Chapter Eleven
OnSaturday,Mr.Collinsclimbed into a gig for the first part of his journey back to Kent.
Darcy had never been so pleased to see a guest leave a place in all his life, and, as he had spent a good deal of time with Miss Bingley and his aunt Lady Catherine, this was not an inconsiderable thing. Once Mr. Collins had been waved off by Mrs. Bennet and politely seen off by the eldest three sisters and Mr. Bennet, the house was remarkably calmer in spirit. Perhaps this was in part because Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia were nowhere to be found.
Naturally, Darcy did find them. No sooner had Mr. Collins departed then they reappeared in the drawing room as if by magic, sitting at the large table and industriously reworking their bonnets.
“Mm-hmm,” Miss Mary said in their direction as she strolled past. She collected the music sheets she had been copying and then left their company. A minute later he flinched at the thumping of pianoforte keys that had undoubtedly not been formed for such abuse. Fortunately, the instrument was in another room.
He walked back into the hall, intending to help Bingley descend the stairs as he had the day before, but his friend had anticipated him and was already taking the final two steps. Though the footman stood nearby to assist, he was not required.
“I feel almost as good as new,” Bingley announced just as the rest of the family came into the hall from out of doors. “It must be the soft bed and excellent meals.”
Mrs. Bennet beamed. “It is our pleasure to offer you our hospitality, Mr. Bingley.”
Mr. Bingley glanced at Darcy and then at Miss Bennet. “Is it warm enough today to take a short stroll in the garden for some fresh air?”
“Oh, it is warmer today,” Mrs. Bennet replied rather hastily.
Miss Bennet glanced at her sister. “There is a bench, sir, should you prefer to sit.”
They were up to something.
“Splendid,” Bingley exclaimed. “I am rarely indoors for so many hours together. Miss Bennet, might I persuade you to accompany me?”
“Of course,” Miss Bennet said. “Lizzy, will you and Mr. Darcy join us as chaperones?”
A faint pinkish colour tinged Miss Elizabeth’s cheeks, and Darcy struggled not to think about the kiss.
“Mr. Darcy?” Miss Elizabeth asked. “Would you care for a walk in the garden, or would you prefer a walk about the room? Either would be quite refreshing.”
“A walk about the room?” Mrs. Bennet nearly squawked. “What foolishness is that?”
It was Bingley who laughed this time. “A very great foolishness indeed, ma’am.”
Darcy cleared his throat with a soft “Ahem.” Miss Elizabeth’s gaze returned to him. “I would prefer the garden” was all he said.
This was it. Bingley would wish to be with Miss Bennet and Darcy would at last have time to ask Miss Elizabeth whether she might see her way to . . . to what?
Mr. Hill handed Elizabeth her cloak, and she swung it out over her shoulders before fastening it. He wished he might be the one to place it around her.
He could court Miss Elizabeth. But he was done denying that he wanted to marry her. Looking back, he had been lost nearly from the moment Miss Elizabeth had petulantly handed him the end of her scarf. He had unwound her, and she had undone him.
The practical part of his mind, which was nearly all of it, screamed at him not to wait. As pleased as he was that Mr. Collins and his petty, vindictive slights were no longer a part of Miss Elizabeth’s daily life, he also knew that a man such as he would not wait for even a moment after returning to Hunsford before trundling over to Rosings to request an audience with his aunt.
All Darcy could hope was that she would not immediately set off to reprimand him, for a correction of some sort would be forthcoming—of that he had no doubt. He wished to secure Elizabeth’s hand before the maelstrom descended upon him. He frowned. Uponthem, for Lady Catherine would not spare Elizabeth.
He would ask for her hand. He could court her afterward.
Miss Elizabeth nodded at Mr. Hill, who held out his greatcoat. Darcy shrugged into it, and when he was ready, he offered her his arm.
She smiled, and his world stopped.
Let his cousins think him a fool. Let his uncle and both his aunts bemoan his refusal to wed for political advantage or personal fortune. He did not only wish to marry this woman. Heneededto marry her.
Georgiana, at least, would love her.
Elizabeth was a treasure, and if she would allow it, he would hoard her. He had never thought of himself as a dragon—that was reserved for Lady Catherine—but for Elizabeth he would be, were it required.