Page 105 of Her Whole Heart
“I have only had the house a little more than a week, but I have been working on it every day. I now have a cook, a butler, and a housekeeper installed, and my first meal there was served two nights ago.” Mr. Bingley smiled. “No more eating at the club, for Mrs. Vane is exceptionally good. I think you will like her.”
Elizabeth glanced at Jane and saw her blush. Mr. Bingley was already talking about cooks and yet had not asked Jane any questions.
“Come now, Mr. Bingley,” she muttered. “Do not allow yourself to become distracted.”
Perhaps he heard, for he took Jane’s hand in his own. “Miss Bennet, from the moment we met, I knew that you would be special to me. Your intelligence, your kindness, your grace, and perhaps most of all, your patience—all tell me that you are the woman for me.” He paused to gaze into her eyes. “Have I any hope that I am the man for you?”
It was not a proposal Elizabeth would have liked for herself, but Jane would adore it.
Her sister’s free hand rose to her cheek. “Mr. Bingley, I . . .”
“Miss Bennet,” he said after she hesitated, lifting her hand to his lips. Elizabeth studiously looked away. “Miss Bennet,” he said, “would you do me the extraordinary honour of becoming my wife?”
Elizabeth smiled to herself.Better, Mr. Bingley.
Jane half laughed, half sobbed. “Yes, Mr. Bingley. I would be very happy to be your wife.”
Mr. Bingley rose to his feet and pulled Jane into a tender embrace, and Elizabeth kept her eyes on the pages of her book, though she read none of it. Once she thought she had given them enough time for a gentle kiss, Elizabeth peeked up through her lashes.
“Lizzy!” Jane cried. “I am to be married!”
Elizabeth was unable to contain her joy any longer. She abandoned her pretence of reading and rushed to congratulate her sister.
Mr. Bingley received her congratulations with a broad smile and excused himself to speak to Lord Carlisle.
“I can hardly believe it!” Jane said, embracing Elizabeth. “I am to be married to the most wonderful man in the world.”
Elizabeth tightened her arms around her sister. It was exactly why they had come to London, but it would still be difficult to part from Jane. They had been everything to one another—their own parents, the best of friends. And now, things would be different.
“What is the date today, Janey?” Elizabeth whispered in Jane’s ear.
“April the eighth,” Jane replied, perplexed. “Why?”
“I believe we made a little wager the night before we left Longbourn, did we not?”
Jane was quiet for a moment, searching her memory, before she laughed gaily. “You could hardly have known I would receive an offer before Easter.”
“You did cut it rather close,” Elizabeth agreed. “But Easter is not until Sunday.” She leaned close to her sister. “Fortunately it comes rather late this year.”
Jane laughed again, more quietly this time. “Oh, Lizzy,” she said with a sigh, “can you believe things would end in this happy way?”
Elizabeth saw Lady Carlisle and Amelia standing in the doorway with hopeful expressions, and waved them in. “I can,” she told her sister fondly, “and I do.”
Chapter Thirty
The grand salon at Beecham House buzzed with energy. The hum of voices, the clink of wineglasses, the appreciation for the several tables where punch, fruits, and cakes were arranged—all combined to provide a bracing atmosphere. Cordelia had also arranged the room quite cleverly to accommodate their smaller group of thirty or so people—providing ample room for mingling without making the room feel too large.
And, Elizabeth noted, there was not a single hawk in sight.
She was a little disappointed at that last, for she would dearly have loved to hear what Mr. Darcy would have said. Something rather dry and witty, she was sure.
Her hostess was at present engaged with Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was pressing the merits of pigeons as messengers. Cordelia smiled almost wickedly when she said, “But Colonel, surely you must know that hawks are naturally predators of pigeons. Your feathered emissaries would be of no use if they happened across a hawk in flight.”
The colonel was undeterred. “Miss Cordelia, I believe you underestimate the speed and agility of a well-trained carrier pigeon.” Georgiana andLady Henrietta listened to the spirited exchange with barely contained amusement.
Elizabeth was speaking with a Mr. Kershaw of Lancashire, a man of average height, thinning brown hair, and keen, intelligent eyes. He was an acquaintance of Lords Carlisle and Matlock and a diplomat in the king’s service who was regaling her with the phrases and customs of the places he had been in his travels—Germany, Portugal, Spain, Italy, and a few other countries Elizabeth could not recall. It was quite interesting, but she thought she knew someone who would enjoy it more. She smiled and held out her hand to Diana as she walked past. Diana instinctively took it and was gently pulled to Elizabeth’s side.
“Diana, you must come speak with Mr. Kershaw.” Elizabeth smiled at her friend’s curious expression. “Mr. Kershaw, may I present Miss Loughty? She has a keen interest in linguistics and a gift for languages that may rival your own.”
