Page 31 of Desired By Mr Darcy
“Fine. How far are we from the modiste? Perhaps we could wander over there and see if the ladies would like to promenade after their appointments have concluded. Their company would be far more entertaining than yours, if you insist upon being in this foul mood.”
“I believe it is located on the other side of the park.”
“Perfect! We shall have our walk, and then we can see if Miss Elizabeth can’t put a smile on your face.”
The modiste was situated on a fashionable London street, and there were several people of Darcy’s acquaintance strolling the cobbles. He greeted them all with a stiff “good afternoon”, but avoided all questioning on his life and upcoming nuptials. He was sure the scandal sheets would discover his aunt’s disapproval soon enough, or have their say on the disparity of Elizabeth’s birth with his own, but for now he wished to say nothing.
“Vultures, the lot of them,” Fitzwilliam said as they bid farewell to yet another well-meaning lady and her daughter, who had looked at the Colonel in a very deliberate fashion. “I am glad we are not in town often; I feel as though I am in a shop window with the world wondering how much I am worth. And I’m worth practically nothing, so I cannot imagine how you feel with your ten thousand a year.”
“I will not miss my bachelor days, it is true; I do not care for parties anyway, but I like them far less when I am being sized up like a prize cow.”
“I am sure Mrs Darcy will be the envy of all who meet her. She is charming, and they shall hate that!”
“I do not wish for Elizabeth to be disliked.”
“Then you ought not to have married at all, for nothing disappoints young ladies like another bachelor torn from the marriage mart!”
The modiste’s doorway came into view as the two men strolled leisurely along the bustling street. Darcy adjusted his gloves with a faint frown, though his stride remained purposeful. Fitzwilliam, ever attuned to his cousin’s mood, tilted his head with a wry smile.
“Do you suppose they are still inside?” Darcy asked, removing his pocket watch to consult the time. “Their appointment began an hour ago. Surely they could not still be choosing fabrics?”
“I have known you to spend hours at the haberdashers just to emerge with clothing that seems identical to that which you already own. Does Miss Elizabeth know she is marrying a peacock who spends hours fussing over his appearance, only to look exactly as he did before?”
Darcy ignored him.
“Besides,” Fitzwilliam continued, “there are two ladies having fittings, and I am sure our dear Georgiana will find an excuse to purchase something, too. Shall I poke my head around the door and see where they are in the proceedings?”
“I hardly think an unmarried man peering into a modiste will go down well,” Darcy warned.
Fitzwilliam laughed heartily, before happily walking towards the door of the modiste and slipping inside. Darcy watched, mortified, as he waited for his cousin to emerge. He waited. And waited. Finally, after around five minutes, Fitzwilliam returned, looking very pleased with himself.
“They will be finished shortly. Their measurements are complete, you needn’t worry about what I saw in there! They are pouring over fashion plates. They were surprised to see me, but Miss Elizabeth smiled most prettily when she realised you had accompanied me.”
"She smiled at the mention of me? You are sure?”
"Yes, a very warm smile," Fitzwilliam said, his tone growing more serious. "I dare say whatever you felt this morning may not be entirely as you imagine it. You are overthinking again. I know you believe yourself inscrutable, but your moods are written plainly on your face. If Miss Elizabeth noticed your unease, shemay have interpreted it as something to do with her. Perhaps that is why she was subdued at breakfast."
The thought struck Darcy like a blow. Had his own discomfort been the source of Elizabeth's behaviour? The possibility made his chest tighten.
"How do I rectify this?" he asked, his voice low, almost as though he were speaking to himself.
Fitzwilliam clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Simple. Speak with her. She is not one to shy away from honesty, and I daresay she appreciates the same in you. If there is any misunderstanding, clear it. Marriage, dear cousin, thrives on communication."
Before Darcy could reply, the sound of feminine laughter floated toward them, light and melodic. He turned sharply, his heart lifting at the sight of Elizabeth stepping out of the modiste's doorway alongside Georgiana. Elizabeth carried herself with her usual poise, though her cheeks were touched with a faint blush.
Darcy's breath caught as their eyes met. For a brief moment, the unease of the morning dissolved under the warmth of her gaze.
"Mr Darcy," Elizabeth greeted with a slight curtsy, her tone teasing, "have you and the Colonel been wandering the streets all this time?"
Fitzwilliam answered before Darcy could even open his mouth.
“We decided it was quite the day for a stroll around the park, and it was my suggestion to join you ladies afterwards. Darcy was powerless to refuse his favourite cousin, of course.”
“Well, I am very pleased to see you. Although, I am afraid Pemberley will be quite overrun with all my new purchases. I am sorry, but Georgiana is most persuasive.”
“I am sure whatever you have chosen will do very well.”
