Page 86 of Her Whole Heart
“There was a great deal of smoke, and I could see some flames in the ceiling.”
Mr. Darcy met her gaze with a serious look. “Forgive me for interrupting.”
She took a deep breath and continued. “When I reached Lady Henrietta’s room, she came to the door and asked what I was doing there. I told her there was a fire, and she went back inside. I presumed she had gone to fetch her coat, for as I said, it was cold.” She hesitated.
“But at some point, you realised she was not with you,” Darcy prompted.
“The smoke was very thick, but I had kept careful track of where we were, and I led them all out to the top of the stairs, where the air was better. But when I counted the girls, I came up one short.”
“You went back for her?”
“Lady Penelope suggested that I was the best person for the job.” She smiled wryly. “I was resentful, but I could not simply leave her there, no matter how much I wished it was someone else’s job to do it. So yes, I went back.”
“And the fire had progressed, I presume?”
“As fire tends to do, yes.”
He smiled encouragingly.
“I managed to wake your cousin enough to get her to stumble to the window, and she revived a bit with the fresh air. Enough that we could climb down the trellis, for there was no other way out by that time.” She looked away. “But Lady Henrietta was too heavy for it, and so somewhere around the first floor, the whole thing separated from the wall and down we went.”
Mr. Darcy was very still, and until she looked up and was caught in his gaze, Elizabeth did not know what to think. But in his eyes she saw not only belief, but admiration.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “So Lady Henrietta was unkind to you—shoved you, accosted you, locked you in a classroom”—his eyes were glossy, though no tears escaped them—“and you went back to save her anyway.”
Elizabeth’s voice was eerily hollow, and she wondered at it. “Someone had to.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Elizabeth felt Mr. Darcy taking her hands.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice as hoarse as hers. “Although Lady Henrietta is not my favourite relation, my family has suffered so many losses already, I do not like to think of losing anyone else.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Whatever for?”
“Believing me.”
His eyebrows pinched together. “Miss Elizabeth, you have always been honest with me.”
She laughed quietly. “Yes, you are a frequent recipient of my frankness.”
His lips curled up on one side. It was a mischievous look on a man who was more often stern, and she liked it very much. “Then please allow me to say—I shall always believe you.”
She blinked away the tears that threatened. “Oh, you have now given me a wonderful boon, Mr. Darcy. I may say any number of ridiculous things, and you will have to believe them all.”
He was not fooled by her nonsense, she could see that in his gaze. But he allowed it, and the remainder of their visit was spent in much pleasanter conversation.
For the three days preceding Lady Morgan’s ball, Elizabeth received a token from Mr. Darcy. First, there was a small book of sonnets. Then an elegant silk ribbon bookmark for the book. And finally, some sheet music for the flute that appeared far simpler than the piece Georgiana had written for her—she might actually be able to do it justice. Then, on the morning of the ball, Mr. Darcy sent each of the ladies, including Lady Carlisle, a small bouquet of flowers.
Elizabeth’s were the only roses, six of them, deep red, tied with a white silk ribbon.
“He is quite the efficient lover, is he not, Miss Elizabeth?” Lord Carlisle said with a laugh. “I would never have guessed it.”
“Nor I,” she admitted. But it was a glorious feeling to be so caredfor.
“Perhaps his sister helped him,” Lady Carlisle suggested with a sly glance. “For I think Miss Darcy is as excited about having Elizabeth for a sister as her brother is pleased to have her for his wife.”
“He has made no proposal, Lady Carlisle,” Elizabeth demurred.
