Chapter 3
Darcy stared after Miss Bennet as she dragged her aunt away from them; thankfully, her uncle turned to him and sheepishly accepted his invitation to dinner that evening before turning to join his wife and niece at the carriage.
Darcy wanted to leap for joy—he was to see Miss Bennet again!
He quickly went inside, and once he spotted his reflection in the looking glass, he cringed.
How awfully unkempt his appearance was! He was thankful he could have tonight to give a second—and hopefully better—impression.
He was surprised not only by her beauty, but by the revelation of just who she was: she was a Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire, the same family that Bingley met last autumn—and narrowly avoided.
Darcy couldn't fathom it, though; everything he had heard about the Bennets implied that they were hoydenish and unruly, boisterous and loud, the absolute height of impropriety.
Miss Bennet, however, was nothing like any of that—
"Do you remember the name of that Bennet lady with whom Bingley was infatuated?" he asked his valet as the man dressed him later that evening.
"The one from Miss Bingley's inappropriate letters?"
Darcy snorted; it had been rather improper of Miss Bingley to have written him not once, but twice, even if it was on an urgent matter such as her brother making a mistake in marriage.
He nodded. "Yes. Was her name Elizabeth?"
Darcy held his breath—if this was the same woman Bingley was heartbroken over, well, they would certainly find themselves in a pickle, indeed.
He had never felt so drawn to a woman before, and Darcy didn't think he could just sit idly by and let her get away, even if her family hadn't a shilling to their name nor any good connections—Darcy had always known if he met a woman who caught his attention, a woman with whom he could easily fall in love, why then, that would be the lady he'd marry, regardless of her station.
He thought of the expectation of him to marry his cousin Anne, and he shivered with a chill from the very thought of such a marriage now.
"The lady's name was Jane, I do believe."
A sigh escaped him, and then the valet said further, "But Miss Bingley did mention an Eliza Bennet who apparently tromped through the mud to visit the estate when her sister took ill there, I do believe."
Darcy made a face. "I had forgotten that detail—Eliza indeed? Well..."
He trailed off, grimacing, unable to picture it at first, but then he recalled how he found Miss Bennet, walking the grounds so comfortably, so easily, that she didn't even seem to pay attention to where she was going, so much that they collided with one another.
Darcy's former grimace turned into a small smile.
Maybe he could picture her walking through the mud—especially to go nurse her sister, who was ill.
Darcy smiled more to think on that aspect; how he would want a sister to show Georgiana such care and attention as that.
He went down for dinner, suddenly nervous and anxious about seeing Miss Bennet again; how would she receive him?
Should he mention that the Bingley party is arriving tomorrow?
He wanted to avoid any discomfort in the chance Miss Bennet was angry with him for leaving her family in the lurch, but he also wanted to introduce her to Georgiana, too.
He had a strong desire to see how well Miss Bennet and his sister might get on.
The Bingley sisters always made Georgiana uncomfortable; he wondered how Miss Bennet might make her feel.
He went to the carriage immediately as it arrived, ready to open the doors and hand out Miss Bennet himself—he was being the utmost gentleman he could be. He wanted to make a good impression; nay, he needed to make a good impression.
The Gardiners came out first, with Mr. Gardiner handing out his wife, but before he could turn back to hand out his niece, Darcy stepped forward.
"Allow me," he offered with a small smile, which Mr. Gardiner happily returned, exchanging a look with his wife.
If Darcy was making his intentions obvious, well, he did not care—especially when he reached up his hand and laid eyes on Elizabeth for the first time since that afternoon.
She was beautiful—draped in an elegant blue dress, her hair mostly up with a few stray curls escaping, Darcy's heart swelled to take in just how lovely she truly was.
Her eyes were fine and bright, yet demure as she made eye contact with him for a moment before casting them down; as their gloved hands touched, even for just that moment he handed her down from the carriage, he felt a jolt of electricity shoot through his body.
His pulsed increased, his breath quickened, and he stepped back from her swiftly, bowing deeply and saying, "Welcome back to Pemberley, Miss Bennet. "
He rose his head, watching her curtsy.
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy."
Her voice was melodic to him, and as he offered her his arm, he couldn't help but think how well she looked here, on the front steps of Pemberley—
She could very well be the mistress of this place.
Enjoying the feel of her weight on his arm, the slight pressure of hers looped through his, they made their way up the steps and inside.
He released her upon their arrival to the sitting room, where they would wait for dinner to be ready.
Mr. Gardiner spoke to him of business and fishing, while Mrs. Gardiner stayed near her niece's side, speaking in polite but quiet tones with one another.
Darcy couldn't stop his eyes from straying to Elizabeth's—and it seemed Elizabeth could not keep her eyes from him, either.
Darcy's heart raced each time their eyes connected, something sensuous passing through the air between them, even if they were standing far apart and speaking with others—Darcy felt something pulse between them, some unknowable force, but one that he wanted to know, most certainly.
Tonight would be the most eventful night he could have ever had at Pemberley, and he marveled at how serendipitous this all really was—
Oh, how glad he was to have met Elizabeth, a lady who was most certainly destined to be his wife.