Chapter 5 #4
“It is beautiful, is it not?” She heard the master’s soft whisper just behind her as he gazed over her shoulder, admiring the same sight.
She could feel the heat of his body close to her and his breath warming the nape of her neck.
She only nodded without turning to him; in a moment, his hand gently touched her arm.
“We should go and catch the others; I think Georgiana already directed them to the music room.”
Indeed, her relatives and Miss Darcy were in the music room where the young lady was showing them the piano her brother had just presented to her for her sixteenth birthday. It was at that moment that Mrs Reynolds entered to announce that dinner was ready.
“Miss Bennet, have you decided about your schedule tomorrow?” asked Mr Darcy in a low voice as they returned to the dining room.
“Yes, we have, sir. My uncle will come to Pemberley to join you for fishing in the morning, and then my aunt and I will come to meet Miss Darcy around noon. Afterwards, my aunt and uncle will return to Lambton as they have a few calls to pay.”
“And will you return with them?” His voice became deeper as his head slightly lowered to her.
“It depends on Miss Darcy. If she wants me to remain, I may stay until late afternoon.” She felt herself blushing and did not dare to meet his eyes.
“I am sure she will want you to stay as long as possible, as will I.” She stopped breathing; yes—he had said it, aloud and quite clearly.
Elizabeth was certain her cheeks were crimson when they entered the dining room, and she felt all eyes on her. Yet again, she cared little for the others’ opinions. Only one opinion mattered to her—his opinion—and it was clearly in her favour.
The dinner was a mostly pleasant affair until Lady Cassandra, in the middle of a casual conversation, unexpectedly addressed Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet, I was talking to Mr Bingley about Hertfordshire a few days ago, and he mentioned to me he would like to return there but was uncertain whether that would be wise of him. Is it not so, Mr Bingley?”
“Yes—we were talking of that very subject! Indeed, I have considered returning to Netherfield if…I mean, I was wondering whether I should.”
Elizabeth, incredulous, gaped at him, and then her gaze moved to Lady Cassandra, who had initiated the conversation.
“So, Miss Bennet, as you are obviously the one in possession of the most pertinent information—what would you advise Mr Bingley? Should he return, do you think?”
Elizabeth’s head was spinning as she was still afraid to hope or presume too much.
She breathed deeply, looking once more at Lady Cassandra, who was watching her with an unreadable expression on her face, and then to Mr Bingley, whose eagerness was apparent.
Well, he had asked for her opinion, so she would give it to him—straight and honest.
“Mr Bingley, I think your return to Netherfield would be welcomed by all your neighbours if your intentions are clear and you plan to remain longer than a few months. However, if you intend to return for a brief time, then perhaps it would be better for the estate to be left in the care of a gentleman who would give it the required care and attention.”
She knew she had said too much; it was not proper to give such a direct answer.
However, to her utter relief, Mr Bingley’s face lightened instantly.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet. I shall write to my steward to prepare the house for my return as soon as may be. And this time I intend to remain as long as necessary.”
“Well, well. I have always admired a determined gentleman.” Lady Cassandra laughed, and Elizabeth joined her.
Then Elizabeth lowered her head imperceptibly toward her ladyship and whispered a barely audible, “Thank you.” Her ladyship nodded slightly then changed the topic instantly, asking Elizabeth what she liked most of all the places she had seen during her tour.
The rest of the evening passed in pleasant conversation.
Miss Darcy and Elizabeth planned a ride in the carriage through the grounds, and Lady Cassandra mentioned that she might join them at some point on horseback.
Mr Bingley’s sisters would never consider such a way of amusing themselves, and nobody tried to change their opinion.
An hour later, the guests took their leave.
Mr Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth, and they walked at a slow pace a little behind the others through the impressive halls.
The sky was dark, and Pemberley’s yard was lit by numerous torches; a brisk breeze cooled the warm air of the July night and played with a lock of hair on her neck.
Elizabeth shuddered as she breathed deeply and closed her eyes to enjoy the moment.
“Miss Bennet, are you cold?”
“No, I am not cold at all, sir. I am just happy,” she answered impetuously. She felt him growing steadily tense, and he stopped. Mortified, she stopped as well, as did her breath. Her eyes remained fixed somewhere in front of them where her relatives were chatting animatedly. He was silent.
Trembling, Elizabeth felt his hand taking hers from his arm and lifting it briefly to his lips.
She was not certain whether his lips actually touched her gloved fingers or she merely dreamt it.
However, of two things she was absolutely certain: his hand remained upon hers until they reached the others, and his touch was still burning her hours later in her small room at the inn.