Chapter 11
Thursday Once Again
Elizabeth had gone to bed Wednesday evening with a feeling of contentment, and she woke Thursday with a smile on her face.
She and Mr. Darcy had faced their first trial, albeit a small one, and come out unscathed.
He had handled it with discretion and consideration, and she could not be displeased by the result.
It was still possible Lady Catherine would discover what was truly happening—that Mr. Darcy was courting Elizabeth on her own estate—but she now knew that he would stand by her.
She had not admitted it even to herself, but she had feared that Mr. Darcy’s love was confined to Rosings, where she was unencumbered by her inappropriate family and undesirable relations.
They were in a secluded society, with little company and no real-world troubles to intrude.
Would his feelings be as strong in London?
Where she stayed with her relations near Cheapside and he was surrounded by his noble family?
What about at Longbourn, where the company was less varied and her mother most voluble?
She had been floating along, enjoying flirting with an attractive man and being doted on with such seeming devotion, but it had not felt real, not truly, until she felt it threatened by Lady Catherine’s discovery.
Now… now it was all very real. His love was genuine. His pursuit in earnest. He would not give her up the moment difficulties arose. He would chase her until he caught her. His heart was hers for the taking.
She must admit, alone in her private room at the Hunsford parsonage, that she rather enjoyed being pursued by Mr. Darcy.
She liked flirting with and teasing him.
She liked the way he smiled when he saw her, and how his eyes took on a particular glow when she smiled at him.
She liked the feel of his lips on the back of her hand and the way his arm felt solid and steady when she walked alongside him.
She liked their conversations and enjoyed his mind—he was clever and not afraid to engage her on interesting topics.
He would never be one to speak to a lady of nothing other than how pretty he found her.
In fact, she could not recall him ever saying he found her pretty—perhaps once, but she knew he found her pleasing by the way he looked at her, and touched her cheek, and tugged the curl that hung beside her brow.
After an evening and morning of reflection, Elizabeth came to the rather startling realization that she liked him.
In the way a woman liked a man. She felt affection for him blooming in her heart, and knew, in the way she knew the sun would rise the next day, that she was beginning to fall in love with him.
“Did you sleep well, Eliza?” Charlotte smiled brightly as Elizabeth entered the breakfast room and began pouring her a cup of tea.
“Yes, thank you. You have made a very comfortable home here, Charlotte. I’m sure I’ve told you before, but it bears repeating.”
Charlotte beamed at her friend. “It is a joy to run my own home. I am quite content.”
Elizabeth reached over and pressed her hand. “I am glad to hear it.”
Charlotte looked around the empty room to ensure they were alone. The maid was in the kitchen, Maria was still sleeping, and Mr. Collins had gone to sit with an elderly parishioner. “I know you worried for me, but it is unnecessary, you know. I am pleased with my husband, truly.”
Elizabeth looked at her skeptically. She nearly nodded and changed the subject, but Charlotte seemed intent on saying her piece and Elizabeth sensed it was important for her friend to speak of this with her. “Truly, Charlotte? You are happy with your situation?”
“Immensely. I am not you like you, you know that. Mr. Collins will never be good company, but he is already improving with a little guidance, and he is not cruel, which cannot be said for all husbands.”
Elizabeth nodded with a grimace. “That is true.” She hesitated. “And you do not find his… company… too distasteful?” Elizabeth spoke delicately, an odd expression on her face.
Charlotte’s gaze lit up with understanding. “Surprisingly, not at all.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Oh, it was awkward at first, as I believe it usually is, but he is a very considerate man, and quite complimentary. And he takes direction very well. I am well pleased with him in that respect.”
Elizabeth’s eyes were comically wide now. “Truly?”
Charlotte glanced at her mischievously as she sipped her tea. “Oh, yes. It would be hard to find a more satisfactory husband, in that regard.”
She smiled like the cat who got the cream and Elizabeth could only stare at her, mouth open in shock, unable to speak a word. Charlotte could resist no longer and began to laugh, her shoulders shaking as Elizabeth continued to stare at her.
Mr. Collins! A wonderful lover! Of all people… She never would have believed it had not Charlotte’s self-satisfied grin and a lifetime of friendship stood as witness.
Mr. Collins!
