Page 148 of Companions of Their Youth
Darcy opened his mouth to speak, unsure if he meant to argue or simply assert his right to remain at her side—but Elizabeth turned to him with a soft smile and laid her hand briefly on his.
“It is all right,” she said quietly. “Stephens is more like an uncle than my father’s valet—they have been together since my father’s school days.”
He looked once more at Stephens, who stood waiting, his expression unbending but respectful.
Darcy inclined his head. “Very well.”
He turned to Elizabeth. Her eyes shone gently up at him, tired but steady. “Good night, Fitzwilliam,” she murmured.
“Good night,” he said softly. “Sleep well.”
She nodded, and with that, Stephens guided her inside with quiet efficiency, leaving Darcy alone in the cold hush of the porch.
Only once the door shut behind them did he return to the carriage, climbing in slowly, his lips still tingling from where they had touched hers.
The vehicle rocked forward, lanterns swinging gently with the motion.
He leaned back, breathing in deep. His thoughts circled around her smile, the press of her lips to his, the way she had saidour engagementlike it was already a promise written in stone.
She is mine,he thought again, this time with more certainty.And I—I am hers.
He let out a breath, half laugh, half sigh.
He needed to speak with the vicar.
The banns would be called at once.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth stepped into the warmth of Longbourn’s entrance hall, Stephens guiding the door closed behind them. The lamps glowed low, and the familiar scent of beeswax and hearth smoke seemed to welcome her home.
“I truly am unharmed,” she said again as they crossed the hall. “You need not hover so, Stephens. My father will tell you everything, and I promise I will recover with no more than a night’s sleep.”
Stephens gave her a long, measuring look, then let out a soft exhale and nodded. “Very well, miss. If you say so.”
His eyes softened, and for a moment the stern lines of his face gave way to a look of such paternal fondness that her throat nearly closed. She smiled up at him.
But before either could say more, she yawned. Immensely. Her hand flew to cover her mouth, but the moment passed, and Stephens chuckled.
“I believe that is my cue. Come along now. Let us get you to bed before anyone sees that gown.”
He ushered her gently up the stairs, calling softly for Sarah as they reached the landing.
The young maid appeared from the nearby corridor within moments, her eyes widening at the sight of Elizabeth’s rumpled gown and disheveled hair.
“Oh, Miss! Your dress—!”
“It is all right, Sarah,” Elizabeth said, stepping into her room. “It looks worse than it is. One of the soldiers had a bit too much to drink and stumbled into me. Mr. Darcy was there, and he protected me.”
She began unfastening the torn shoulder with fumbling fingers. “And we are to be married,” she added, her voice soft but sure.
Sarah gasped, then beamed. “Oh, Miss Bennet—how wonderful! Congratulations! He is a good man, that Mr. Darcy. Always polite to the servants, even in a rush. Mrs. Nicholls says he’s the only guest at Netherfield who leaves his boots outside the kitchen instead of treading through the back stair.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Of course your mother would tell you.”
“She has a soft spot for you girls, ever since she was a maid at Longbourn herself. Says you and Miss Jane used to pluck the flowers off the parlor arrangements just to gift them back to the maids.”
Elizabeth grinned as she sat, letting Sarah tug off her shoes. “I always preferred Polly to Meg. Polly let me sneak biscuits when I returned from walking. Meg scolded every time Mark and I came in covered in mud.”
