Chapter Twenty-Three
Elizabeth
“I cannot thank you enough for what you said tonight.” Darcy’s voice carried warmth as they walked the moonlit path back to Longbourn.
“Nor I you,” she replied. “Lydia was quite dreadful. I fear she grows more impudent by the day.”
“Your defence of my position regarding the tenants was most generous. I confess, I was not certain how your father would receive my concerns.”
Elizabeth glanced at his profile in the pale moonlight. “What did Papa say when you spoke privately?”
“He has agreed to allow the Farmingtons to remain, provided I accept personal responsibility for their account. Should they fail to meet the new payment arrangement, the debt becomes mine.”
“That is wonderful news! Elizabeth’s step grew lighter. “I believe you should continue advocating for such families. You have a passion for estate management that goes beyond mere profit, and you have been seeking meaningful occupation since giving up your steward duties.”
“I had not realised you were so observant of my restlessness.”
“You are my husband. Of course I notice when you seem at loose ends. Though I suspect hunting and fishing provide some diversion, even if they cannot occupy all your time. Although I do know how time consuming fishing is now, I cannot say the same for hunting, as I have never been. Though I wish to.”
“You wish to hunt?” he asked, sounding surprised.
“My mother never thought it proper for ladies to show interest in such pursuits, but I have always been curious. Papa used to take me along secretly when I was younger, though I never actually participated.”
“Well, it need no longer be secret,” Darcy said with growing enthusiasm.
“I shall take you appropriately equipped and we can make a proper expedition of it. Perhaps Jane and Bingley might join us, if—” he paused, his expression growing speculative.
“Speaking of Bingley, your sister appeared uncommonly radiant this evening. I suspect he may have finally made his proposal.”
Elizabeth could not suppress a smile. “You suspect correctly. Jane confided the news whilst you were closeted with Papa. Mr Bingley proposed this afternoon and plans to speak with my father tomorrow.”
“Capital! I am delighted for them both. Bingley has been quite beside himself with anxiety about the proper timing.”
They resumed walking, the shared happiness over Jane’s engagement creating a comfortable intimacy between them.
Elizabeth marvelled at how natural conversation had become with Darcy, how easily they fell into discussion of shared concerns and mutual interests, despite her overstepping that morning and his odd reaction.
She had thought him stepping back from the kiss meant he did not care for her, but now she wondered if she was mistaken.
As they approached Longbourn the sight that greeted them drove all other thoughts from Elizabeth’s mind.
A young woman sat upon the front steps, a small portmanteau beside her, her fair hair gleaming silver in the moonlight.
She appeared to be perhaps eighteen years old, tall and slender, with an air of nervous energy about her posture.
“Who on earth—” Elizabeth began, but before she could complete her question, the stranger leaped to her feet and rushed towards them.
“Fitzwilliam!” the girl cried, throwing herself into Darcy’s arms with unrestrained affection.
A sharp stab of something uncomfortably pierced her chest before the girl’s next words dispelled her concerns entirely.
“Oh, Brother, I have missed you so dreadfully!”
“Georgiana,” Darcy said. “What are you doing here? And how did you travel alone?”
“I am not entirely alone—Lady Matlock’s coachman accompanied me, though she remained in London.
” Georgiana turned bright, curious eyes to Elizabeth.
“You must be Lady Elizabeth! Oh, may I call you sister? I have always wanted a sister, and you are even more beautiful than Fitzwilliam described in his letter.”
She was swept into an enthusiastic embrace before she could form a proper response. Georgiana’s warmth and genuine delight were infectious.
“I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Georgiana,” she managed. “Though perhaps we should continue this conversation inside where you might warm yourself properly.”
“An excellent suggestion,” Darcy agreed, retrieving Georgiana’s portmanteau. “Come, we shall have tea brought to the drawing room.”
Once settled before a fire with steaming cups of tea and a plate of small cakes, Elizabeth had opportunity to study her new sister-in-law properly.
Georgiana possessed the same dark eyes as her brother, though hers sparkled with an animation quite different from Darcy’s reserve.
Her manner was open and engaging, though Elizabeth detected an underlying shyness that emerged when conversation lagged.
“You must tell me everything about your journey,” Darcy said. “I cannot believe Lady Matlock allowed you to travel without her.”
“She was most reluctant,” Georgiana admitted, “but I persuaded her that I was perfectly safe with her coachman, and she had several engagements in London that required her attention. Her coachman will return tomorrow and then she will collect me from here three days hence. If that is not a bother.”
“Not at all, Darcy said at once. “I am so pleased to see you.”
She beamed, but then, her visage took on a concerned expression. “There is another reason for my visit,” Georgiana said, her expression growing more serious. “I bring word from Mr Wickham—our Mr Wickham. His health has declined significantly of late.”
Elizabeth noticed Darcy’s posture stiffen, his teacup suspended halfway to his lips.
“His heart grows weaker by the day, and he has lost sight in one eye entirely. The physician visits twice weekly now.” Georgiana’s voice carried genuine distress. “He speaks constantly of his desire to see you again, and to meet Elizabeth.”
“I had hoped his letter indicated improvement in his spirits, if not his health,” Darcy said.
“He maintains cheerful correspondence because he does not wish to worry you,” Georgiana replied gently. “But Lady Matlock has offered to conduct you both to Matlock with us if you wish to.”
“Of course we shall come,” Darcy said immediately, then turned to Elizabeth with sudden uncertainty. “That is, if you are willing to undertake such a journey.”
Elizabeth met his gaze, seeing the vulnerability there, the fear that she might refuse this deeply important request. The realisation that her answer mattered so much to him sent warmth spreading through her chest.
“Naturally I am willing,” she said. “Mr Wickham is your family, and therefore he is mine as well.”
The relief and gratitude in Darcy’s expression made her breath catch. As Georgiana clapped her hands in delight and began planning their departure, Elizabeth felt the ground shift subtly beneath her feet.
She was no longer simply enduring this marriage or making the best of difficult circumstances. Somewhere along the way, without conscious decision, she had begun to think of herself as truly belonging to this small family—and they to her.
The thought should have frightened her. Instead, it filled her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire crackling in the grate.