Elizabeth shook herself and laughed lightly with her friend, though she was still more than a little stunned.
“Just you wait, Eliza. Your Mr. Darcy will surprise you as well, I imagine.”
Elizabeth had just taken a sip of tea and Charlotte was halfway through her second sentence when that tea came spewing out of Elizabeth’s mouth, followed by a choking laugh and much coughing.
“Charlotte!”
“What? I am an old married lady now. I may speak as I find.”
Elizabeth shook her head at her friend and dabbed at the tea on her wrist.
It had been arranged the evening prior that Colonel Fitzwilliam would take the ladies to see Lullingstone Castle that afternoon.
It was an ancient building that was part fortress, part house, and was famous for its garden and the view from its parapets.
The ladies had declared an interest when he spoke of it the evening before and an excursion had been planned.
The ladies of the parsonage were dressed and ready at the appointed time when they heard a carriage pull up outside the house.
When they stepped out, they were greeted by a beaming Colonel Fitzwilliam.
He leapt down from the curricle and strode over to greet them, exuding good cheer.
“Good afternoon, Colonel!” said Charlotte. “I thought we were to take the carriage?”
“Miss de Bourgh felt unwell this afternoon. With a smaller party, we may travel in style.” Mr. Darcy pulled up behind him in a light phaeton. “Ah, there is my cousin. Shall we go, ladies?”
Maria Lucas was excited to be traveling in such a vehicle, for she had only ever seen them on the busy streets of London and had never dreamed she would be in one herself.
She climbed up merrily into the center seat of the curricle, her sister on her other side, before they were joined by the colonel.
Maria flushed at sitting so close to him, and Elizabeth and Charlotte shared an amused glance at her blushes, but Fitzwilliam was all that was gentlemanly and quickly set about putting her at ease by explaining how the reins worked and even letting her hold them for a minute while he showed her how to steer.
Elizabeth smiled at him fondly. He really was the ideal older brother. If only she had had one of her own. How might her life have been different?
“What are you thinking of?”
Darcy’s low voice in her ear made her jump slightly. “Fitzwilliam, forgive me, I did not see you there.”
He smiled at her easy use of his given name and stretched his arm behind her to lead her toward the smaller phaeton.
“I was thinking that your cousin is the ideal brother figure. I wish I had had a brother like him.”
“I am glad to hear it. I believe he looks on you in a similar fashion. He is wonderful with my sister Georgiana as well.” Darcy looked to where the colonel was preparing to depart and helped Elizabeth up into the carriage as the one bearing their friends rolled away.
“Should they not wait for us?” asked Elizabeth, settling herself into the seat. Darcy smiled, a little wickedly she thought, but it must be her imagination, for Mr. Darcy was never wicked.
“I told him to go a little ahead. I wished to be alone with you.”
She flushed in pleasure as he moved around the phaeton to climb up the other side and settle in beside her.
The vehicle was small, made more for a lady than a gentleman, and they were very close together.
Feeling bold after her night of reflection, Elizabeth closed the small distance between them and looped her arm through his.
Darcy froze momentarily, afraid to move for fear of frightening her away.
“How long will it take to drive to the castle?
“Between one and two hours, depending on our speed.”
“Sounds lovely.”
She smiled brightly at him and he flicked the reins, feeling more than a little discombobulated.
They rode in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the new blooms of spring.
Darcy wondered at her sudden comfort. When he had gotten close to her before, she had always pulled back after a moment.
But here she sat, for nearly ten minutes now, her entire left side pressed to his right, and seemed to have no inclination to move.
“Have you heard from Miss Bennet?” he asked.
“I had a letter yesterday. Mr. Bingley has become a regular fixture at Gracechurch Street.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
“Are you truly?”
He glanced at her and saw she was curious, not accusatory. “I am. Bingley is very happy. His last letter was nearly illegible, which only happens when he is in particularly good spirits.”
Elizabeth laughed, a gentle tinkling sound that washed over his senses like a fresh breeze. “Do you think he will propose soon? Or shall he take his time?”
“I imagine he will be quick about it. He will be insufferable until they are wed.”
Elizabeth laughed, then sighed, a feeling of contentment coming over her. She laid her head on Mr. Darcy’s shoulder for a moment, watching the scenery go by.
“Elizabeth?”