Chapter 20
TWENTY
Soon after Christmas, Lord Romsley spoke to Darcy about his interest in Elizabeth, which had apparently become obvious to him. Darcy did not know if the countess had yet discerned the truth or if she had been informed of it by her husband or sons.
The earl said, “I did wonder before now, but I thought the… I am not sure of the word to use for how I have seen the two of you act towards each other. I thought it might simply be because you had met before.”
When his uncle paused, Darcy felt compelled to fill the silence. He said, “It was surprising to both of us to learn of our mutual connexions.”
Lord Romsley made a noise that suggested agreement but also the knowledge that there was more to it.
“The other morning, my sons were sniggering, and I am sure I caught them saying your names. They refused to tell me what was so amusing, but it added to my suspicions. So, tell me, Nephew, what is your interest in her?”
Darcy was forced to confess that he hoped to win Elizabeth’s regard.
Upon further questioning, he admitted that he had liked her for some time but had dismissed her as an appropriate choice of wife, given the mystery of her past and connexions to trade through Mrs Bennet.
The earl laughed at him for what felt like a quarter of an hour before making him promise not to rush Elizabeth into an engagement or marriage, given how much had recently changed in her life.
“She and your aunt deserve time to get to know one another, and Elizabeth has yet to meet my brother-in-law and his family. There are moments when I look at her, and I can tell she is not overwhelmed by learning the truth about her father’s family—she has too much fortitude for that—but she is nearly so.
Let her be Elizabeth Sterling for a while longer. ”
Having no choice and wanting to do what was best for the lady he loved, Darcy agreed.
Between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, he saw her at several dinners and soirées.
Always, he observed as she took her place in his social circle seemingly with ease.
She appeared happy, which made his heart swell with pleasure.
Lady Romsley evidently remained delighted with her, which did not surprise him, knowing as he did how impossible it was not to be enchanted by Elizabeth.
But no one will be prouder than I shall be the day I can call her my wife!
He would do whatever necessary to convince her that he was worthy of her love and trust.
At an evening party on the thirty-first of December, they spoke alone for a few minutes once the friends they had been with went in search of drinks. Elizabeth let out a contented sigh as she looked about the crowded, noisy room.
“It is a wonderful party,” she said. “I have met so many people these last few weeks. I doubt I shall remember who half of them are, should we meet in the spring.”
He chuckled. “I have more faith in your abilities than you do.”
Glancing his way, she gave him a smile of thanks.
“The Festive Season is always busy, regardless of unknown relations arriving just in time to add another excuse to gather or for people to accept invitations in the hope of meeting the mystery lady.”
She laughed—which had been his purpose in speaking as he did—and gave him all her attention. “I never would have believed you capable of making a joke,” she admitted. “I am glad, and relieved, to find that I was so mistaken about you, sir.”
For a moment, he gazed at her, wondering if her words and the look she gave him held a deeper, subtle message.
Searching for a response, he said, “And I am glad to have convinced you I am a better man than you believed me to be, than I gave you reason to believe me to be.” Not wanting to dwell on the past, he immediately asked, “Has there been too much activity for you?”
“Oh, goodness, I hardly know how to answer,” she said.
After a long moment, she continued. “You know there have been luncheons and calls and so forth beyond those at which we have seen one another. Many, many calls and a seemingly endless parade of new people for me to meet. As you might remember, the society in Meryton is not large, and even during the Festive Season, I do not believe I have ever been so busy. On top of parties and such, my aunt and I have been shopping several times this past week. She claims it is necessary to prepare me for winter in the Midlands.”
“Not only is the society in town much larger than in the country, my aunt delights in showing you off. I would find it unbearable, but if you do, I assure you, your demeanour does not betray you. You charm everyone you meet, just as I saw you do in Meryton.”
She blushed and smiled softly, giving him reason to believe she was pleased by his words. “You are not overly fond of large gatherings, yet we have found ourselves at many of late, including tonight. Even though you know everyone here, you cannot take much pleasure in it.”
Darcy shrugged. “I find myself adequately diverted.”
