Page 47 of Losing Lizzy
“The house has our name,” she murmured as she snuggled into his body.
He allowed the natural sway of the coach to rock the child to sleep. Within minutes, Lizzy’s eyes fell closed, and she hummed a soft snore. Darcy had not known such contentment since he had been a small child upon his mother’s lap.
“It may take more than one day for me to make the necessary arrangements for my sister and Fitzwilliam and come to an ‘understanding’ with Lord Matlock,” he cautioned. “You told Sheffield we would return to Hertfordshire tomorrow. I donot want to disappoint you.”
“I did not think tomorrow was possible,” she admitted. “After all, it will be the Sabbath. I simply wished to keep Sheffield with us for a few more days. I do not wish him cut from our lives.”
“I agree,” he said with a nod. “I am losing my aunt and uncle. Each has played a major role in my life since my father’s passing.” He sighed heavily. “I want those I can trust to play a role in Elizabeth Anne’s future, no matter his or her station in life.”
“Mr. Sheffield is a gentleman’s son, as are you,” she argued.
“Yes, he is. I did not mean to sound as if I disapproved of Sheffield’s upbringing.”
“I know,” she said in honest tones. “It is just that I have something to confess.”
Darcy eyed her suspiciously. “Please do not tell me you hold atendrefor my former valet.”
She laughed softly. “I adore the man, and he holds my deepest gratitude, but not my heart, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Only you. Yet, that does not mean I do not worry for the gentleman’s future.”
He smiled easily at her. “And what future do you believe Mr. Sheffield deserves?”
“A wife. Children, naturally,” she said with such ease, proving she had thought long and hard on her conclusion.
“Women always think every man requires a wife and children to know satisfaction,” he countered. “If the practice of primogeniture did not rule the aristocracy and upper society, I suspect more than one man would have been happy to spend his days in bachelorhood.”
“I do not think every man deserves a wife and children. Men, such as Mr. Townsend would be a poor candidate for any woman.” She frowned deeply. “I still believe Charlotte Lucas’s choice a poor one, and you cannot tell me Mr. Wickham is the type to want a wife or children if someone did not pay him to acthonorably.”
“All good points,” he conceded.
“By the way, have you any knowledge of whether the Wickhams have presented my parents with a grandchild or not?”
“I do not. I did not think to ask of the pair when I spoke to Miss Bennet, and, she, thankfully, did not inquire of Mr. Bingley. I am not certain what I could have told her that she did not already know, and, as she did me a good turn, I would not have wanted to inflict more pain on her.”
“Thank you for that,” she said softly. “And as to the Wickhams, I suppose my mother will bring me up to snuff quickly enough.” She shrugged, “I pray our maneuverings did not bring sorrow to Lydia’s dreams.” She visibly shook away her doldrums. “The point I wish to make is, Mr. Sheffield would make some woman a devoted husband and would provide love to his children.”
“I assume you believe Sheffield should choose someone other than Mrs. Harris?” Darcy was enjoying this conversation because it provided him insights into Elizabeth’s mind. It was as if they had taken a step back in time to the days when they were still learning something of each other’s values. “I cannot say I was impressed with the lady,” Darcy admitted. “For what it is worth, I believe Sheffield is also less than happy in thinking the lady is his only choice.”
“Did he say something to you of the prospects of marrying Mrs. Harris?” she asked in interest.
“Just that the lady is not much of a reader,” he shared.
“Is that all?” Disappointment marked her features. “I was hoping he had come to his senses.”
“You do not understand the working of a man’s mind nor how we communicate with each other. When men speak of marriage, Elizabeth, such complaints regarding a woman’s lack of common interests is as good as a refusal for a man to propose.”
She presented him a large grin. “It is difficult to learn such nuances in a household of women. Then it was certainly true that your comment about my ‘fine eyes’ was an overture of youraffections?”
“It was. My affections have not waned, my love.” Heat flashed between them before they both reined it in. They still had a long way to go before they could claim the remnants of what once rested easily between them.
“Then Mr. Sheffield,” she said in quiet tones, “requires a woman who is a reader.”
“I would think a man who owns a bookstore would wish to be able to discuss books with his wife,” Darcy concluded. “What have you in mind, Elizabeth?”
“I was just considering how both Jane and Mary are avid readers.”
He teased, “You will not enjoy my observation.”
“And it is?” she challenged.
