Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy: The Last Man in the World (22 page)

Elizabeth
did indeed speak to me about the matter, but I was reading an important letter
at the time."

Bingley
looked surprised, then shook his head and laughed. "And you were
completely oblivious, as usual! I should have known."

Fitzwilliam
looked down at Elizabeth, as if seeking confirmation. She did not seem to want
to look away once their eyes met, but finally Elizabeth said, "I had not
realized my husband's attention was quite so difficult to obtain." Her
warm smile mitigated any implied criticism.

"I
cannot believe you have only discovered this after all these months of
marriage," Bingley declared.

Elizabeth's
smile slipped a bit, but Darcy spoke up before she had the chance to frame a
reply. "She has had little occasion to, since Elizabeth possesses a
natural talent for not interrupting, unlike many women of our
acquaintance."

"But
now I have a good understanding of it." Her eyes locked with her husband's
again. "I intend to put the knowledge to good use by waiting until he is
deep in a book to confess any sins I have committed. Then I will have the
pleasure of a clean conscience, and he will be none the wiser."

Bingley
said, "An excellent plan. Upon my honour, when Darcy is reading, Bonaparte
and all his army could come charging through with sabres drawn, and he would
take no notice!"

Elizabeth
laughed. "I hope we shall never have occasion to put that particular
theory to the test."

"Why,
once at our club, I bet young William Dumbarton that he could not gain Darcy's
attention when ... "

"Bingley!"
Darcy interrupted.

Bingley
looked embarrassed. "Oh, very well. My apologies, Miss El ... Mrs.

Darcy.
Forgive me; I still find it difficult to think of you as Mrs. Darcy."

"That
is very understandable, Mr. Bingley. It took me a time to become accustomed to
it myself, but now I am quite comfortable with it." Then

Elizabeth
and her brother were staring at each other once again as if no one else was
present. Georgiana could not imagine why; in her experience, it was more common
for them to avoid each other's gaze.

Bingley
smiled broadly. "I do not intend to go to any great effort to accustom
myself to it, since I hope someday to claim a brother's privilege."

"Nothing
could make me happier," Elizabeth said warmly.

"Nor
I," Fitzwilliam added with great firmness.

Georgiana
sat up straight, her heart sinking. So they did want her to marry Mr. Bingley.
It was all planned, and she would have no say in the matter. She would have to
leave Pemberley and live far away, wherever it was Mr. Bingley lived. Even Elizabeth,
who would have been her hope for understanding, seemed to wish it. Georgiana
clenched her hands together, willing herself to maintain her composure.

Mr.
Bingley looked ridiculously pleased, and at that moment Georgiana hated him.
Did none of them believe she should be consulted? If only she dared speak her
mind, but she had never been able to defy her brother's wishes, and she doubted
she could begin now. But she could not bear to hear another word.

She
rose to her feet, her palms damp. "Pardon me, but there is something I
must attend to." Foolish, foolish, foolish. Could she not at least have
thought of a suitable excuse? She hurried out of the room to the consolation of
her pianoforte.

It
was only a matter of minutes before Elizabeth found her. Georgiana stopped
playing, but did not dare lift her eyes from the keyboard.

Elizabeth
stood beside the pianoforte, one hand resting on the top of it.

"Is
something troubling you, Georgiana?"

Georgiana
closed her eyes. Somehow she had to force the words out, or there was no hope.
"I do not wish to marry Mr. Bingley." Her voice squeaked on the word
'marry.'

There
was a long pause before Elizabeth spoke. "I am glad to hear that, since I
believe he is planning to make my eldest sister an offer of marriage."

Georgiana's
eyes flew open. "Your sister?"

Elizabeth
smiled, then sat beside her on the bench. "Yes, my sister. He has admired
her for some time."

Her
sister! Elizabeth must think her a fool for assuming their were to her.
Mortified, Georgiana mumbled, "It is just that once, long ago, my brother
mentioned something ... But it is no matter."

"I
expect he had different ideas once, but no longer," Elizabeth said
briskly. "You need not worry."

