elizabeth stared at it when she ought to have been looking at Mrs Lovejoy.

“I hope you will forgive my coming unannounced. I saw Mr Donelson setting out from Lambton and asked if he could bring me. A letter for Miss Elizabeth arrived at the Black Swan, and I thought she would want it at once.” She opened her reticule. “Here you are, my dear.”