Page 61 of Her Whole Heart
“Mr. Darcy,” she whispered, “be careful. We would not want to give rise to expectations.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” he told her, his deep voice making her tremble in a way that had little to do with the evening chill, “The only question is whether you wish to accept my hand”—he paused, then smiled teasingly—"to your carriage.”
Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his. She felt the warmth of his touch through the fabric of his glove, and for a moment, the world around them stilled. The spell was broken by the sound of Lord Carlisle clearing his throat, a gentle reminder of where they were.
Mr. Darcy steadied her as she stepped up.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said, and slipped into the coach. “And good evening.”
As the carriage pulled away into the night, Elizabeth settled back against the plush seat, her heart racing with a curious mixture of exhilaration and contentment. The evening had been a triumph.
Thank goodness.
Chapter Nineteen
In the days that followed the eventful evening at the theatre, Darcy found himself drawn into a whirlwind of social engagements with his family as well as the Carlisles. While he generally preferred to avoid such constant activity, he could not deny the pleasure he felt in seeing Georgiana truly happy. She was at Carlisle House nearly every other day, the friendships that had appeared so promising growing into true affection on all sides. The unnaturally high demands on his time for social excursions to demonstrate the friendship between the Darcy, Matlock, and Carlisle families were therefore more easily borne.
As the ladies endeavoured to quell any remaining gossip through their demonstrations of normalcy, Darcy joined his uncle, male cousins, and Lord Carlisle in frequenting their clubs to create a show of solidarity in the face of those who might still seek to tarnish the reputations of either Miss Elizabeth or Georgiana and their families. He and Fitz had also dragged Milton to Angelo’s a few times while Lords Carlisle and Matlock smoked cigars and drank brandy with their colleagues in the House of Lords.
And though Darcy reminded himself that his concern must be for his sister, his thoughts invariably drifted to Miss Elizabeth. Was she truly wellor only hiding her concerns? She was particularly skilled at pretending she was content.
He had initially assumed that once the worst of the gossip had subsided, he would withdraw from the constant company of the Carlisles and allow Georgiana to continue her visits independently. He had his own business matters to attend to, after all, and it was not as though he could claim any particular attachment to Miss Elizabeth beyond gratitude for her role in protecting Georgiana from both physical and emotional harm. But every moment in her company made him return to the thought that he would like to court her.
He did not havethatmany items of business just now. His uncle had been determined he would make himself available for selecting a bride this season, and Darcy had dutifully completed a great deal of his work in the weeks before the festive season.
It was not even that he wished to withdraw. He simply did not know how to approach her, having so grievously insulted her at their first meeting and then taking so long to realise he had never properly apologised. Would she even believe that his feelings had changed?
Each time they met in company now, and they did meet frequently although always amidst a family party, he found himself increasingly drawn to her. Her lively wit and keen intellect were tempered by a seriousness that resonated with his own understanding of life’s complexities. In the few moments they were able to share, whether in brief conversation or even companionable silence, he had begun to recognise a kindred spirit, one who navigated an often-uncaring world with an admirable sort of resilient grace.
It was during one such meeting at Carlisle House, a fortnight after their show of power at the theatre, that Darcy found himself watching Miss Elizabeth as she sat at the pianoforte with Georgiana, their headsbent together in conspiratorial whispers and barely suppressed giggles. The unusually bright winter sunlight streamed into the room as it moved between clouds, one moment gloomy, the next casting a golden glow upon her mahogany curls, the melodic sound of her laughter filling the room with a warmth that defeated the damp winter chill he had brought in with him.
“Brother!” Georgiana exclaimed when her gaze fell on him. “I had no idea it was so late. Forgive me. May I go upstairs to bid farewell to Jane and Amelia?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
Georgiana smiled at Elizabeth who waved her off with a smile of her own. “We shall see you on Monday, then?”
“I would not miss it,” Georgiana replied, and fairly floated out of the room.
Just like that, he found himself in a room alone with Miss Elizabeth. The door was open, to be sure, but he took advantage of their comparative privacy to approach the instrument, where she was gathering up the music they had used and carefully organizing the sheets.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he inquired gently. “I hope you can forgive me for broaching what may be a delicate subject, and you must tell me if you wish me to desist, but . . .” He trailed off, not knowing precisely how to continue.
“You may ask me any manner of question if you wish, Mr. Darcy,” she said. She sounded certain, but he noted the way that she held the music sheets to her chest, a symbolic shield against intrusion.
“You said something, that night at the theatre, after Mr. Loughty was rightly put in his place.”
“And what was that, Mr. Darcy?”
He hesitated. Would it be ruder to ask the question or ruder not to ask, now that he had piqued her curiosity?
This was Miss Elizabeth—she would find it more irritating if he stopped.
“When you thanked me for taking Mr. Loughty to task, you mentioned that you were not used to being defended in such a way. I confess, I cannot imagine that your parents, at least, would not provide protection for their daughters, especially one as remarkable as you.”
What he really wanted was to ascertain that she was well, but he could not seem to bring himself around to asking it. He was making a muddle of the thing, and she would rightly believe him forward.
Instead, Miss Elizabeth took a deep breath. “It is complicated, Mr. Darcy. My family situation is not one I speak of very often.”
