Page 171 of Companions of Their Youth
Darcy shut his eyes. The words settled in his chest like balm.
They prayed together—no flowery language, no elaborate confession, just quiet words, honest and simple. When they finished, the old man laid a hand gently on his shoulder.
“You may feel unsettled still,” he said. “But do not let that keep you from the final part of this journey. You must speak with the one you love. Tell her what God has done in your heart.”
Darcy nodded slowly.
“Thank you,” he said.
Outside, the air was sharp and cold. He drew in a breath that cut straight through his lungs.
Netherfield was to the left.
But he turned right.
Toward Longbourn.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth sat curled in her usual place by the hearth, her hands resting loosely in her lap. Mr. Bennet’s voice carried softly as he read aloud from the family Bible, the cadence warm and familiar, though she barely heard the words.
Her mind wandered.
She had tried not to dwell on it. Truly she had. All through church, she had smiled and nodded and replied to pleasantries. She had engaged in conversation during luncheon and praised Kitty’s embroidery work when it was shown. But beneath it all… the ache remained.
That look on his face. The quiet regret in his admission.I am not inexperienced.
She knew it was not unusual. She had told herself so a dozen times. He had been honest. Respectful. Not cruel or careless. It had happened before he loved her. She had no reason to feel this… this ache.
And yet she did.
It was not jealousy—at least, not in the ordinary sense. It was something deeper, more fragile.
What if she could not be enough?
What if he compared her, even unintentionally? What if he remembered the practiced ease of other women, and she—with her nerves and blushes and inexperience—disappointed him?
She had tried to pray the unease away last night, but it had clung to her like fog, low and heavy, curling in her thoughts.
A knock at the front door startled them all.
Moments later, Hill entered, cheeks a little pink. “Mr. Darcy, ma’am.”
Elizabeth sat upright at once, her heart leaping in her chest.
Darcy entered the room, snow still clinging to his boots. He bowed to the assembled company, but his eyes found only her.
“Might I have a private word with Elizabeth?”
Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth, clearly about to protest such boldness, but Mr. Bennet spoke first.
“The study is free,” he said mildly, closing the Bible and standing. “Elizabeth, you may take Mr. Darcy there.”
Elizabeth rose, her knees slightly unsteady, and led Darcy down the hall to the familiar room lined with books and memories. He closed the door softly behind them, disregarding propriety.Well, we are engaged, after all,she thought.Besides, it would not do to be overheard.
For a long moment, he did not speak.
Then he exhaled slowly, his voice low. “I owe you an apology.”
