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  I began a thorough search of the gardens around the house. She was not in the arbor or the rose garden or on any of the various paths. At last, I spied the pale pink of her morning gown peeking out from behind a large yew. Ducking beneath the low hanging branches, I rounded the tree to see Elizabeth leaning against the trunk with her arms wrapped around her middle and her eyes closed. She looked scared and vulnerable and perfect. I reached out to her and whispered, “Elizabeth.”

  She started and opened her eyes. “Mr. Darcy! I—” She began backing away from me, ready to flee again. “I was just going back to the house, sir. I—“

  She kept backing away as I kept walking toward her. Just as she turned I took hold of her arm to stop her. “Elizabeth, please. Please don’t run away again. Please talk to me.”

  She studied her feet. “I don’t know what to say to you.”

  “Then just listen,” I began. I took her small hand into both of my own and entwined our fingers. She didn’t pull away. “I am sorry if frightened you before or made you uncomfortable. That was not my intention. I’m afraid I have trouble thinking quite clearly when you are near.” She continued to stare at the ground, and I could feel her trembling. “Elizabeth, please look at me.”

  Slowly, she looked up into my eyes. I could see uncertainty there, but something more. A new sort of awareness shone that had not been there before. “Elizabeth, since the moment that I met you at the assembly more than a month ago, I’ve come to feel for you a passionate admiration and regard. You are so bright, and your intelligence sparkles from your eyes. You are so very beautiful.” I reached up and stroked her cheek. “Elizabeth, I would be honored if you would allow me to court you. May I?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes lit up, and she nodded. I grinned at her, and she grinned back. “As soon you return to Longbourn, I shall speak to your father.” She nodded again, and we continued to grin at each other. I was elated. I knew I could not ask her to marry me yet without frightening her away. But I looked forward to courting her for a while before joining my life with hers forever. John, Bingley, and I would be brothers. Georgiana would get the best sister I could hope for her to have. And I would get to wake up to Elizabeth’s smile every morning.

  And, fall asleep with her in my arms every night. My gaze dropped from her amber flecked eyes to her smiling lips, and I pulled her closer to me. “Elizabeth, may I kiss you?” I whispered.

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy,” she whispered back.

  “My family call me Will.” I told her.

  “Yes, Will.”

  Slowly I leaned down to her and brushed her lips with my own. I had intended it to be a simple, chaste kiss, but as I had said, I couldn’t think clearly around her. My arms went around her waist and hers crept up around my neck, her fingers threading through my hair. I kissed her deeply, holding close and feeling as though I had come home.

  Chapter Six

  Miss Bennet was feeling much better that evening, and she and Elizabeth decided they should return home. Bingley insisted they stay for dinner, and John joined us as well. After dinner, we all gathered in the drawing room. Elizabeth and I had determined that we should not pay any undo attention to one another, as I had not obtained her father’s permission to court her yet. In an attempt to adhere to that resolution, we each took up a book and sat in opposite corners of the room.

  Bingley ensured that Miss Bennet was warm and comfortable by the fire and engaged her in conversation to the exclusion of the rest of the room. Miss Bingley decided that she should read as well and that the best position for this was right next to me. She chose the second volume to what I was reading but expended very little energy on it. She continually watched my progress through my book or made some inquiry about it. I cannot say that I had much attention for reading either. I turned pages at regular intervals but comprehended very little. Most of my attention was focused on the brunet on the other side of the room.

  At last, Miss Bingley gave up trying to read at all when she could not gain my attention and tossed her book aside. “How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare there is no enjoyment like reading! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”

  No one replied. After a moment’s silence, John asked, “Charles, did I hear rightly that you are considering giving a ball at Netherfield?”

  “Yes, as soon as your sister is fully recovered,” Bingley answered, smiling at Miss Bennet.

  “Charles,” Miss Bingley began, “I would advise you before you determine to give a ball to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some amongst us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”

  “If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins—but the ball is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send round my cards.”

  “I should like balls infinitely better,” Miss Bingley said, “if they were carried on in a different manner. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the day.”

  I replied, “Much more rational, Miss Bingley, but it would not be near so much like a ball.”

  “Besides,” added Elizabeth. “One must have some conversation whilst dancing, Miss Bingley. It would appear odd to be entirely silent for a half hour together.” Elizabeth caught my eye, and we both attempted to conceal our grins at the recollection of our first, and only, dance at Meryton.

  John shot me a warning look, and I returned my attention to my book. Miss Bingley soon after got up and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but I, at whom the display was undoubtedly aimed, remained studious. After a few minutes of pacing back and forth before me, she turned in desperation to Elizabeth and asked, “Miss Eliza Bennet, might I persuade you to follow my example and take a turn about the room? It is so refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”

  I looked up, as Miss Bingley intended, and saw that Elizabeth was as surprised as I. Miss Bingley really made very little sense the majority of the time. You would think that if she had to use Elizabeth, of whom she was jealous, to gain my attention she would take the hint and leave off. Sadly, that was not the case. Elizabeth again caught my eye and raised her eyebrow at me. I shrugged just barely in return.

