The Road to Pemberley (7 page)

Darcy caught her by the arm and pulled Elizabeth behind the door of an empty drawing room. He brought her to him. “Elizabeth,” he whispered hoarsely. He cupped her cheek. “I do not want us to be at odds. Can we not start over?”

She turned her head and kissed his palm. “It seems we have spent our entire acquaintance misconstruing each other.” Impulsively, she went on tiptoes and kissed Darcy's lips.

“Ah, that was heaven.” He maneuvered her closer, so that Elizabeth's cheek rested on his chest. “If we could just stay as such,” he murmured.

She snuggled into his body. “Fitzwilliam, we must return to the main parlor.” Yet she made no move to leave his embrace.

“Propriety demands that we do, but I would wish to remain as we are now until the vicar pronounces the vows.”

Elizabeth chortled. “That is twenty days, sir. Could you tolerate me for so long?”

“Test me,” he groaned.

“So Miss Bingley is on her way as we speak?” Elizabeth said sarcastically as she handed Georgiana a cup of tea.

Jane Bennet gave her sister a warning look. “The lady is Mr. Bingley's youngest sister, and therefore my future sister … and, likewise, your relation also, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth smiled broadly. “You see. It is as I told you, Miss Darcy. My sister cannot speak ill of anyone.”

“And you, Miss Elizabeth?” Georgiana asked shyly.

“Unfortunately, Georgiana, despite how misplaced my opinions might be, I have never held the reputation for swallowing my thoughts. Your poor brother can attest to both the sharpness of my tongue and the firmness of my opinions.”

“I cannot imagine that anyone could remain unswayed by my brother's opinions—or his glare,” Georgiana blurted out.

Elizabeth squeezed her hand. “We shall both learn to deal with Mr. Darcy in a grown-up manner. Although I suspect your brother still sees you as such, you are no longer a child.”

Georgiana looked at both Bennet sisters. “Have I said the wrong thing? I did not mean to insinuate that Fitzwilliam is anything less than the kindest of brothers or the best of men.”

“I imagine that Lizzy would agree with you, Miss Darcy.”

“Yet we were not speaking of my opinion of Mr. Darcy's kindness or of his glare.” She noticed that Georgiana ducked her head in embarrassment. “We were speaking of Miss Bingley's arrival at Netherfield. Which brings to mind Miss Bingley's fine qualities,” Elizabeth said with amusement. “I shall enumerate them. No one could object to that.” She paused mischievously. “Oh, let me see. I am sure there is at least one item of merit. Yet I am at a loss.”

“Elizabeth!” Jane reprimanded her. “You should not speak as such before Miss Darcy.”

“Georgiana must learn to deal with my proclivity for the absurd.” Elizabeth set her cup down a bit too vigorously. “I shall not pretend, Jane, to forgive Miss Bingley for her part in separating her brother from you. You suffered horribly.” Elizabeth refused to mention Darcy's participation in Miss Bingley's plot. “If not for Mr.
Darcy's manipulations, you might still suffer. If the lady had offered you an apology, I might have forgiven her.” 

“And I have dealt with Miss Bingley,” Jane corrected her. “Miss Darcy has no need to hear of Miss Bingley's part in my distress.”

“I beg to differ. My dearest Jane, Georgiana will soon be my family. All of us in this room have experienced placing our trust in someone, only to find ourselves smarting.” Elizabeth noted Georgiana's fight to keep her composure. Darcy's sister had narrowly escaped George Wickham's perfidy. Unfortunately, Elizabeth's youngest sister had also placed her trust in the man. “I do not wish to turn Miss Darcy against Miss Bingley; yet I would wish to
warn
her to keep her eyes open. For a time, I kept mine tightly shut, and saw only what I wished to see in Mr. Darcy—all his negative traits, magnified and distorted. That is a lesson that I would spare Georgiana. You did not see what others saw of Mr. Bingley's sisters. There are many lessons for a young woman to master: lessons beyond a command of the languages or a steady hand with an embroidery needle.”

“And your choice to ignore Miss Bingley had nothing to do with Caroline's setting her sights on Mr. Darcy?” Jane teased.

“It did not.” Elizabeth shrugged. “I had not noticed the lady's preference.” A burst of laughter followed—all three females imagining Miss Bingley's obvious maneuverings.

Darcy and Elizabeth visited the Meryton shops. Elizabeth had thought it important to replace the cloak she had ruined the night of the bonfire. “I can send to London for an appropriate replacement,” Darcy had assured her.

“If we choose something too refined, the Lucases will think my family flaunts our match as superior to Charlotte's.”

Darcy could not understand such reasoning. “Why would anyone expect me to choose an item of inferior quality? I can afford a fine cloth to replace the scratchy wool of the borrowed item.”

