Chapter Five #2
Carefully, Darcy wrapped her hand through his arm, and they resumed their stroll.
Neither spoke of what had passed. But everything between them had altered.
Mrs. Gardiner, who had accompanied them, was found on a bench around a bend in the path, far enough away that she had not seen or heard their interlude.
Still, she cast a knowing glance at her niece, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm once more.
The conversation turned to Georgiana again, and Elizabeth expressed a desire to see her young friend.
“I shall press her to accompany me to tea on Thursday,” Darcy promised. “Mrs. Younge usually takes her half day that afternoon.”
“That would be most agreeable,” Aunt Gardiner said congenially. “I miss my conversations with your sister. Surely, she is not spending all her time on lessons. You are on holiday—that is meant to be enjoyed.”
“My sister is reserved by nature, but her recent desire to stay at Mill House is strange. I shall insist.” He leaned close to Elizabeth and whispered in her ear. “She ought to know her future sister better, anyhow.”
Darcy returned the ladies to their house and bid them farewell, promising to call again soon.
When they were alone in the parlor, Aunt Gardiner insisted Elizabeth tell her everything. “Your countenance was glowing, my dear. You cannot convince me Mr. Darcy did not propose.”
“He did not, Aunt, though he has expressed a desire to do so. No, he is too much a gentleman and insists on meeting and speaking to my father, first.” It irked Elizabeth, but she chose to respect Mr. Darcy’s wishes. “Mama would prefer I return engaged, but courting is a start.”
“In my sister’s eyes, that is as good as a proposal.” Aunt Gardiner beamed. “I am very happy for you, Lizzy. He is a wonderful gentleman.”
“He is perfect, dear aunt. I could not be more fortunate.”
The morning had dawned clear and deceptively bright, as though the world had conspired to disguise the unwelcome nature of the news he brought. Elizabeth had not expected him so early, nor with such gravity in his expression, and from the moment he was announced, she sensed something had shifted.
He entered the drawing room with his usual composure, though there was a tension about him—a restraint more pronounced than she had seen before. Mrs. Gardiner received him kindly, though Elizabeth observed the quick, searching glance her aunt cast between them.
“I regret that my call must be of a less agreeable nature than usual,” Mr. Darcy began, after the first civilities had passed. “I have received word from Kent—one of my smaller estates has suffered a fire.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught. “A fire?”
“A barn and several adjoining outbuildings,” he clarified. “The damage is contained, but the steward requires my immediate oversight. There must be a full accounting—repairs assessed, materials ordered, tenants reassured, and the structure secured before further loss occurs.”
His tone was calm, practical—but Elizabeth knew enough now to hear what lay beneath it.
Duty. Always duty. It was one of the things she admired about him.
“And you must go,” Mrs. Gardiner said gently.
“I must,” he replied. “I leave within the hour.”
Elizabeth felt the words settle within her, heavy and immovable. “So soon?”
He turned to her then, and whatever restraint had governed him dissipated. “So soon,” he said. There was a brief silence, one that stretched just long enough to become significant.
“I do not expect to be gone long,” he assured her. “A fortnight, perhaps. I shall return before you leave for London.”
Elizabeth searched his expression. He intends it. There was no uncertainty in him—no hesitation. “You will return,” she said. How silly of me to doubt him!
“I will return,” he answered, with a firmness that left no room for doubt. “Miss Bennet, I would not willingly relinquish what has begun between us.”
Her heart stirred at the words. “And what has begun?” she asked, though her voice was lower now.
He stepped nearer. “That which I mean to pursue,” he said. “That which, with your consent—and your father’s—I mean to secure for my life.”
Elizabeth’s breath trembled. “You speak very confidently, sir.”
“I speak with certainty,” he replied. “I simply wish to reinforce that which we discussed on our walk in the park.” There was no flourish in it. No grand declaration. Only truth.
Mrs. Gardiner rose then, her tact as gentle as ever. “I believe I shall see whether breakfast has been readied,” she said, and withdrew without awaiting reply.
They were alone. For a time, neither spoke.
Elizabeth looked down at her hands, then back at him. “You must not delay on my account.”
“I would delay, if I could.”
“You would not.”
“No,” he admitted.
A faint smile touched her lips. “That is what I admire in you.”
His gaze deepened. “And what I admire in you,” he said, “is that you understand it.”
There was something in the air between them—something fuller, deeper than before. No longer merely the promise of affection, but its certainty.
Elizabeth lifted her hand, almost without thinking.
He took it.
“Two weeks,” she said.
“Two weeks. I shall not be gone a day longer.”
He hesitated then—just a little—before raising her hand to his lips.
The touch was brief, but it carried with it all that he did not say.
He released her, instead cupping her cheek with his hand.
His gaze drifted to her lips, and slowly, he lowered his until they caressed her own.
It was a chaste kiss, but nonetheless exhilarating.
Elizabeth felt her heart would burst. When he released her, she did not immediately withdraw.
“Fitzwilliam,” she said. The name stilled him, and he smiled tenderly.
“I shall expect you in precisely two weeks.” She studied his face, memorizing every angle, every feature.
“You may depend upon me.” He left soon after.
And though the room felt lonelier for his absence, Elizabeth carried with her a certainty that sustained her—he would return. He had said so, and Mr. Darcy was a man of his word.
Less than a week later, everything changed.
Mr. Gardiner was called suddenly back to London, the urgency of his affairs leaving no room for delay. Mrs. Gardiner, after brief consideration, resolved to accompany her husband.