Chapter 5
Darcy peered out the window of the cottage at the new snow that had fallen overnight. Only an inch or two, but disappointment fell on him like a weight. It was Boxing Day, and he had lived in waiting to see her again. But it would not be today, after all, and might not even be tomorrow.
Georgiana stepped up beside him. “Will it keep Miss Bennet from calling today? She said she would.”
“Most likely,” he acknowledged, the words bitter in his mouth.
The animation fled from Georgiana’s face. “I was looking forward to seeing her,” she said, in a ghost of the voice she had used a moment earlier.
He glanced at her, seeing the telltale signs of her decline. It had been a little better since she met Elizabeth, but it only took a small disappointment to set her back.
What would Elizabeth say if she were here?
He tried to imagine it. “I think she is looking out her bedroom window at Longbourn, making plans for when she will be able to see you again. She truly enjoys your company. And then she will see the sun sparkling on the snow, and enjoy the reminder of beauty even in the cold. She might even go out and make a snowball, just for the enjoyment of it.”
The idea of Elizabeth playing in snow made him feel better, at least. She would love the deeper snows at Pemberley, where he would wrap her in blankets and take her out in the old sleigh. If only it could be!
Georgiana sighed wistfully. “You are right. She would see the beauty in it.”
If only he could see her, with her eyes that sparkled more brightly than the snow in sunshine.
The knock came unexpectedly. As if Darcy had not been hoping against hope for it. As if he had not been close to the point of damning secrecy and marching over to Longbourn to see Elizabeth, snow or no snow. If only he had some way of explaining his presence there!
Let it be her. Let it be her. The refrain repeated in his head as he rose to his feet.
Georgiana was faster, though, or less concerned for her dignity.
She raced to the door and threw it open.
Apparently she did not care about hiding their presence here anymore, either, if it meant seeing Elizabeth one moment sooner.
And there she was, her cheeks flushed and rosy under the hood of the heavy red wool cloak. Snowflakes dotted it, caking at the hem. Another woman would have seemed tired and wan after such a walk, but Elizabeth was deliciously alive and vibrant, as if it had given her energy instead of using it up.
Georgiana cried, “Oh, I am so happy to see you! I did not think you would be able to come today.”
“What is a little fresh snow? As your brother can tell you, I once walked to Netherfield after the rain, which was much more troublesome. And I cannot tell you how filthy I was when I arrived – my petticoats were six inches deep in mud!” She gave him an impudent smile, as if daring her to contradict him.
“All I recall is that your eyes were brightened by the exercise,” he said. “I hope you took care on your way here. I would not want you to slip and fall.”
Now she was definitely laughing at him. “I did, but only once.” She turned to display her back, which was indeed covered with snow. “It was rather exciting, as I slid down a small slope. But I am quite unharmed.”
Darcy could not take his eyes off her animated features. “I am glad of that. May I take your cloak? I fear the snow has kept our maid away, but I will endeavor to do my best as a substitute.”
Elizabeth undid the clasp at her neck. “I thank you.”
He stepped behind her, and then carefully reached around her.
His heart raced at how close this was to an embrace, and he yearned to make it a true one.
Especially after her gloved hand brushed against his fingers as he reached the clasp, sending a surge of desire through him.
He lifted the cloak carefully, as if it were the greatest treasure, and only reluctantly relinquished it to the hook by the door.
Fortunate garment, to be able to wrap itself around her light and pleasing body, to feel the warmth of her!
Elizabeth favored him with a smile that was greater thanks than any words could be. Especially when he could still feel her touch burning on his hand.
He forced himself to recall where they were and that Georgiana stood only a few feet away.
Somehow he managed to say, “Pray come in and sit by the fire to warm yourself. I will ask Cook to make tea.” It would give him a much-needed moment to recover his composure.
And his sanity. Why was it that he could not make her his wife, to have the right to touch her?
When he returned to the drawing room, Elizabeth was holding out her hands to the fire and saying to Georgiana, “Besides, I could not miss our appointment today, for as it turns out, I am leaving for London tomorrow.”
Suddenly he felt as cold as if he had been the one who walked through the snow. So this might be the last time he would see her. Unless Bingley…No, he would not get ahead of himself. He would enjoy this brief time of pleasure in her company. The memory of it might have to last a lifetime.
“Oh.” Georgiana’s face fell, and she was silent for a moment. “I will be sorry to lose your company.”
Elizabeth reached out and took her hand. “It is the only bad part of this unexpected trip, that I will not see you again while you are here. Perhaps someday we can meet again.”
This was his moment. He cleared his throat. “That may happen sooner than you think. Bingley is opening up Netherfield again and plans to come here in the New Year. So there may be an opportunity to continue your acquaintance with less secrecy.”