Georgiana
struggled to slow her rapid breathing. "I will try, but I know it is only
a matter of time until Fitzwilliam finds someone else suitable for me."

Elizabeth
took her hand between both of her own. "That is no doubt true, but I do
not believe he would force you into a marriage. He would want better than that
for you."

A
slight hitch in Elizabeth's voice made Georgiana look at her with sudden
suspicion. The first time she had met Elizabeth, she had thought her a fortune
hunter because she looked so unhappy about her engagement. But now she knew that
her brother's fortune meant little to Elizabeth, and she had never considered
why else Elizabeth would have consented to marry Fitzwilliam. Now it was clear.
Her father must have made her marry him.

No
wonder she had seemed so wretched, marrying a man she no doubt barely knew. She
felt a wave of sympathy for what her sister-in-law must have experienced at the
beginning of her engagement, before she discovered what an exemplary man
Fitzwilliam was.

Perhaps
there was hope after all. If Elizabeth had sympathy with her position, she
might well convince Fitzwilliam to let her make her own choice, if ever she
wanted to marry. She had seen how carefully her brother listened to his wife's
opinions.

The
idea that Elizabeth might try to help her was surprisingly appealing. Georgiana
did not remember her mother well, but she could recall how she trusted that her
mother would always be there to protect her. She straightened her shoulders and
said, "I hope Mr. Bingley and your sister will be very happy."

Elizabeth
tightened her grip on Georgiana's hand, then released it.

"Thank
you. I believe they will."

Georgiana
stayed in the music room for nearly half an hour after Elizabeth departed. She
practiced Bach, hoping the structured phrases of the fugues would soothe her
nerves. Finally she felt composed enough to return to the sitting room. Her
brother and Mr. Bingley were there, partaking of some refreshments, but
Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.

It
was easier to enjoy Mr. Bingley's company, now that she was no longer worried
about her future, but for the most part, the discussion centred around his days
in Cambridge, about which she could say little. In any case, she was more
comfortable listening than speaking.

It
was almost an hour before Elizabeth reappeared, bearing a letter with a closely
written envelope. She presented it to Fitzwilliam with a flourish.

"There.
You may post it yourself."

He
glanced down at the direction, then nodded in Bingley's direction.

"Thank
you."

"You
need not thank me for what I am happy to do!" Elizabeth said.

Georgiana
wondered what this business was about, and why Bingley seemed to understand it
when she did not. But at least they all seemed happy, which was a pleasant
change.

Mr.
Bingley said, "I must say that marriage seems to agree with you, Darcy.
Last winter I was beginning to wonder if we should ever see anything beyond a
grim visage from you. Mrs. Darcy, I commend you on the change you have wrought
in him!"

"Thank
you." Elizabeth spoke quietly as she sat and took up her embroidery.
"Although I doubt the credit should go to me."

Darcy
smiled slightly. "It is difficult to persuade my wife to accept a
compliment, no doubt because she is easily embarrassed. "

Could
he be speaking of the same Elizabeth she knew? Georgiana had seen Elizabeth in
many moods, but could not recall seeing her embarrassed.

Elizabeth's
reaction was even more curious, as she turned to stare at her husband, her
cheeks nearly scarlet. It seemed to take her a moment to find her voice, then
she said archly, "I was of the opinion that some gentlemen appreciate a
lady's blushes."

He
appeared amused. "I can think of little I appreciate more."

Georgiana
hoped this new tendency of Fitzwilliam's to speak in riddles would not last
long.

Elizabeth
studied her reflection in the mirror as Lucy put the finishing touches on her
hair for dinner. What did Darcy think when he looked at her? Apparently she was
still able to tempt him, but how much did he find to admire beyond her
appearance? He had gone to some effort to seek her out earlier to discuss her
family, and he had clearly enjoyed teasing earlier. And he had embraced her
under the tree, when there had been no need for it. He was not indifferent to
her, and apparently he was willing to make an attempt to improve their
marriage. That was enough for now.

