Chapter Six #2
Elizabeth took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reclining against the squabs and allowing her mind to wander back to Netherfield.
The ball would be breaking up now, and her family standing in the front hall awaiting their carriage.
She imagined Mr. Bingley arranging for it to be brought around last, stealing a few extra moments with Jane, and the picture made her smile.
She wanted to draw them; it could be a wedding gift.
“Well done, Elizabeth,” Darcy praised her, as the coach picked up speed. “You have kept us all calmer than I would have thought possible.”
“But I have no need to be concerned,” she replied impertinently, though she had been worried, terribly worried, to own the truth.
She feared for herself, but even more for the men protecting her.
“I have all of you to do that for me.” Perhaps that was said too airily, she thought.
I should not like him to think me unaware of the danger.
She placed a hand over his. “It was the only thing I had to offer.”
He raised her hand to kiss it. “It worked.” Elizabeth felt her own muscles begin to relax.
He caught her gaze and held it. Too long, evidently, for Francis cleared his throat, and she saw him scowling at Darcy.
Irritation flared up inside her, and she snapped at her cousin.
“Leave it, Francis,” she said firmly. “This is no ordinary night and we are not at a society gathering.”
Francis sat back, glowering long after Mr. Darcy had released her hand.
It was in this state, Francis in a temper, Mr. Darcy studiously ignoring him, and her arm once again around Delilah, that they crossed over the city limits and into London.
For all the difficulty of the journey, they arrived not long past the time they had been expected, though with their nerves more than a little frayed.
They filed into the entryway of the expansive home, every one of them exhausted.
Though Richard was with them, the other outriders had accompanied the coachmen to the stables a few blocks away. Delilah hung back.
Unsurprisingly, the Duke of Bedford was awaiting them.
He entered the front hall shortly after they did, smiling at Elizabeth and holding his arms out wide in the same manner as his son.
Darcy noted that the two men resembled one another in additional ways—both had the same coloring, were roughly the same height, and while Tavistock still had most of his hair, it was already thinning. His father was entirely bald.
Elizabeth embraced the duke, holding on a little longer and a little tighter than he must have expected.
Darcy rubbed his eyes wearily but did not miss His Grace raising his eyebrows as he looked at his son, and the frown signaling that what he saw there, he did not like.
Richard had dismounted and came to join them, his left leg dragging just a little.
“Thank you for sending for me, John,” Elizabeth said gratefully. “May I introduce Mr. Darcy and Mr. Fitzwilliam to you?” Darcy was pleased with the smile she gave him. “Mr. Darcy is my betrothed.”
His Grace gave Darcy a once-over. “Indeed.”
Elizabeth shook her head at His Grace. “None of that, sir. You gave your approval.”
He grunted. “Under great pressure from your aunt and without a proper interview.”
Darcy thought Elizabeth would chide His Grace for being ruled by an elderly woman, but she did not.
“Nonetheless,” was her only response. Darcy could not see her face, but he thought he knew the look—pert, laughing, knowing. There was nothing the great man could do in the face of his young cousin’s tease.
“May I see Aunt Olivia now?” Elizabeth asked. “I should like to go to her directly.”
“She is sleeping, Lizzy,” His Grace told her. “Why do you not refresh yourself first?”
“I will be very quiet, John,” Elizabeth said. “But I cannot wait. I promise not to remain should she still be asleep.”
The older man nodded and took her hands. “It is good to see you, Lizzy. We have missed you, my dear.”
“It is good to be back, Your Grace,” she replied playfully, then sobered. “I am only sorry it is for such a reason. Shall I see you at breakfast?”
He nodded. “Certainly, my dear.”
Elizabeth approached Darcy and held out her hand. He bowed over it but did not attempt another kiss. She appraised him with those dark eyes and he offered a soft smile.
“You should sleep today, Fitzwilliam,” she said, and his heart flipped in his chest. It was the first time she had used his Christian name. “Will you come see me tomorrow?”
He nodded.
Elizabeth turned to face Tavistock and the former Captain Fitzwilliam. “Gentlemen,” she said, “I thank you for your excellent care. I will go to my aunt now.”
They all waved her off pleasantly, and she gave Darcy another very particular smile before she walked out of sight down a hallway, trailed by Delilah and flanked by two other maids. He could hear her speaking to them but not what she was saying.
“Francis, gentlemen,” His Grace said grimly, “let us all repair to the study. I should like to know what has happened.”