Elizabeth turned to stare at him, her eyes wide. “Mr. Bingley is returning?”
“I received a note from him yesterday.”
She hesitated, likely counting days in her head. “You wrote to him first,” she said, almost as if it were a question.
He inclined his head. “I did.” There was no point in denying it, especially if she had peeked at his letter.
“So he had not lost interest in—” She stopped abruptly and glanced at Georgiana, who knew nothing of Bingley and Miss Bennet. “In Netherfield,” she finished. A smile bloomed on her face.
“Apparently not,” he agreed, drinking in her pleasure at the news.
“That will be good for the neighborhood,” she said, clearly speaking of one particular person. “And I shall miss his arrival! But not by much; I will return in late January.”
Georgiana was eyeing them with puzzlement. She must have sensed there was more to their conversation than met the eye. He had best change the subject, if he did not want to answer uncomfortable questions later.
“Is there an occasion for your sudden journey, Miss Bennet? I hope it is not unwelcome news.”
“Nothing serious. My aunt received word that one of her children is ill, so she and my uncle are going home early. They asked me to join them. Well, actually they asked my sister Jane first, but she has a cold herself and does not want to travel yet, so I will go in her place.” She said it almost apologetically.
“I almost said no, so as not to miss the festivities here, but in truth it will be a relief to be away. My mother has been in a terrible temper with me this last month, and I am rather tired of it.”
“Oh, no!” Georgiana said, looking horrified. “I am sorry she is being unkind to you.”
Elizabeth seemed to shake off the serious moment and laughed. “It is my own fault, or so she would say. My poor conduct is a great disappointment to her.” But it was clear she found that assessment more amusing than troublesome.
“I cannot believe that,” Darcy said, just in case she was more distressed than she was letting them see.
“Oh, it is true!” Now she was definitely teasing.
“My terrible behavior is hardly a secret, since she has complained about it to everyone in town, so I might as well tell you what a poor excuse for a daughter I am. I refused a proposal of marriage she wished me to accept, for the sole reason that the man was a fool I could not respect. He will inherit our house after my father dies, though, and that was enough to persuade my mother,” she said lightly. “Myself, I have no regrets.”
He knew immediately who she meant, and it filled him with fury to think that the man dared raise his eyes to Elizabeth. “My aunt’s rector, I assume. You would be wasted on him.” The words came out before he realized how improper they were.
She smiled at his discomfort, but kindly, as if understanding him. “From his descriptions of your aunt, I cannot imagine she would be pleased to discover he had married an impertinent miss with no sense of decorum.”
“I would hardly describe you that way, Miss Elizabeth,” he said. “Still, I do not imagine you would enjoy Lady Catherine’s acquaintance greatly.”
Her eyes danced. “You would not describe me as impertinent?”
How neatly she had trapped him with the sharp sword of her wit! And how he loved fencing like this with her. “Upon occasion, perhaps” he allowed. “It does not necessarily follow that is always unwelcome.”
Georgiana said, “I think you are absolutely wonderful, and I am glad you did not marry that man, for otherwise I would never have met you.”
If only Darcy could allow himself to say such things to her! If only he did not have to marry a woman with better connections! But he could not permit himself even to dream of that.
Or that someday he was going to have to face the idea that another man would marry his Elizabeth.
Darcy hated it when Georgiana cried. He was supposed to protect her from anything that would hurt her. He had failed with Wickham, and now again. No matter how brief her acquaintance with Elizabeth was, she was the first person Georgiana had shown any interest in since Ramsgate.
But in this case, he felt as bereft as Georgiana.
“I wish I could at least write to her,” his sister sobbed.
“It would be hard to explain, since as far as the rest of the world knows, you have never met her.” If people discovered they had been at Netherfield secretly, they would start asking why, and that would draw unwanted attention to Georgiana.
“I know, but I still wish it.”
There must be something he could do to help. “Bingley will be living here again soon. When you feel able to be in company again, we could pay him a visit, and then you can be formally introduced to Elizabeth. After that, you can write as much as you want.”
And he could see Elizabeth again. A brief taste of happiness, and then even more memories to break his heart over. He would do it, though. It was impossible to resist.
Georgiana dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “Could we?” The relief in her voice made him feel even more guilty, as if somehow he was the one depriving her of her friend.
“When you are ready.” Not that there had been any sign of that so far. His sister hated even having the servants see her.
She took a deep breath. “I could start practicing. Maybe paying a call or two, to people whom I know are at least kind.”
His sister would never have agreed to such a scheme a week ago, and now she was suggesting it herself. All thanks to Elizabeth and her indomitable spirit. “We can do that,” he said, careful not to push her.
She sat silently for a few minutes, and he prayed that she was not going to think better of the plan. Then she said, “I have an idea.”