Darcy disentangled himself from her grasp and directed a warm look at Elizabeth. “No, that is quite unnecessary, I assure you. You find me only too willing to make the most beautiful woman in all of London my wife.”
Miss Bingley’s face contorted in obvious displeasure and, before she could think better of it, blurted out, “Well, then I wonder at your wanting to marry Elizabeth Bennet.”
“What?” The room stilled, and Darcy fixed her with a look of contempt so menacing that Miss Bingley actually recoiled. Convinced she may have finally crossed a fine line Darcy had drawn, she dared not do anything more than stare after him as he walked quickly away to join Elizabeth, Jane, and Georgiana, his body stiff. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had joined them moments earlier, stood with his brows raised while Bingley, sporting a scowl that rivaled Darcy’s, crossed the room in three strides and steered his offending sister out of sight and into another room at the end of the hall.
With a glance at her husband, Mrs. Hurst abandoned her chair to follow them but was halted by Mr. Hurst’s stern voice. “Louisa, sit! I will have none of this in my house! Now fetch me a brandy and one for Bingley’s Miss Bennet, as well. I daresay she looks as though she could use one.”
All eyes shifted to Jane, who did, indeed, look pale. “I… no, that is… please, you must not worry over me. I will be fine in a moment. Really, it is nothing.”
Elizabeth knelt in front of her. “Dearest Jane, do not distress yourself on my account. Truly, Miss Bingley said nothing that causes me any grief. Actually,” she continued with a smile, “I confess myself rather disappointed in her scant efforts tonight. I have grown quite accustomed to receiving far more disparaging remarks from her sharp tongue.” Elizabeth’s eyes gleamed as she shook her head. “No, tonight she was not up to her usual high standard at all! Perhaps she is feeling suddenly unwell, or perhaps something particular has driven her to distraction?” Elizabeth turned a mischievous smile on Darcy, who raised his brow as she, Georgiana, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Hurst erupted into laughter. It was not long until Jane joined them.
A reluctant smile broke on Darcy’s face, as well. As he watched the woman he loved more than life itself, laughing along with the others, he could not help but marvel at her selfless ability to transform an unpleasant scene he knew must have brought her some degree of pain and mortification into a diversion for the benefit of her beloved sister. He doubted he would ever be able to do such a thing—find folly in an otherwise intolerable situation, laugh when he would rather have cried, even for Georgiana’s sake. At that moment he felt an overwhelming urge to go to her, but not because of any physical desire. He wanted only to enfold Elizabeth in his arms and hold on to her, to place kisses in her hair and tell her how much he loved her, how much having her in his life, returning his love, meant to him.
They would be married in only two days’ time, and Darcy had promised her father he would not go to her before then, but, as he continued to look upon her in the middle of the Hursts’ drawing room—so beautiful, so vibrant, so strong, yet so vulnerable, one thing became undeniably certain to him—he did not relish the unhappy prospect of being unable to offer his consolation to her on that night, especially given their earlier talk in the carriage outside of the theatre.
Bingley returned to offer his sincerest apologies to a rather surprisingly jovial set of people. His sister, however, did not. Concern for Miss Bingley soon drove Louisa away, but the rest of the party spent another half hour rather pleasantly without their society before finally acknowledging the lateness of the hour.
While Darcy made his farewells to Bingley and Mr. Hurst, Colonel Fitzwilliam handed the ladies into Darcy’s carriage. Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the carriage before him, and by the time the master of Pemberley joined them, he found the only option left to him was a vacancy by Elizabeth’s side. He hesitated several seconds, and Elizabeth extended her hand to him and laced her fingers with his as she gave him a tired smile. Darcy glanced at the others in the carriage, but they all seemed to be suspiciously well occupied, either looking out of windows, examining gloves, or searching through reticules.
At last, Darcy seated himself beside Elizabeth, giving her hand a small squeeze as he raised it to his lips and then placed it upon his lap. He heard her quiet sigh, a sigh of exhaustion, emotional as well as physical, and felt her turn her face into his shoulder for a fleeting moment. It had been a difficult day for her—a difficult week, actually—and, without so much as a second thought, Darcy turned his head to bestow a kiss upon her temple as he allowed himself to whisper ever so softly, so only she would hear, “How I love you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”
Chapter 20
Elizabeth awoke early Saturday morning to find her maid, Sonia, bustling about in preparation for her mistress’s morning bath. She smiled as she threw back the counterpane and reached for her dressing gown. Despite the numerous trials of the week, this was Elizabeth’s wedding day, and she was convinced nothing could spoil it.
Sonia gave her a happy, knowing look. “Good morning to you, ma’am. Your bath will be ready shortly, and a tray will be sent up to you in an hour. Mrs. Hildebrandt said it will not do to have the master see you in all your finery before you are wed, and thought it best you break your fast in your room this morning.”
“Thank you, Sonia. Please tell Mrs. Hildebrandt I appreciate her thoughtfulness.” The young woman nodded and slipped from the room.
When Elizabeth stepped into the steaming bath, she did so with a sigh and leaned her head back against the soft towel that had been placed on the rim of the tub. A warm feeling of relaxation and contentment settled over her, and her thoughts soon drifted to Darcy. Though their courtship had been brief and riddled with difficulties, she could assuredly say it had been a most enjoyable time for her.
Not only was Darcy a passionate, caring man who was unafraid to show her his affection, he was also considerate and generous, almost to a fault. He was more than willing to do any little thing for her comfort and pleasure, and she was truly surprised by the lengths to which he was willing to go in order to secure her happiness. She smiled to herself, recalling the day before when her mother, in her effusions over the impending nuptials the following day, had managed to work all her daughters and poor Georgiana into a fit of nerves that could have rivaled her own. Just when Elizabeth had been certain she could take no more, Darcy appeared with Mrs. Hildebrandt.
“I do not mean to intrude, Mrs. Bennet, but Mrs. Hildebrandt and I find ourselves at quite a loss over certain unresolved details for the wedding breakfast tomorrow. We were wondering whether you would be so kind as to assist us, as it is truly of the utmost importance.”
He cast a meaningful glance at Elizabeth and, though his demeanor appeared to be just as serious as ever, she recognized a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth. She was certain it was discernible to no one but Georgiana and herself, and she had to turn away for a moment to hide her smile.
“Ah, but I see you are very busy at the moment. Forgive me, madam. I am certain the cook can work out some other alternative to the fish we were planning to serve. Perhaps we shall just go without? What say you, Mrs. Hildebrandt?”
The plump housekeeper then replied, in a voice that sounded suspiciously well rehearsed, “Why yes, sir, whatever you think is best. I shall tell Mrs. Richards immediately that we shall simply go without the fish.”