10. Chapter 10
Chapter ten
January 1812 Bond Street Darcy
" W hat say you to visiting Bond Street today?" Darcy asked Georgiana. His letter had been dispatched to Gracechurch Street, and now he felt restless and confined. "I could do with a new book."
"Have you read the four you purchased last week?" Georgiana smirked. Darcy's penchant for purchasing more books than he could consume in a lifetime was well known. Her tease was an ongoing one—Darcy's father had said the same thing. He had added many tomes to the collection in his London house in the past few years. Darcy could not resist a good book. He read voraciously, and his interests covered a broad spectrum.
"Of course I have not," he said, winking at her. "Perhaps they have new music. You have played the same Mozart piece a million times now, if I had to guess."
His sister stuck her tongue out. "I have not," she denied. "But I should be pleased to join you. We have not ventured out for a few days."
It had been more than a few days. Darcy thought back, wondering when he had last taken Georgiana anywhere. He had brooded since the end of November when he had returned to London from Hertfordshire. Despite attending a few events over the holiday season, he had kept largely to himself, struggling to put the dark-haired beauty from his mind. His success had been limited.
The carriage was called, and they departed. Georgiana bounced with excitement, asking if they could visit the haberdashery whilst they were out. Darcy groaned dramatically but agreed, pleased to give his sister whatever she desired.
Her behavior had not gone unpunished. Darcy had scolded her severely, pressing upon her how her actions could have ruined his life. "What if I had decided I only felt infatuated?" he demanded. "What if Elizabeth did not like me, and she was forced to marry me because of the letter you sent? You could have ruined two lives, Georgie. It was badly done."
She had wept, and with tears streaming down her cheeks, apologized. "There is no harm done now, is there?" she asked meekly. "Elizabeth does not despise you, and I have overcome most of the obstacles that stood in your way."
"In a manner of speaking," he said, still frowning. "There is still the matter of her position in society. I am expected to make a brilliant match with a diamond of the first water."
Georgiana had frowned. "If you think Elizabeth is anything but the gem that she is, then you do not deserve her." She folded her arms petulantly. "Besides, you always wanted a marriage of affection—like Mama and Papa had. And now you will have it."
"There is no guarantee I would have met and fallen in love with a lady of the ton," he concurred. "And I have had it ingrained in me—these expectations for my marriage and future life will not be so easily set aside by our relations."
"Who cares what Lady Catherine thinks?" grumbled his sister. Georgiana tossed her hair, looking so much like Lydia Bennet in that instant that he swallowed hard.
"It is not just Lady Catherine," he said. "What about Aunt and Uncle Matlock?"
"Our aunt has been pressing you and our cousins to marry for years. She will be so relieved you are settling down that she will make no argument for fear of causing you to change your mind."
Darcy was forced to see his sister's point. "When did you become a studier of character?" he asked, bemused by her logic.
Georgiana had made no reply, merely staring at him triumphantly.
The carriage arrived in front of Hatchard's, and brother and sister climbed down. Darcy offered his arm to his sister, and they entered the store. The smell of books immediately assaulted his senses, and he breathed deeply. The scent was soothing to his soul, and some of the tension he carried around his shoulders eased.
"Good day, sir!" The proprietor nodded his head in greeting.
Darcy returned it, and he and Georgiana separated. She went to the music, and he walked down the long rows of books in search of something new to read. Near the end of the shelves, he spotted a lady in the next row over. His heart jumped to his throat as he recognized her.
Elizabeth. He moved as if under some unknown power. She stood on her tiptoes, her delicate fingertips attempting to retrieve a book on the top shelf.
"Almost there," he heard her hiss under her breath. She was so focused on what she was doing that she did not see him.
He reached up and plucked the book off the shelf and offered it to her. Elizabeth turned, her smile broad, and he watched with amusement as her words of gratitude died on her lips.
"Oh," she breathed, her cheeks flushing red. "Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth dipped a shallow curtsey and then bit her lip.
"Good day, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy replied huskily. "I did not expect to meet you so soon."
She looked up and the mischievous twinkle he so admired flashed in her eyes. "Yes, you have left that matter up to me, have you not? Should I hurry away and delay our meeting longer?"
"Minx," he said quietly. "No, I prefer you here." He reached out and drew a finger down her cheek. "It has been agony," he choked out as his hand dropped.
She reached out and took his hand in one of hers, squeezing it lightly. "I concur, sir. I have not had the opportunity to respond to your letter. We departed soon after I read it." Her cheeks reddened again, and she smiled shyly.
Darcy's throat felt dry. He realized now how different that look was from what she had leveled at him at Netherfield. "You really did not like me, did you?" he said, his voice, though quiet, sounding rather strangled.
"It is all forgotten," she said soothingly. "I did not know you. Indeed, I never knew myself until your first letter. How blurred the lines between lo—affection—and hate have been."
He heard her slip. She loves me. He longed to tell her how she affected him, how her very presence made it easier to breathe. He wanted her by his side forever. But now was not the time. He needed time to arrange his words in his head. Writing had always been the easiest way to express his feelings, though he had struggled with what to say in the last letter he had sent. His proposal needed to be perfect.
The bell at the door rang, informing them of another's entrance. Elizabeth backed away, putting a proper amount of space between them. A man approached—a footman, maybe?
"Miss Lizzy, your aunt says it is time to go."
"Thank you, Jones." Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy. "Farewell, sir."
"Goodbye." Elizabeth. He named her in his head. She went to the counter and paid for her book. Darcy trailed after her, a smitten look on his face. The bell jingled again as she departed, yet he remained rooted to where he stood.
"Brother?" Georgiana's words made him jump, and he turned to look at his sister. "Did you know that lady?" she asked. "I saw you watching her."
"That is Elizabeth," he said.
Georgiana's mouth opened in an 'O.' She beamed and then sighed with regret. "And I did not even get to meet her," she grumbled.
"Soon, dearest," he said. "Soon."