As they came back to the house, the sun was just beginning to set. Jane and Mr. Bingley took the steps quickly, but Mr. Darcy stopped, pulling back gently on Elizabeth’s arm. He looked down at her hand in his, giving it a tender stroke with his fingertips. He glanced up and searched her face. “You have yet to answer my last question, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Your last question?” she asked breathlessly. “Which one was that?” She truly could not comprehend anything beyond the touch of his hand.
“If you choose to reside with your sister, your elder sister, that is, what are your feelings about living in such close proximity to Pemberley?”
Elizabeth pinched her brows down in contemplation. “Pemberley is a fine house,” she said, making a vain attempt at concealing a smile. “One could not ask for a finer estate to have in one’s neighbourhood.”
He lay her hand flat against his open hand and stroked it with his other hand. “I believe you know my point was that I would be your neighbour.”
Elizabeth felt her heart would burst, it beat so fervently. He stood so close; her small hand now pressed between both of his, and his eyes searched her face. “I think…” she said slowly as she forced herself to breathe and think clearly. “I would very much like it.”
Mr. Darcy must have been holding his breath as well, for as soon as the words were out of her mouth, he released a long puff of air. “I am very glad to hear that.”
He gently squeezed her hand and then reluctantly released it as the two proceeded into the house. Once they crossed the threshold, he released her arm, but her heart he would not relinquish.
Chapter 24
When Elizabeth and her companions entered the house, she found that her uncle had returned and Wickham had arrived. When they stepped into the drawing room, Elizabeth not only saw—but felt—the glare Wickham levelled at Darcy as he lifted his gaze beyond her to him. Wickham immediately looked back at Elizabeth, and a forced smile appeared as he walked over to greet her. “Good afternoon, Miss Elizabeth.” Despite his air of self-assurance, his voice faltered. “It is good to see you again.”
“Hello, Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth uttered through a clenched jaw, followed by a mumbled wish for felicity in his marriage to her sister. He expressed an appreciation for her kind wishes, but she paid little heed to his words.
She abruptly excused herself to go over and greet her sisters, but kept her eye on Mr. Darcy to see how he would proceed. He turned away from Wickham immediately, forgoing any sort of greeting, and walked to the far side of the room. He lowered himself into a chair near her aunt, and they began to converse.
She greeted each of her sisters with a hug, truly pleased to see them, yet saddened for the attitude both Lydia and Kitty displayed. While they talked excitedly of the wedding, in whispers they derided the admonitions their uncle had placed upon the newly engaged couple.
The Gardiners’ home, being only of modest size, had a dining room that would comfortably accommodate eight. For that reason, Mrs. Gardiner asked Elizabeth, Jane, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy to dine together in the smaller breakfast room while the others gathered in the dining room.
Elizabeth was grateful for the separate, more intimate arrangement. When they sat down to dine, the voices from the other room were often raised and excitable, particularly those of Lydia and her mother. Elizabeth rarely heard her aunt or uncle, or even Mr. Wickham. She wondered with spiteful curiosity how much he was enjoying these people who were to become his own family. Then she wondered how Mr. Darcy would tolerate certain members of her family.
Despite the occasional discomfiture brought on by the outbursts coming from the dining room, Elizabeth truly enjoyed the camaraderie that the foursome shared as they dined. Jane and Mr. Bingley were exceptionally happy—she could almost tangibly feel the love they had for one another. It was also apparent that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy had a deep, abiding friendship. As Elizabeth watched their interactions, she readily noticed the respect the two had for one another.
Later, when everyone gathered together in the drawing room, Elizabeth felt again the lack of decorum that several family members exhibited. She often found herself recoiling at something one of them did or said. Save for Jane and her aunt and uncle, her family obligingly gave hearty confirmation to Elizabeth of their ill manners. Mr. Darcy stiffened at every outburst or reckless deed, seeking solace by turning his eyes to Elizabeth’s face.
Later that evening when Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy were about to take their leave, Jane opportunely asked Elizabeth to step out with her to say good-bye to the gentlemen. Elizabeth was delighted to oblige her. At the least, she might be able to leave Mr. Darcy with a final memory of the evening that was more agreeable than what he endured during the last few hours.
When they stepped out into the cool evening air, the engaged couple walked ahead toward the waiting carriage. Mr. Darcy stopped and turned to Elizabeth.
“Bingley and I shall be gone for three or four days,” he said. “I shall return in time for the wedding.”
Elizabeth’s eyes saddened, and she let out a long sigh. “Yes, the wedding.” She looked up at him. “You are confident Mr. Wickham will not flee in your absence?”
Hoping to lighten her mood, Darcy asked, “Did I not tell you that I keep him bound and gagged?”
Elizabeth let out a soft chuckle, appreciating Darcy’s humour in such a dreadful situation. “Yes, you did, sir. I must have forgotten.”
“May I… when I return, may I call on you here?”
The only light came from inside the home, but Elizabeth readily could see the intensity of Mr. Darcy’s gaze. He searched her face as he awaited her answer.
She nodded slowly and smiled. “I should like that very much. I look forward to your return.”
He let out a long breath of air and smiled in return. “I am glad.”
He turned to leave, but Elizabeth reached out her hand and wrapped her fingers about his arm, bringing him to a halt. He turned to look at her and then very slowly covered her hand with his. A smile appeared, one of many that Elizabeth had seen directed at her tonight. “Miss Bennet?” he said. “Ought we not join your sister and Bingley? I cannot vouch for his behaviour. We may need to serve as their chaperones.”
“In due time. There is a matter of great import to me which requires an answer.”
He tilted his head. “And what would that be?”
“I asked you earlier, but you never answered directly.” Elizabeth pursed her lips tightly together and then released them, taking in a short breath. “Why did you do all this for Mr. Wickham… for my family?”
He brought her hand forward and placed his other hand on top of hers, tapping it lightly with his fingers. “Do you truly not know?”
Her heart pounded so strongly she wondered whether he could hear it. She moistened her lips and answered with a single raised brow, “We have had a history of misunderstanding each other. I do not wish to be under any misapprehension because of something that was not explicitly communicated.”
“Hmmm,” Darcy murmured, stroking her hand with his fingers. “You see, Miss Bennet, I…” he spoke slowly, taking great care to articulate what he wished to say in a manner that would not be misunderstood. “I find that my regard for you has endured… and grown… since its very inception.”
As he spoke, Elizabeth felt her heart pound so that it almost constricted her throat.
His weight shifted from one foot to another. “I do not consider my actions regarding Wickham and your sister at all foolish. I determined as soon as you informed me of his complicity that I would do whatever I could to remedy the situation because…” His chest heaved with a breath. His voice was deep and low as he continued, “Because I love you, Elizabeth. I love you more than anything.” He took a step closer to her.