Page 45 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy
“And yet, I wonder if my affections are based on gratitude,” Elizabeth confessed. “He has done so much for our family. Perhaps it clouds my judgement, making me see virtues in him I might not have otherwise.”
Mary placed her book in her lap and folded her hands neatly over it, her expression thoughtfully composed. “Gratitudemay sometimes be mistaken for something deeper. When someone acts as a saviour, particularly in desperate times, we cannot help but feel an attachment towards them.”
Elizabeth frowned. “You make it sound as though I am a child swayed by flattery.”
Mary gave a small shake of her head. “I would not diminish your feelings. I believe you are sincere. But sincerity and wisdom do not always walk hand in hand. You must ask yourself whether Mr Darcy has truly changed… or whether you are simply seeing him differently now.”
Elizabeth stood by the window, gazing out at the gardens. “Thank you,” she said at last, turning back to Mary. “Your honesty is precisely what I needed.”
Mary inclined her head slightly. “You are welcome, Lizzy. I do hope Mr Darcy is as genuine as he seems. For your sake.”
Chapter 26
Darcy
15th October 1812
Darcy entered the house, struck by how quiet it was. Georgiana, Mary, and Kitty had departed the previous day for Matlock. Mary Bennet had been notably unimpressed by the idea of the journey, which had disappointed him. He had hoped she would find some cheer in the venture. Yet, he wondered now if her melancholy, which had persisted for the last ten days since he first discussed the trip with her, wasn’t rooted in homesickness after all. Elizabeth and Kitty had insisted that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t think of any other explanation. Perhaps her time at Matlock would improve her spirits.
Lady Matlock had been more than willing to host the three of them. In fact, Darcy had learned that both Richard and Anne had already announced their intentions to join the gathering. Not so, of course, with Lady Catherine, whose absence was likely to be a relief to all involved.
He shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips, and then paused as he heard the sound of approaching footsteps on the marble floor behind him. Turning, he met Elizabeth’s curious gaze.
“What are you shaking your head for, Darcy?” she asked.
He hesitated before replying. “Just thinking about this weekend at Matlock. It will be rather crowded.”
“Do you wish we had joined them?” she enquired.
“No,” he said. “I was looking forward to a little peace and quiet.”
Her expression shifted ever so slightly, and Darcy wondered if he had said the wrong thing.
“I did not mean that I don’t enjoy the hustle and bustle of a full house,” he quickly clarified, “but sometimes, it is nice to have a bit of quiet.”
“I thought you were about to say you were tired of us,” she teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Never,” he said fervently. “I could never tire of you.” Darcy looked at her intently, hoping to convey that what he truly meant was her—Elizabeth alone. He could never tire of Elizabeth. She was the one who made him laugh and smile, the one whose presence seemed to brighten even the darkest corners of his life.
“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” she said, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. “And what will you do with your free time?”
“I should tend to the ledger. I should visit the tenants,” he replied. “I should catch up on my correspondence.”
Elizabeth tilted her head, an amused smile playing on her lips. “Those are a great many things you ‘should’ do. What about the things you want to do?”
He chuckled softly. “There are indeed many things I want. I want to sit and read. I want to ride. I want to play chess.”
Her smile widened. “Such humble wishes. Can you not make them true? You are master of Pemberley, after all.”
“And you its mistress,” he said without thinking. Her smile faltered for a moment, and though it returned, it seemed a little less bright.
“I suppose I am. For the time being,” she murmured.
Darcy wasn’t sure if she intended the words to cut, but they did. He stepped back slightly, catching his breath.
“You can be mistress of Pemberley for as long as you wish it. As I’ve told you,” he said carefully.
“And I am grateful,” she replied, though her tone suggested otherwise. “But must we speak of this now?”