  Miss Bingley saw that I was watching the two of them and invited me to join in their stroll. “Miss Bingley, I can imagine but two motives for your choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which I would interfere.”

  “What could he mean? Miss Eliza can you understand him at all?”

  “Not at all,” Elizabeth answered. “But depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.” I could see her trying to hide her smile.

  “Nay, we insist on knowing your meaning, sir,” Miss Bingley said.

  “Well, ladies. You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking—if the first, I should be completely in your way; and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.” I really did try, but I could not keep my gaze from roaming appreciatively over Elizabeth. When I reached her face, I saw a slight blush upon her cheeks. I then transferred my eyes to Miss Bingley, who was watching Elizabeth blush with narrowed eyes and thankfully missed my scrutiny.

  “Oh! Shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”

  Elizabeth spoke to her shoes, “Nothing so easy if you have but the inclination. Tease him—laugh at him.” She raised her eyes and met mine, saying, “Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”

  I was glad this conversation seemed to be above Miss Bingley’s understanding. She cried, “But upon my honor I do no
t. Tease calmness of temper and presence of mind! No, no—I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please by attempting to laugh without a subject.”

  Elizabeth stepped away from her, removing Miss Bingley’s hand from her arm. She grinned at me. “Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at? That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for I dearly love to laugh.”

  I knew only too well that Elizabeth had been laughing at me and arguing with me since I arrived in the area. And, I hoped she continued to do so. I saw that John was watching us with rapt attention. Bingley and Miss Bennet were still oblivious to the whole room, and the Hursts were being their usual, inattentive selves. “Miss Bingley has given me credit for more than can be. The wisest and best of men, nay the wisest and best of their actions, may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”

  “Certainly,” replied Elizabeth. “There are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies—“ she shot a glance at Miss Bingley—“do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But I suppose these are precisely what you, my dear sir, are without.”

  “Perhaps that is not possible for any one. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”

  I arched an eyebrow at her, anticipating her response, but it was John who said, with a slight edge to his voice, “Such as vanity or pride, Darcy?”

  I looked directly at him, trying to convey to him that I knew what I was doing. “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation.”

  Elizabeth turned away with a smile, and John’s gaze shifted from me to her, trying to understand. He asked, “Your examination of Darcy is over, I presume, Lizzy. Pray, what is the result?”

  Elizabeth grinned first at John, then at me. “I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise.”

  I grinned back. “No, I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but I hope they are not of understanding. My temper may be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost forever, and you have already heard tell of the Darcy Mask of Inscrutability. But, then, there is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”

  Elizabeth responded, her eyes sparkling with humor, “Your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.”

  “And yours,” I replied with a smile, “is willfully to misunderstand them.” Our eyes locked as we silently laughed at one another.

  Even John could not remain entirely indignant at my still arguing with Elizabeth after his warning. He chuckled, “Well, I must say you have pegged each other quite well. Lizzy, he’s read you like a book and you him.”

  Miss Bingley, who I am convinced had not understood above half of the conversation, ended the exchange by calling, with imperfect composure, “Do let us have a little music. Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst.”

  Her sister made not the smallest objection, and Miss Bingley began to play, calling all conversation to a halt. Elizabeth smiled at me once more and returned to her book. I watched her for a moment, until I heard John clear his throat. When I looked to him, he was glaring at me. I realized I needed to tell him what had passed between Elizabeth and myself earlier that day. I cocked my head toward the door to indicate he should follow me out.

  Once we were in the sitting room across the hallway, John demanded, “Have you gone daft, Darcy? Did you not understand what I said yesterday?”

  I held up a hand to forestall his lecture. “I understood you perfectly, John. As I promised, I thought hard about it and came to a decision. I asked Elizabeth this morning for her permission to court her, and I am ecstatic to tell you that she accepted.”

  John looked taken aback. “You are going to court Lizzy? For the purpose of marriage?”

  “Yes.”

  He ran a hand through his dark hair—the same color as Elizabeth’s. “What about your family? What about society? They will not be happy with an alliance to a country gentleman’s family with connections in trade.”

  “I realize that, John. Since our conversation yesterday, I came to understand that Elizabeth means more to me than my aunts’ and uncle’s disapprobation, and you know I have never given a jot what society at large thinks.” John nodded.

