A great weight had been lifted from Darcy’s chest, one he had not realized existed but which must have settled in during that awful day at Hunsford. For the first time since then, Darcy was free to admit his love for Elizabeth.
Free to love Elizabeth.
He smiled. Then his smile turned into actual laughter. “I love Elizabeth Bennet,” he said to the empty study. “I love Elizabeth Bennet!” His voice grew louder.
It was such a relief to say it aloud, a relief to admit it, even if no one else heard.
He stood abruptly and shouted, “I love Elizabeth Bennet!”
He heard running feet, and the door was opened by a footman. “Mr. Darcy? I heard some shouting. What did you say?” Thank God he did not understand my words. Darcy actually laughed, and the servant regarded him oddly.
“Thank you, Prescott.” Darcy sank into his chair, unable to suppress the foolish smile on his lips. “I do not need assistance at this time.” Prescott bowed and withdrew, closing the door behind him. No doubt he believes I have been consuming excessive quantities of brandy.
Thank goodness I need not explain my behavior to the servants.
He ran both hands through his dark hair, staring down once again at the letter and sobering. Richard did not know how Elizabeth feels about me, he reminded himself. Darcy himself knew even less.
He was fairly certain she no longer disliked him and no longer feared he disliked her. But there was a large gap between the cessation of animosity and falling in love. She might never feel more than the mild affection of friendship for him. Might never love him as she had loved Richard.
Richard had always possessed easy manners in company, the ability to charm, and a friendliness that attracted everyone around him. No wonder the men in his command had been loyal to a fault and ready to follow him into battle.
Compared with his cousin, Darcy was an inarticulate hermit. No, Darcy was only superior in wealth, and that was a mere accident of birth. It also, Darcy was certain, meant absolutely nothing to Elizabeth. Darcy could never be a substitute for his cousin, and it would be the height of arrogance to attempt it.
A portion of Darcy’s elation trickled away.
His cousin’s letter might have removed most of his guilt, but being free to love Elizabeth raised a whole new host of anxieties. Ironically, when he had been on the verge of proposing to Elizabeth back at Hunsford, he had been utterly certain of being accepted and had given little thought to her feelings for him. Now that he understood her better, he was far less sanguine about being accepted and far more concerned about his chances of winning her affections. How he had suffered for his earlier arrogant presumption!
Darcy rested his chin in his palm and rubbed his jaw. Could he discern her feelings from her recent behavior? Unlike other women, she never flirted with him or tried to draw his attention. However, she listened seriously when he spoke and did not seem to shun his company. She had given him the book, but then she had given one to Georgiana as well. On the balcony, he had allowed himself to believe she hoped for his kiss, but he could not trust his judgment since his own desire had clouded his understanding.
Darcy hoped he could convince Elizabeth to at least accept his assistance, especially given the other unsettling revelation from the letter: Wickham. Darcy had assumed that Lydia’s death had thrust Wickham out of the Bennets’ lives for good. Now he recognized the naïveté of that assumption. Darcy could not blame Richard for paying Wickham to keep his distance. Darcy might have done the same.
But now that Darcy was aware of the danger, he worried about the possibilities. What if Wickham had already contacted the Bennets—or God forbid—Elizabeth? Wickham was clever; Darcy could think of many stratagems he might use to bleed money from Elizabeth or insinuate his way into her life. He shuddered when he thought of all the ways Wickham could harm Elizabeth. Her pride and desire for privacy might have prevented her from telling Darcy if she had word from Wickham.
The thought made Darcy want to call for his horse and ride directly for London. But there was no reason to think Wickham represented an immediate danger, and Darcy had only just arrived at Pemberley. He could hardly go haring off to London right away.
There was also the matter of the almost kiss. Although Richard’s letter had mostly assuaged Darcy’s guilt, he still did not know if she was disgusted or appalled by his actions.
The question of her feelings had suddenly become vitally important.
She still mourns Richard, he cautioned himself. She might not be prepared to be courted again. He could wait, but only if he had hope she would let him press his suit eventually.
For her, he could be patient.
But he would never learn these answers by hiding at Pemberley.
Yes, he must return to London. Not tomorrow, but perhaps the day following. London held all the answers.
Chapter 12
As Elizabeth’s feet trod the path along the Serpentine, she sorely missed her solitary rambles in Hertfordshire. She visited Hyde Park almost every day, but these walks did not compare to the openness of the environs surrounding Longbourn.
Mr. Darcy had been away for five days, and Elizabeth’s thoughts turned to him rather more often than she expected. Probably because he was so impossible to understand. He often avoided her company, yet seemed to enjoy her conversation. He sought her out for a dance and then pushed her away. He was happy with his sister’s come out, but he disappeared immediately after. The man was a conundrum.
Although she still resolved on offering her friendship to Mr. Darcy, he was not making it easy. Particularly when he was not in the same town.
She had not been lonely during Mr. Darcy’s absence. Richard’s friends had visited frequently, particularly Lord Kirkwood. Elizabeth had visited the Gardiners and Darcy House almost daily. She had accompanied Georgiana to another ball, as well as luncheons and afternoon visits. Although her aunt also attended these events, Georgiana felt more comfortable in Elizabeth’s presence and managed to procure invitations for her friend—no one would turn down a request from Miss Darcy.
But increasingly, Elizabeth wondered why she remained in London. When she had accompanied Richard, she had felt more at home in these ballrooms and drawing rooms as he introduced her to his acquaintances. However, she no longer felt part of that world, and it held little appeal. Only her loyalty to Georgiana prompted her to attend the events. Sometimes, she caught sharp looks or women muttering behind their fans when she entered. Many women of the ton probably believed she accompanied Georgiana because she was in search of a husband.