Reunited at Rosings (Sweet Standalone Pride and Prejudice Variations #5)

Chapter 7

Darcy did not think Elizabeth could look more lovely than she did at that moment. A small smile crept onto his lips as he remembered another time when she had played the pianoforte in the same room. But things were very different now. Instead of greeting him with a challenging smile, she seemed to be waiting for him to come, perhaps even desiring his presence. Or was that only his imagination?

Though Elizabeth’s lips were parted, she said nothing. She seemed to be waiting for him to speak. And speak he must, for he had not had the chance to do so since she had come in that evening, past a good evening and how do you do?

“I cannot help but think we have been here before, Miss Bennet,” he said softly, smiling down at her as she fumbled over the keys. He did not care. Just to be near her again was his greatest joy.

She let out a short laugh, took a deep breath, and seemed to improve as he waited for her to speak. “Do you intend to frighten me by coming in all your state to hear me, Mr Darcy?” she asked, as she had that night long ago. Only this time, a gentler smile creased her lips. “But I will not be alarmed, even though your sister does play so well.”

“I am well enough acquainted with you, Miss Bennet,” he started, leaning closer, “to know that I could not alarm you even if I wished to.” He held her gaze, her lips twitching into a broader smile. Her eyes were alight with mischief, one of the things that had bewitched him from the start. Those eyes. How he wished to lose himself in them. “Your playing has improved, though. My sister is not so far ahead of you, I do not think.”

“I suppose I took your aunt’s advice and practised, as you must have done,” she said. “You have become very charming in your old age.”

“My old age?” he chuckled. “How old do you think me to be, Miss Bennet?” He straightened, smoothing down his coat.

“In years?” She stopped playing, making it seem as if she thought very hard on the subject. “Five and thirty?”

“My word, woman, you cannot be serious?” he asked, genuinely alarmed for a moment. Until she laughed aloud. His face softened, and he allowed himself a chuckle. He remembered another time and place when Caroline Bingley had told Elizabeth that he was not to be teased. Elizabeth was ignoring that advice, and he was so very glad she was. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

“Forgive me, I could not resist. May I be allowed another guess?” she asked.

“Very well, but only if I am allowed a question when you have finished with yours,” Darcy said. He was not used to teasing anyone except Georgiana and Fitzwilliam. This evening would become most interesting if he could break into that sort of relationship with Elizabeth.

“Very well. Then my last guess is eight and twenty.”

Darcy let out a sigh of relief. “That is more like it.”

She looked down at the keys and then up at the sheet music as if their exchange had made her forget her place. She started back a few bars and continued on. “What is it you wanted to ask me?”

He caught his breath, unable to speak for the glorious sight in front of him. How his heart ached for her. Standing here, he realised his feelings had not changed, except that they had only grown deeper and more tested. What could he ask her that would give her a hint about the state of his heart, and how utterly it belonged to her? “When did you think of Pemberley when you came to visit with your aunt and uncle?” he asked. It was more of a leading question to see if he might ask what was really on his mind. Could she ever see herself as mistress of such a home, working alongside him?

Elizabeth startled, then stopped the piece again. She thought for a moment. “I do not think I have been in a house that is its equal, Mr Darcy. And the countryside is enchanting.” She raised her eyes to his. “I should count myself extremely privileged to find myself there again someday.”

Darcy’s mouth and throat went dry, imagining her walking the halls, sitting in the parlour together as they enjoyed a quiet afternoon, or even strolling arm in arm through the gardens of a warm summer afternoon. “Would you?” he asked in a husky tone.

Their gazes locked, and he felt almost frozen in time as he waited for her reply.

“I would,” she whispered. She wet her lips again, the action nearly driving him to distraction. He wished he might find an excuse to pull her aside and speak privately. How he wished they were at Longbourn now, so they might meet walking over the low, rolling hills. So that he might speak with her father.

A moment later, the spell was broken as she looked back down at the pianoforte. “I fear I’ll never finish this piece.”

“Forgive me. Please,” he said, waving toward the black and white keys. He moved to the side, standing near her right shoulder. Elizabeth drew in a shaky breath. Darcy smiled to himself, glad beyond measure that their conversation had touched her as much as it had himself. Her slender fingers danced over the keys, while the firelight from the candles and hearth cast a warm yellow glow on her profile. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld.

