Chapter 7 Sensational Revelation #3
Amused, Lizzy assured, “I am confident you would never plan an outing if there were the slightest chance of you being tardy, William. I asked about church because I greatly desire to accompany the two of you if the request is not an imposition.”
In his surprise, Darcy swallowed his bite of lemon mousse a bit too hastily, coughing twice before being able to speak.
“Nothing you request could ever be an imposition, Elizabeth. Having you join us would be a tremendous honor and joy, most assuredly. I only hesitate because I do not want you to feel obligated. Surely you would prefer to worship at the church where the Gardiners do? Is that not where you attend when in Town?”
“You forget that I can count on one hand the number of times I have been in London, and those were some years ago. Even at home, we do not regularly attend, I am embarrassed to admit. I have realized these past weeks, especially while at Westminster Abbey, that faith is of great importance to you, my love. As Mrs. Darcy, it will be my duty and honor to worship in the traditional Darcy family parish, here and at Pemberley.”
Squeezing his hand for emphasis, she declared, “I want to be clear, however, that more important to me than duty is my immense desire to share in your interests because I love you and want to be with you. I long with all my heart to be your wife and partner, William. Standing beside you in church, I can, if only for a short while, feel as if I already am.”
Once again, they lost themselves in a world of their devising.
Eyes locked, Darcy said nothing for several seconds.
Then, slipping his fingers under her palm, he lifted her hand to bestow a lingering kiss to her knuckles.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rough.
A next kiss followed, and then another, a bit closer to her wrist, before Mr. Bennet gruffly clearing his throat reminded them they were not alone.
Tragically, that brief interlude was the extent of the intimacy arranged that evening. Collecting the remaining kisses would have to wait.
* * *
Darcy stood before the parlor window with eyes fixed on the street entering Grosvenor Square. Barring a traffic mishap, which was not unusual in London, the carriage sent to convey Elizabeth safely should return any moment.
Mr. Gardiner kindly offered to provide a vehicle for his niece’s transport to Darcy House, which Darcy appreciated but deemed too risky.
If all the Bennets traveled together, Darcy acquiesced to the use of Mr. Gardiner’s older but adequately maintained carriage.
This time it was Elizabeth alone, however, and he could not permit her to travel without a trusted vehicle and the security of two strong footmen to escort.
Darcy had smoothly refused the generous offer so as not to offend and now waited by the window with bated breath.
Despite his absolute trust in the chosen footmen, Hobbes and Peters, and in the coachman’s superb skills, this was London.
Reliable street conditions and policing—brigands were always around, even on a Sunday morning—meant that anything terrible could happen.
Thus, he exhaled audibly when the familiar coach turned the corner.
“Are you going to dash outside and make sure she wasn’t rattled about excessively?”
Darcy ignored his sister’s teasing comment. The truth is, the idea had occurred to him. Instead, he remained at his post, feigning a calmness he did not feel.
Worry over Elizabeth’s safety while traveling wasn’t the primary cause of his roiling emotions.
Aside from the excitement and intoxicating joy always felt when she was in his presence, he remained overwhelmed by her request to join him at church.
Years before meeting Elizabeth Bennet, one of the deepest desires of his heart was to stand in worship beside the woman he loved.
It conjured images of more than Sunday services, such as the reading of banns, their wedding, and christening babies.
Another item to check off his list of long-held dreams. At times, the promise of fulfilled dreams seemed like a dream itself.
With these musings forefront in his mind, the carriage came to a halt before the townhouse and seconds later his soon-to-be wife was peeking out the door opened by the footman. Darcy’s dreams were now a flesh and blood reality.
Dressed in a lovely, deep-blue gown and ivory velvet pelisse, her bonnet adorned with tiny white flowers and a ribbon matching her dress, Elizabeth was stunningly beautiful.
More than her clothing, however, it was her bearing which caused his heart to soar.
Her bright eyes scanned the townhouse top to bottom with warmth and admiration, a sweet smile curving her lush lips.
Taking Hobbes’s hand, she alit from the carriage, her svelte figure gracefully descending to the walkway.
She said something to Hobbes that made him crack a small smile, and then turned to Peters and the coachman, Mr. Anders, offering, Darcy presumed, her thanks or Sunday blessings or perhaps both.