  I looked him directly in the eyes as I continued, “I’ve fallen in love with her, John. I will protect her from my family and not allow any of them to disparage her. My aunt, Lady Catherine, may be difficult to convince, but I am sure that Lord and Lady Matlock cannot help but approve of Elizabeth once they meet her. Even if they do not, I have no need of their approval to marry. I love her, and I want Elizabeth for my wife.”

  Silence hung between us for several moments. John seemed to search my face to measure my sincerity and determination. At last, he said, “Well, Darce, when we spoke yesterday, I must admit that this is not the outcome I had expected, and even if I had hoped it might eventually come to this, I thought it unlikely and certainly never thought it would come about this quickly.”

  I grinned. “You know me, John. Once I decide on something, I go for it, no hesitation, no second thoughts. In fact, the only reason I did not ask Elizabeth to marry me out right is that you had said she was not in love with me yet. Besides, she deserves a proper courtship, and I intend to give her one. I shall call on your father tomorrow.”

  John nodded and grinned back at me. “Well, you have my blessing to be sure. I cannot imagine a better husband for Lizzy, and I will be proud to call you my brother.”

  We shook hands before returning to the drawing room. When we entered, Elizabeth looked up at us, a slight frown creasing her brow. Her eyes went back and forth between John and me. John gave her a smile, and I sent her a wink. She grinned back and then glanced at the others before returning to her book.

  The three Bennet siblings left shortly afterward. I was quite sad to see Elizabeth go, but I knew she could not stay any longer now that we had entered into a courtship. I would see her again tomorrow, when I called at Longbourn to ask Mr. Bennet’s permission.

  --- --- ---

  It rained endlessly for the next three days. I disliked rain on the best of occasions, but being kept from Elizabeth whilst stuck in a house with Miss Bingley, and not being able to ask Mr. Bennet for permission to court Elizabeth was torture. I wondered if she missed me as much as I missed her. I had dreamed about our time under the yew tree every night since she left.

  At length, it stopped raining, and Bingley and I determined to go to Longbourn, speak with Mr. Bennet and his daughters, and issue an invitation to the Netherfield ball, to be held on the twenty-sixth. However, as we rode through Meryton, we came across the three Bennet girls speaking to two officers of the militia. Bingley saw them first and immediately rode over to speak with them. I followed and was on the point of dismounting to greet Elizabeth and her sisters when I noticed the man Elizabeth was speaking with.

  Anger flashed white hot in my head, and my hands gripped the reigns fiercely, causing my horse to prance nervously. There, smiling at Elizabeth as if he had not a care in the world, was George Wickham, the very reprobate I had saved Georgiana from just that summer. Elizabeth saw me, and her eyes lit up, her smile reaching from ear to ear. Wickham turned to see who had affected such a change in Elizabeth’s polite demeanor, and I found myself staring into that weasel’s eyes with unmitigated fury.

  Wickham flinched in recognition and all color drained from his face. I wanted nothing more than to leap from my mount and strangle the man with my bare hands. Not only was he inexplicably in Meryton at the same time I was, but he was also talking to Elizabeth. Of all the people in England, Wickham was the last one I wanted within one hundred yards of Elizabeth
.

  Wickham gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, and exercising every last shred of my self-control, I returned it. Every instinct screamed at me to ride away before I did something foolish, but I could not leave Elizabeth there with him. Instead, I dismounted and strode over to the group. Through a haze of rage, I heard Bingley tell Miss Bennet, “We were just on our way to Longbourn to see you all and to issue an invitation to the ball at Netherfield.”

  I did not take in what Miss Bennet answered. With extraordinary effort, I tore my hate filled eyes from Wickham and turned them to Elizabeth. She was staring at me in wonder and concern, occasionally glancing back to Wickham who had gone silent and moved to the edge of the group near the other officer. At the sight of her distress, my anger faded marginally—after all, I was not angry with her. She had no idea what Wickham was—and I was able to offer her a slight smile. Elizabeth then addressed Bingley. “Mr. Bingley, since you gentlemen were on your way to Longbourn, perhaps you might escort us on our walk home. We have just finished our business in town and were about to return there.”

  Bingley smiled in that dreamy way of his at Miss Bennet and answered, “We should be delighted to escort you home, right Darcy?”

  “Yes,” I managed.

  Elizabeth’s silly younger sister piped up flirtatiously, “What about you, Denny? Shall you escort us, too? And you Mr. Wickham, for I should love to introduce you to Mama.”

  Wickham cut off Lieutenant Denny’s reply with, “Forgive us, Miss Lydia. But our duties with the regiment call us back. Please excuse us. It was a pleasure to meet you all.”

  Miss Lydia whined about the officers not being any fun, but Lieutenant Denny and his scoundrel of a companion took their leave. The three Bennet ladies, Bingley, and I turned down the lane leading to Longbourn and began a slow walk back, with Bingley and me leading our mounts.