She
had all the time in the world to prove her worth to him, now that he was
comfortable with his prerogatives as her husband again. She practiced a
welcoming smile.

Their
earlier misunderstanding had shaken her confidence. When Darcy first suggested
that she had not told him of her plans, she had taken it as an attempt to save
face in front of his friend by denying the truth. It was a severe blow; the man
she believed him to be would not lie. The disappointment she had felt when she
thought her faith in him misplaced had been excruciating. Thank heavens he had
an explanation, and one which made sense when she reviewed the behaviour she
had observed over the year she had known him. Was it only a year? She could no
longer imagine her life without him.

A
knock startled her from her reverie. Elizabeth watched in the mirror as Lucy
opened the door a crack to see who was there, then held it open to reveal her
husband. Her heart raced at the sight of him.

Lucy
curtsied and disappeared. Elizabeth turned in her chair with a smile, noting
that his eyes were travelling down her body. At least this time she knew what
he was thinking.

He
wandered over to stand beside her at her vanity. He picked up a small bottle of
cut glass and seemed to examine it in the light from the window.

"I
suspect Bingley will ask me tonight what you told your family in your
letter."

She
smiled at the question he was so studiously avoiding. "I told them I had
misunderstood the situation, but that you had informed me you saw no impediment
to further contact."

He
gently placed the bottle back on the table. "I hope they will be happy to
receive it."

"I
am sure they will be, just as I am happy to send it."

"I
am glad to hear it." He laid his fingers against her neck just where it
met her shoulders, and trailed them lightly along her skin. "I want you to
be happy."

Her
breath caught in her throat at his touch. "And embarrassed."

He
gave a quick, devastating smile as his fingertips caressed the sensitive skin
along the neckline of her dress. "Preferably. Though I should not have
said that earlier."

"It
did not trouble me, beyond a moment of shock. But as we know, you enjoy
shocking me." Elizabeth struggled to keep her voice steady, though she
felt as if she were melting in response to his exploring hand.

His
fingers found their way under her chin, tipping it up so she looked straight at
him. "True, but not usually among company." He leaned down until finally
their lips touched. The taste of his kiss was sweet, but nothing could warm her
more than the knowledge that he wanted to be close to her. All too soon he
straightened, leaving her yearning for more. "Damned dinner," he
said. "I suppose we must join the others."

Elizabeth
stood and linked her hands through his arm. "I suppose we must." She
looked up at him through her lashes. "Shall I expect you later,
then?"

His
eyes darkened. "Will you come to me instead? I will not turn you away this
time."

She
felt a flush of heat move through her. "If you wish."

"And
Elizabeth ... "

She
cocked her head and looked up at him archly. "Yes?"

"Do
not plan to linger too long with our guest." His intent gaze could have
kindled flames. "I have other plans for you."

Chapter 18

Darcy
and Elizabeth bade farewell to Mr. Bingley the following morning, having
extracted from him a promise to stop at Pemberley on his return journey from
Scarborough. Afterwards, Darcy announced his intention to attend to some
correspondence. Elizabeth had prepared herself for the likelihood that once
again he would not express an interest in her company, and so was able to
manage a pleasant smile as if it did not trouble her to be separated from him
after sleeping in his arms.

The
night had been a repeat of the one before, but she had been more able to enjoy
sharing herself with the man she loved, even if no words of love were spoken.
It was a shock to be reminded that he had no interest in resuming the part of
the loving bridegroom that he had played in the early days of their marriage.
It was enough to make her sadness of the past month begin to reassert itself,
and she found it difficult to maintain a cheerful appearance with Georgiana.
She was relieved when she could finally plead the necessity of making her
tenant visits.

She
felt easier when alone, or rather accompanied only by Fry, the footman, since
there was no need to converse with him. Her riding no longer occupied all her
attention, and instead she could remember how her husband had looked at her the
previous evening as if she were the only important thing in his world. Even if
it only happened when they were in their private rooms, she still valued it,
and hoped it gave promise for the future.