Elizabeth rested her hand on his arm. “Maybe that is how people in town think, but not in the country. Although the Lucas women would enjoy the quality of anything you chose, they would not wear the cloak, for fear that someone would remark on their good luck at having had the foresight to make me a loan of the other. The Lucases would be constantly reminded that they could not afford such quality and neither could Mr. Collins. It is best to choose something comparable, with just a hint of finer material. That would express my gratitude without causing Lady Lucas embarrassment.”

“I see. Let us follow your plan then.” Things between them the past week had improved, and Darcy had decided their problems were a result of premarital nerves on both their parts. He held the door for Elizabeth, but as she preceded him through it, she fell into another man's waiting embrace.

“Matthew Hardesty!” she said and hugged the other man tightly. “I cannot believe you are here.”

Darcy felt jealousy clutch his heart. The stranger closed his eyes in appreciation of the woman he held. Darcy knew that moment well; he felt it every time he took Elizabeth in his arms.

She pulled back and cupped the man's face. “I worried…the whole town worried…we have included you daily in our prayers. Your father did not tell us that you were to be at home.”

“I did not inform Father of my return. I wanted to be healed before I came home. Father is too weak to tend to a wounded soldier,” Hardesty said with a large smile.

“But you are well?” Elizabeth asked.

“As well as a man with one arm might be,” the man said.

Darcy cleared his throat. “Might you introduce me to your friend, Elizabeth?”

“Oh!” Elizabeth returned quickly to Darcy's side. “Of course. Mr. Darcy, may I present Captain Matthew Hardesty. Mr. Hardesty, this is my intended, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley.”

Darcy's good manners forced him to offer Hardesty a bow. “You have recently returned to Meryton, Captain Hardesty?” Darcy asked, keeping his tone even as he observed Hardesty's longing look at Elizabeth.

“Two days ago, Mr. Darcy.” Hardesty continued to make eye contact with Elizabeth. “My father has several hundred acres five miles south of Meryton. Growing up, your future wife and I shared countless adventures. Miss Elizabeth's cousin and I were close friends. Even signed up together. Unfortunately, as Elizabeth learned many months ago, I left Edgar Linscomb on the fields at Salamanca.”

Darcy said automatically, “Yes, I was sorry to hear it.”

“Thank God
you
made it back to us, Matthew.”

Matthew!
Darcy thought it ironic that this man's Christian name came so easily to Elizabeth's lips, but she often called him—her betrothed—Mr. Darcy.

“I am blessed. I had hoped to exit with a major's title before my name, but Bony—Bonaparte—had other plans. I am thankful to have made it out alive. Many others did not.”

Elizabeth impulsively touched the man's shoulder and went on tiptoe to kiss Hardesty's cheek. “Well, all of Meryton is pleased you are among us again.”

Hardesty bowed to Darcy. “I should go. I wish you well, Mr. Darcy. You have stolen a breath of fresh air: Meryton shall grieve its loss.” With that, the man exited the shop.

Darcy bit the inside of his cheek so as not to lash out at Elizabeth for her foolish display. Instead, he directed her to a table containing yard goods and ready-made blouses.

Oblivious to how Darcy's heart raced with anger and sadness, Elizabeth fingered the material of a cloak hanging on a wooden stand. “What do you think of this one?” She stretched out a section of the cloth for his perusal.

Darcy barely looked at her. “I will bow to your taste, Elizabeth. You know better than I in such matters.”

Elizabeth gazed up at him. Although he had tried to plaster a smile on his face, he could tell by her reaction that he had failed miserably. “Fitzwilliam,” she hissed. “What is it?”

Before he could stop himself, he snarled, “At least, you finally remembered my given name.” He placed Elizabeth's hand on his arm. “Tell the proprietor to place the item on Mr. Bingley's bill. I will settle the account with Charles.”

Surprisingly, Elizabeth offered no objection. When he returned her to the borrowed gig and turned the carriage toward Longbourn, she finally spoke. “I meant no offense, Fitzwilliam. I forgot myself.”

“How often must I explain? When you are my wife, you must have a detachment. You cannot fling yourself into another man's arms.” He seethed with anger.

“What can I do, Fitzwilliam? Matthew Hardesty is a dear friend. I will not snub him just to be your wife.”

“The man holds a
tendre
for you,” Darcy charged as he halted the gig.

Elizabeth's cheeks turned a fiery red. “I will not deign to respond to such a preposterous accusation.”

“I saw his face, Elizabeth. Captain Hardesty holds you in his heart.”

Elizabeth stiffened. “I believe you should take me home, Mr. Darcy.”

He heard the tears hidden in Elizabeth's words, but Darcy ignored her distress. “As you wish, Elizabeth.” He gave the horse its freedom.