Once again, she laughed, just as he had intended.
“But to be serious,” he said, “I am seldom comfortable when in such a crowd. It is easier if I can anticipate spending time with people whose company I truly enjoy, in whose company I always feel easier.” Their eyes met, and the colour in her cheeks deepened, telling him she understood he had been referring to her.
A moment later, he added, “Still, it is exhausting, at least to me.”
“Not only you,” she assured him. “As much as I do not mind being so busy, and this period of my life will always hold a special place in my memory, I believe by the time we leave town, I shall be in desperate need of a long rest!”
They shared a laugh, and he asked, “Will you dance the first set with me? At the Twelfth Night ball, I mean.” Could he be less eloquent?
His dearest Elizabeth did not seem to mind or notice, however. She smiled and nodded. “Thank you. I should like that. Remind me, please, what you and Georgiana intend to do after the ball? Do you leave immediately for Derbyshire?”
Until they were interrupted a few minutes later, they chatted about the winter.
Two days before the Twelfth Night ball, Bramwell finally succeeded in convincing Rebecca to accept him.
“But we shall not marry until the spring,” she told Elizabeth when the families were together for an impromptu celebration.
“What made you agree this time? And how many times has he proposed?” Elizabeth asked with a laugh.
“Oh, goodness.” Rebecca nibbled her lower lip and considered for a moment.
“At least half a dozen, I suppose. I do not recommend any lady follow my example and refuse the man she would truly like to marry as often as I did him. Who is to say he would not have given up on me?” She gave an exaggerated shudder.
“As to why I said yes now, well, it was because of you.”
“Me?”
Nodding, Rebecca explained. “I want everyone, especially him, to focus on you, so that you might spend the winter establishing the bonds of familyhood. Is that a word? But I could not let him go into the country without putting him out of his misery. More to the point, I did not want him to follow me to my father’s estate so that he could continue his pursuit when he should be with you and your relations at Hillsdale. ”
“That is generous of you. All of it, I mean to say. I am not so conceited that I expect everyone’s life to stop just because I finally discovered who my father was.”
“But it is such an extraordinary event!” Rebecca interjected, clasping Elizabeth’s hand.
“It is like something from a novel, and after being separated all your life, you must have the opportunity to forge bonds without one part of your family flying about the country, chasing after a stubborn young lady.”
Elizabeth smiled briefly and became more serious.
“Have you resolved your doubts? As much as I appreciate having Bramwell as a cousin, I also appreciate having you as a friend. I want you both to be happy with this decision. I know he is. He is practically floating above the ground and singing with glee. You should have seen the earl mocking him earlier when Bramwell was unable to follow a simple conversation. He kept day-dreaming of you instead.”
Rebecca’s hand flew to her mouth as she began to giggle.
“He is such a fool, but I do love him, and I am very happy. I am also anxious about how my life will change, I admit, but your aunt has vowed to help me make the transition to viscountess, as has Bramwell, and that reassures me. Being separated for the next weeks will not be easy, but my mother has said we may write to each other, and that will do for now. Likely, we shall go to Pemberley before returning to town in the spring. Papa likes to visit his childhood home, as do I. It is so beautiful, and I have such happy memories from when I was a child and my aunt and uncle Darcy were alive. Perhaps we shall have one or two of my brothers and sisters with us, and you can meet them. You will be there, will you not?”
“Mr Darcy has invited us.” Given the state of Elizabeth’s sentiments for the estate’s master—and how she believed he felt for her—would it be odd to go?
Likely it would be, especially because she was beginning to believe they would marry, and Pemberley would become her home.
How can I be anticipating spending my life with a man I disliked so much a month ago?
Whether it is incongruous or not, I am. At times, she thought she was living in an elaborate dream and everything from the moment Mr Bennet told her he had found his sister’s letter on was nothing more than a product of her vivid imagination.
Perhaps I am ill and a fever has caused it all.
But then, she looked across the drawing room, and her eyes met Mr Darcy’s. An increasingly familiar warmth washed over her. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.