Chapter Nineteen
The days that followed were some of the happiest of Elizabeth’s life and her face began to ache from smiling so constantly.
Mr Darcy called almost every afternoon. Before doing so he had sought Mr Gardiner's permission to pay his addresses to Elizabeth whilst she remained beneath his roof, a formality which had pleased her uncle exceedingly.
"My dear sir," Mr Gardiner had replied with a smile that suggested he understood rather more than Darcy would have wished, "I believe you have been paying my niece very particular attention ever since Providence chose to strand you together upon the same road.
You merely have my permission to continue doing so respectably. "
Darcy, who had faced members of parliament and Lady Catherine de Bourgh with unruffled composure, coloured so deeply that even Mrs Gardiner had found it difficult to suppress a laugh.
Elizabeth, watching from across the drawing room, had discovered that there were few sights in the world more gratifying than Fitzwilliam Darcy thoroughly embarrassed.
Thereafter he became almost as familiar a figure in Gracechurch Street as Mr Gardiner himself.
Simmons was no longer required to announce him before admitting him, the children took to watching from the drawing-room window for the first glimpse of his curricle turning into the street and Mrs Gardiner began instructing Cook to prepare more cakes than the family alone could reasonably consume.
Not that Darcy ever came alone for very long.
Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared with such regularity that Mr Gardiner declared himself tempted to have a key cut for him.
The colonel accepted the suggestion with enthusiasm and maintained that, as he was already half-adopted by the household, it was merely a sensible economy.
"If you continue at this rate," laughed Mrs Gardiner, "we shall soon be obliged to put you to work."
"I should be delighted," Fitzwilliam replied. "Provided the duties consist chiefly of eating your excellent dinners and rescuing princesses from pirates."
Lucy, who happened to overhear the final remark, ran immediately to fetch the wooden sword that had become the indispensable instrument of every afternoon's adventures. "You cannot rescue me today," she informed him with grave authority. "Today I am the pirate."
Fitzwilliam accepted this alteration in her circumstances without the smallest hesitation. "Then I fear, Miss Lucy, that civilization itself is in the greatest danger."
Within moments he had disappeared beneath the dining table, which had somehow become a pirate ship under siege, whilst George issued contradictory commands from the captain's chair and Edward attempted, with increasing frustration, to impose military discipline upon the motley crew.
Darcy watched the proceedings from the doorway with a faint smile. "He has always been thus," he observed quietly to Elizabeth, "never able to resist playing the fool ever since he was a boy."
She glanced towards the extraordinary spectacle of a colonel in His Majesty's Army allowing himself to be captured by a six-year-old pirate.
"You are merely jealous of his popularity."
"I assure you I am nothing of the sort."
At that precise moment Lucy announced that Colonel Fitzwilliam was the bravest pirate in England and promoted him to Admiral of All Seas.
Elizabeth looked back at Darcy with unconcealed triumph.
"No?"
Darcy watched his cousin accept the honour with all the solemnity of a man receiving a field promotion from the Commander-in-Chief. "Well… Perhaps a very little."
???
The following afternoon dawned bright and fair and Mr Gardiner declared such weather far too glorious to waste indoors and proposed a picnic.
Mrs Gardiner agreed readily enough, provided they walked no farther than her increasing comfort allowed, whilst Colonel Fitzwilliam (an ever-present fixture in the Gardiner parlour, along with Darcy) announced that any expedition involving fresh air was preferable to another afternoon of being soundly defeated at pirate warfare by Lucy.
Elizabeth and Darcy fell behind the raucous group that moved through Hyde Park without the others appearing to notice.
Colonel Fitzwilliam had somehow persuaded George and Lucy that a line of chestnut trees concealed a band of French privateers, whilst Mr Gardiner listened with every appearance of interest to Edward's earnest explanation of the most effective method of defending a pirate fortress.
Mrs Gardiner walked beside them all at a comfortable pace, smiling now and then at their silliness.
Elizabeth glanced ahead and laughed softly. "I begin to suspect your cousin manufactures these adventures merely to ensure he is never obliged to converse sensibly."
"I have long suspected the same," said Darcy. "Unfortunately he possesses such charm that nobody ever calls him to account."
"He has become a great favourite."
"I fear I have been entirely eclipsed."
"Oh, I do not know." She looked at him with teasing kindness. "George considers you a very respectable dragon."
"I shall treasure the distinction."
The lightness of the exchange lingered between them for a little while before Darcy grew quieter. Elizabeth felt rather than saw the change beside her. When she turned towards him again, his expression had become more thoughtful.
"There is something I ought to tell you."
She looked up at once. "What is it?"
"I shall be obliged to leave London for two or three days."
She stopped walking so abruptly that he halted beside her. "You are leaving?"
The question escaped before she could soften it. She had not meant it to sound so anxious, but the memory of their previous separation rose quickly to her mind and anxiety fluttered in her chest.
Darcy saw it immediately and rubbed his hand comfortingly over hers which lay in the crook of his arm. "I am coming back, my heart," he said gently.
Colour rose to her cheeks. "I did not mean—"
"I know precisely what you meant."
There was not the smallest hint of reproach in his voice. If anything, he seemed touched by it.
"I would not leave you without good reason, Elizabeth."
She searched his face for a moment before asking quietly, "What reason?"
He hesitated, though only briefly.
"I believe it is time I travelled into Hertfordshire."
She looked at him in evident surprise.
"To Netherfield?"
"No." A faint smile touched his lips. "To Longbourn."
Understanding dawned slowly across her face.
"Oh."
"I have already sought your uncle's permission to wait upon you whilst you remain beneath his roof. It seems only proper that, before I presume any farther..." He paused, smiling a little at his own awkwardness. "I should request your father's leave to address you."
Elizabeth looked into his handsome face.
The prospect had always existed somewhere in the future, indistinct enough to be dreamt of without ever seeming entirely real.
Now, hearing him speak of travelling to Longbourn as though it were the most natural undertaking in the world, she felt the future suddenly drawing very near indeed.
"I ought perhaps to have asked whether you approved of the plan," Darcy said after a moment, frowning faintly. "I appear to have assumed a great deal."
At that she laughed, the sound warm enough to banish the last trace of his uncertainty. "No," she replied. "Only... I was trying to imagine Papa's face."
Darcy's composure wavered.
"I confess," he admitted, "that I am a little worried he will laugh me out of his book room."
Elizabeth drew closer against his side. "You need not be afraid," she said softly. "Papa sees through people very quickly. He will know exactly what manner of man you are."
Darcy turned to look at her. "And what manner of man is that?"
She smiled up at him with a warmth that caused his blood to heat. Her amber eyes sparkled with mirth.
"The one I mean to marry."