Elizabeth arranged for the gentlemen to be brought tea and coffee as well as some food.
She knew that, like herself, Mr. Darcy had not eaten supper and was likely famished.
She had noticed Mr. Fitzwilliam favoring his leg and gave orders about that as well.
Her Grace was not in residence so could not be hostess; Aunt Olivia had mentioned in her letters that she had departed some weeks ago for Woburn Abbey.
It was left to Elizabeth, then, to make the arrangements.
“Alice,” she asked one of the maids who was typically assigned to her when she resided in the Bedford home, “would you send word to Parker? He should offer his services to Mr. Darcy and Mr. Fitzwilliam as well, once they are finished with His Grace. They traveled through the night to deliver me to my aunt; I wish for them to feel presentable before they depart.” It had occurred to her that Mr. Darcy and Mr. Fitzwilliam might need to repair their appearances before arriving at Darcy House unkempt and unshaven.
She had no desire to begin any rumors or ignite any fears among Mr. Darcy’s staff, but she knew both men were stubborn.
Well, Parker would offer, and she would leave it to the men to sort it out between them.
When they finally reached her aunt’s chambers at the back of the house, she did not pause to knock.
Instead, she carefully opened the door and peered inside.
Aunt Olivia was propped up against a mound of pillows, her eyes closed, thin hands clasped and resting on her stomach.
In her sleep, her right thumb stroked her wedding band, now so large on her finger that it twisted in circles.
Her face was thin, almost gaunt, her skin waxy and more heavily lined than it had been when they said goodbye.
One gray plait fell over her shoulder. Aunt Olivia would not like to be seen this way, Elizabeth knew, but she entered the room in any case.
Her aunt had been insistent that Elizabeth be removed from Longbourn and would want to know that she had arrived.
She motioned for the maid to remain seated when she saw her aunt’s eyes flicker open and stepped to the side of the bed to take one fragile hand in her own.
“My girl,” Aunt Olivia mumbled, still half-asleep. “Are you really here?”
“Of course I am,” Elizabeth chided softly. “You called, and I came.”
Her aunt smiled brightly then, and Elizabeth felt her spirits lift. Aunt Olivia’s smile was unaltered.
“If only that were true,” Aunt Olivia replied archly. “I seem to recall many afternoons when you could not be persuaded to come in to dinner.” She reached for the water on her nightstand and the maid handed it to her.
Elizabeth laughed softly. “You have worn me down, Aunt,” she teased. “I am more compliant now.”
Her aunt shook her head, her eyes sparkling, and handed the water back to the maid. She pushed herself up into a sitting position before anyone could assist her.
“Did Francis tell you why I wanted you here?”
“I insisted on reading the note,” Elizabeth replied.
Aunt Olivia’s lips twitched upwards. “Good, good. The men should know not to keep you in the dark. I would not have had it either.”
“Aunt,” Elizabeth asked seriously, “do you know who might have written it?”
Aunt Olivia sighed. “I have been thinking about that, Lizzy, and I cannot fathom it. Phillip was no saint, but he was fair in all his dealings. He had disagreements over business with several men over the years, but nothing that would result in such a violent message. Truly, it might be anyone.” She raised a hand to her forehead.
“You should rest, Aunt Olivia,” Elizabeth said firmly. “I only wished to present myself for your inspection, and now I shall refresh myself and take something to eat. We missed supper last night, and I am very hungry.”
“Oh, what a shame,” Olivia murmured, settling back into her pillows. “You were so looking forward to Mrs. Thistlewaite’s white soup.”
“I was greatly anticipating everything Mrs. Thistlewaite sent to the table, in fact,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “Alas, I shall have to return another time.” She raised an eyebrow. “However, this will be made easier by the fact that Jane is now engaged to Mr. Bingley.”
“That is wonderful news.” Her aunt met her gaze, and Elizabeth had a strange sense of seeing her own face looking back at her. “What of your Mr. Darcy?” Aunt Olivia asked.
“Fitzwilliam? Oh, he is very much my Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied cheerfully.
“Oh,” her aunt breathed. “Oh, my dear, that is the best of news. He was a dear boy and has grown up well. When did he propose?”
“Last night, after we danced.” While we danced.
“And then we pulled you away?” Her aunt appeared distressed.
Elizabeth patted her aunt’s hand. “He attended me in the carriage with Francis and Delilah.”