Page 59 of Mr. Darcy's Complex Courtship

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, I have been away for too long as it is.”

“Then I shall make the arrangements.” She took my hand and squeezed it. “Dinner is in an hour.”

“May I dine in my room tonight?”

“Yes, of course.” She raised her palm to my cheek. “Send for me if you want to talk, no matter the time.”

“I shall, thank you.”

With a nod, my aunt left me.

Later that evening, I composed a letter to Jane. I gave her a concise account of what had transpired between Mr. Darcy and me and informed her that I should return to Longbourn on the morrow.

Someone knocked upon the door, and I set down my pen. “Yes?”

“Lizzy, it is me.” My sister’s voice had a subdued sound.

“Come in, Lydia.” I stood from the escritoire.

She entered the chamber at a sedate pace. “Aunt Gardiner appeared to be out of sorts this evening, but she did not confide in me, nor would she tell me why you did not dine with us.”Her gaze bored into me. “Your eyes are swollen. Have you been crying?”

“Yes, a little. I…um…suffered from abdominal pains earlier. But I feel much better now.”

“I am glad you are recovered.” She sat upon my bed. “Aunt Gardiner said you are returning to Longbourn tomorrow. Why is that?”

“I suppose I am homesick.”

“Are you still angry with me for believing that rumour in the newspaper?”

“No, not at all.”

She propelled from the bed and hugged me. “It will not be the same here without you.”

“Thank you, Lydia.” After a moment, I drew out of her arms. “Please mind Aunt Gardiner and Mrs. Perry.”

“Yes, I promise I shall.”

Saturday, 27 June

Longbourn

Elizabeth

I stood before my bedroom window, taking in the view I used to cherish. But neither the familiar flora in the garden nor the warm welcome from my family could ease my suffering. Although I missed Jane, not even she could help me now; she had a duty to Charles before anyone else, and the pair of them represented the marital contentment I could never have.

The Lizzy who had slept here earlier this month no longer existed. I had transformed from a self-assured, merry person to a pathetic figure, a living ghost drowning in the misery of unrequited love. I no longer belonged here, or London, or anywhere else. What would become of me?

Soft knocks upon the door prompted me to turn and school my countenance. “Come in.”

Mrs. Hill popped her head into the chamber. “Miss Lizzy, the master wants to see you in the study.”

“Thank you.” Papa, at least, would be pleased to hear my tidings, for he had been proved correct.

In the study, I greeted my father and took my usual seat.

Papa removed his spectacles and inspected me. “My dear, your customary vivacity is absent. Am I correct in my assumption that Mr. Darcy is to blame?”

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