They looked rather startled, the gesture quite unusual, but politely responded in kind.
Such a small thing, but to Darcy it was immense.
She practically skipped up the front steps, pausing to greet Mr. Travers, whom Darcy could not see from the angle of his window but knew to be the one holding the door open. Sure enough, less than a minute later the butler escorted her into the parlor.
“Miss Elizabeth! You are here! Such a delight, is it not, Brother?”
Understatement of the century. “Yes, indeed, a lovely delight. You are well this morning, I trust, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Quite well, Mr. Darcy.” Her teasing tone and twinkling eyes expressed her amusement over the blandly spoken traditional greetings. “I trust you are well this morning, sir? And you, Miss Darcy? Yes? Fabulous! I am delirious with relief to discover we are all so very well.”
“Oh, Miss Elizabeth. You do make me laugh! I will miss you awfully. Must you really leave tomorrow?”
Sitting on the sofa beside his sister, Elizabeth clasped the girl’s hand. “I am afraid so, my dear Georgiana. Be cheered, as we shall see each other again in just a few weeks.”
“Yes, but only for a day or two before I am forced to return to Town while William whisks you off to Pemberley. It may be months before I am in your company again.”
Resisting an urge to scold her over her histrionics and impertinent liberties, Darcy settled for basic facts.
“Pouting and whining will not change the plans, Georgie. Furthermore, you will be home by Christmas, so less than a month is the accurate interval. Surely you cannot begrudge my time alone with my new bride?”
She flushed and dropped her eyes. “No, of course not—”
“What your brother does not understand,” Elizabeth interjected when Georgiana stammered, “is that women as close as sisters can be quite silly. Almost childish at times. A fault, according to some, perhaps, yet a truth we freely acknowledge as a divinely gifted characteristic of the fairer, gentler sex.” She sighed, as dramatic as his sister, and Darcy half expected her to dab a pretend tear from her eye!
Instead, she turned her face his direction, a saucy look warning him.
“We must be tender with him, my dear, and ever strive to ease his severity with gaiety, as is our purpose in life. To be male has such heavy burdens and tragic deficiencies.”
The sudden chime of the longcase clock striking the half hour distracted from the laugh he attempted to muffled behind a cough. The reminder that it was time to depart also saved him from enduring further feminine whining and dramatics.
Grosvenor Chapel was located on Audley Street a few blocks south of the townhouse. As Darcy explained to Elizabeth on the short ride, the chapel had been his family’s place of worship when in London since shortly after construction in 1731.
“Most of the buildings in this area”—Darcy swept his hand toward the rows of grand townhouses passing the carriage window—“were developed in the early 1700s at the initiation of Sir Richard Grosvenor, the fourth baronet. Our great-grandfather was Sir Richard’s friend, one of the reasons he built the townhouse in Grosvenor Square for the Darcys. ”
“As I learned yesterday, it can pay to have connections in high places upon occasion.”
Darcy laughed. “Quite so, Elizabeth. Whether gaining entrance to the palace or purchasing a home, knowing the right people is beneficial. As for the chapel, my great-grandfather was not a particularly religious man, or so I gathered from the stories. On the rare occasions he attended services with his family, he chose this chapel solely for its proximity and connection to Sir Richard. Our grandfather, however, had a different opinion, both in the application of his faith and reasons for choosing Grosvenor Chapel. Someday I will share more of my family history regarding the former, and since we are nearly there, I shall let you guess on the latter. Bear in mind that I am very like my grandfather in personality and beliefs.”
“Another guessing game, Mr. Darcy? These are proving to be somewhat dangerous.”
“Frankly, I quite enjoy the thrill of danger. It warms the blood and stimulates the…mind.” He winked, satisfied to see a rosy hint touch her adorable cheeks. “However, we should be safe if the prize for this test is jewelry or some other tangible object less hazardous to give.”
“We shall see,” she demurred. Her cheeks were still rosy, but she flashed an impish smile before turning to look out the carriage window.
Oh yes indeed, my sweet. We shall see. I still have two kisses to collect and two to deliver. Nor do I intend for the prizes to be interrupted and delayed, as happened last evening.