“Your sister seems happier than when we met at Pemberley. It is good to see her and Maria together,” Elizabeth said as she continued to play. He turned and glanced in his sister’s direction, but quickly turned back to her.

“She is, yes. I daresay it will be good for her to form a friendship with Miss Lucas. She seems a pleasant, kind-hearted girl.”

“Yes, she is. She and Charlotte are two of the most wonderful people one could have the pleasure of knowing.” Elizabeth looked up at him. “Among a few others I know.”

Her eyes held such longing that he wondered if she was alluding to himself. His heart skipped a beat at the implications of such a statement. Could she be trying to tell him something?

A moment later, her song ended, and she stood up from the pianoforte amid soft applause from the rest of the assembled company. “Well, as I have redeemed myself, I shall rejoin the rest of the party.” She curtsied. “Mr Darcy.”

To hear his name on her lips was almost more than he could bear. They parted ways, and he held back, looking around the room until his eyes fell on his sister. She and Maria Lucas were indeed hitting it off nicely. Perhaps he would suggest Miss Lucas come for more visits throughout their stay in Kent.

He joined the two young ladies, who were visiting with Mr and Mrs Collins. “I should be so happy if you would come to call at the cottage, Miss Darcy,” Maria Lucas was saying. “It is not a far walk, across the green. And there is a very pretty wood behind the cottage that is simply breathtaking.”

Georgiana looked to him for help, but he did not know to what end she pleaded. Did she not feel as comfortable as she let on? “I would not wish to intrude on Mrs Collins’s privacy — especially at this delicate time,” Georgiana said, ever considerate. Darcy could not fault her for that, but surely an arrangement could be made, even if Miss Lucas wished to come to Rosings.

Darcy was about to speak up when Mr Collins took his wife’s hand and placed it against his heart. “You do not mind, do you, dear?”

“Oh, not in the slightest. Please, Miss Darcy, you are welcome anytime. We shall expect your call whenever it is convenient for you.” Mrs Collins smiled at her warmly, and Darcy was glad of it. Georgiana was so shy most of the time. It would be good for her to make some friends with whom she could feel more comfortable, especially since he was planning to bring her out within the next two years.

Elizabeth joined them, her smiles and laughter adding a great deal of liveliness to the conversation. There was, perhaps, another motive for wishing Georgiana to call on Maria Lucas — it would give her and Elizabeth more opportunities to get to know one another. His sister had already told him she liked Miss Bennet. It was important to him that they should be friends. He could watch Elizabeth speak and laugh until the end of time. She was lovelier and more open-hearted than ever. A pain stabbed his chest. Loving her, but not knowing whether to speak, was an agony of the acutest kind. If she could find it in her heart to love him someday, he would be the happiest man on the face of the earth.

All too soon, the evening came to an end. Darcy walked down to the foyer with their guests and helped hand them all into the carriage. After sending off Mr and Mrs Collins in the borrowed carriage, he helped Lady Lucas and her daughter climb into the coach. Last, he walked with Elizabeth, holding a small umbrella over her head, as a misty rain was falling. It had grown cold, and he suspected the trees would be covered in a fine layer of frost come morning. He would very much like to walk with Elizabeth on an enchanting morning such as he imagined. “May I come to call on you at the Collins’s, Miss Bennet?”

She let out a misted breath. “I should like nothing better, Mr Darcy.”

He smiled and offered her a hand up into the carriage. Her gloved hand was warm, and he could not help the jolting memory of handing her into the carriage after Jane Bennet had recovered from her illness and been well enough to return home. She had not been wearing gloves. How he wished to feel the softness of her skin again. He quickly pushed the inappropriate thought away. Patience, man. He silently cautioned himself. You must not be run away with your feelings before you learn the state of her heart .

“Good night, Mr Darcy.” She halted as if she wanted to say more. She bit her lower lip before she allowed a smile to crease her mouth. That mouth. Did she know how she drove him mad? “Do come soon?”

He was almost sure now that her feelings had changed. Even if they were not a match for his admiration and devotion, perhaps someday, she could grow to respect him, even to like him. “As you wish, Miss Bennet.” He lifted her gloved hand and kissed it before handing her to the coach. As they drove away, he could see her looking back at him, beaming at him.

He turned and walked back into the house long after the carriage had disappeared. Perhaps more than just respect for each other could exist between them. He hardly dared to hope, but could Elizabeth come to love him as he loved her?