“Very good, sir.” Walker hurried away.
“You are feeling every bit the master of Pemberley,” Fitzwilliam teased.
“A wise man uses the resources he has available.” Darcy said in a low voice. “I do not like that we are leaving when this is still unresolved.”
“Nor do I,” Fitzwilliam admitted with a sigh. “Still, they are all well protected, and we must learn what it is your other great-uncle wants with you. Besides having you meekly hand over your inheritance, that is.”
“He has the wrong man for that,” Darcy muttered.
“I know,” his cousin replied with a grin. “The more fool him.” He slapped Darcy on the back. “Come. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return.”
They were nearing the stables when Darcy saw her. Fitzwilliam laughed into his fist but tipped his hat and continued to see about the horses.
She was bundled up against the early morning cold in a deep blue cloak with its hood raised. When she tipped up her head to meet his eye, the hood fell back revealing her curls, which were in a charming sort of disarray. She lifted her hands to smooth them. She was not wearing gloves.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said affectionately. “Have you come to see us off?”
“I have,” she replied, halting her movements. “One of you in particular.”
“Oh,” he said, and glanced behind him. “I shall call Fitzwilliam for you, then.”
She snorted. “Your sense of the ridiculous is improving, Mr. Darcy.”
He smiled. “I have an excellent tutor.”
“I shall miss you,” she said. For the first time since he had met her, she sounded a little forlorn. He did not wish her to be unhappy, but he could not help but feel gratified that the suffering would not only be on his side.
“And I you,” he responded gruffly, and reached for her hands. “I will return as soon as I am able. May I write to you?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Papa says you may write to me through him. I warned him he may not wish to read my letters, and he nearly choked on his tea.” She gazed up at him mischievously. “I suspect he will not wish to read our letters at all now.”
“I should think not,” Darcy said with a soft chuckle.
“You are welcome. Travel safely and come back to me soon.”
“I shall do my very best, Elizabeth.” He kissed each hand and then her cheek. He wished to give her a proper kiss, but the stableboys and the groom were already at work, and Fitzwilliam was watching.
“Go on inside, love,” he murmured. “You can see us depart from the warmth of the drawing room. The fire will have been laid by now.”
“You are rather high-handed, Mr. Darcy,” she told him, but there was no bite in the words.
“Only because I am right,” he teased.
“Very well.” She squeezed his hands and then dropped them, lifting her hand in goodbye to Fitzwilliam. “Safe travels, Mr. Fitzwilliam!”
He returned the gesture and led Darcy’s horse back to him as she entered the house through the kitchens. “She is a fine woman, Darcy,” he said. “She will make you a proper wife. Will you ask her once this matter is settled in your favour?”
“Ourfavour,” Darcy reminded his cousin, who grinned at him. “And mayhap I already have.” He swung up onto his mount, leaving Fitzwilliam standing next to his own, his mouth agape.
“Are you quite serious?” Fitzwilliam asked, incredulous. He recovered enough to gain his own horse and settle in the saddle.
Darcy was already moving away, but he could hear his cousin hissing behind him. “Darcy? Darcy!”
Elizabeth watched the gentlemen depart from the drawing room window. They were speaking or perhaps even quarrelling about something, but they appeared cheerful enough.
It had been nearly four in the morning when they all retired, yet Mr. Darcy and Mr. Fitzwilliam were determined to be on their way early. They wished to see Mr. Connors about their business before the end of the day, and Elizabeth had been equally determined to see Mr. Darcy off. She had managed only a few hours of sleep, and she wondered whether the men had slept at all.
Despite her weariness, she could not rest, and when she came downstairs again to see whether breakfast had been laid out, Papa was reading a letter.