Page 24 of A Cleverly (Un)contrived Compromise (Love’s Little Helpers #3)

CHAPTER 24

T he question that had seemed reasonable before she heard herself say it aloud now sounded petty and meddlesome, and Elizabeth was neither of those. Nor was Mr. Darcy. No wonder he gaped at her.

“Pray do not take my request seriously, Mr. Darcy. As commanding of a gentleman as you are, I doubt you have authority enough over Mr. Bingley’s heart to make him do anything he is not pleased to do.”

Mr. Darcy looked struck. She smiled, trying to lighten the air and figuratively kicking herself for her foolish request.

Finally, he spoke. “It is perfectly natural for you to wish your sister advantageously settled.”

Elizabeth lifted a finger. “And happy in love.”

“And h-happy… in l-love.” The way he tripped over his words, the pinch in his eyes, the unsteadiness of his breath made Elizabeth wonder if he was thinking about their own impending marriage.

Her uncle liked to say that the truest test of a person’s character was to observe them in hot water. Mr. Darcy had proved himself honorable, understanding, and loyal. She liked him more each day. She could see herself in love with him…eventually. She prayed so.

“Do you believe we shall be happy?” she whispered, the noise of her heartbeat in her ears deafening.

His dark gaze slammed into Elizabeth, vibrating through her limbs and making her stance unsteady. She clutched onto his arm, too shaken to trust her own body to support her or to look away. He moved in front of her, so close the lapels of his coat brushed against the folds of her wrap. She did not mean to, but her hands rested against his chest, not to push him away or to create a barrier, but just to feel the rise and fall of his breath under the wool of his greatcoat. Warmth radiated off him in waves like rays from the sun, pulling her up to her toes, to get closer to its source. His breath tickled against her cheek, her lips.

He smelled of bergamot and spice, hot tea on a cold day. Elizabeth parted her lips, a thirst she had never known overwhelming her.

Splat! A fat, frigid raindrop plunked onto the end of her nose and dribbled down her chin. Splat! Splat! More thunked onto the brim of her bonnet. She held her hand out, disbelieving and resenting the interruption. When had it started to rain?

A blast of cold air smacked against her where Mr. Darcy had been standing. He held his hat in one hand and tugged through his hair with the other, looking supremely apologetic.

Elizabeth was not sorry. Not in the least. She was giddy with hope and the stirrings of budding love. She was falling in love with Mr. Darcy! And he was not indifferent to her.

Playfully, she raised her skirts to the top of her half boots to better run and set off down the path. “Race you to Longbourn!” she tossed over her shoulder.

He caught up with her, his long strides easily keeping pace.

Leaping over a particularly muddy patch, Elizabeth slipped on the landing. Before she could squeal properly, Darcy's arms were around her, steadying her, holding her up, and pushing her forward with his momentum toward the warmth and safety of Longbourn.

"Thank you," she gasped, marveling at how expertly coordinated their movement had been and wondering how suspicious it would be if she were to slip again so she could feel his strong arms around her once more.

He could have won the race, but he stayed at her side, his hand close to her arm should she slip again.

Together they reached the gravel, and that was where Elizabeth’s competitive spirit rose. Lungs screaming, legs burning, she dashed down the drive to Longbourn's door, laughing as she heard Darcy behind her.

Mrs. Hill opened the front door just as they reached it. She pointed to the boot scraper with a stern look and a dry shawl in her hands, which she wrapped around Elizabeth's shoulders.

"Your mother is receiving callers in the drawing room." With a smile and a glint in her eye, she added, "You will find the fire warm and the tea plentiful."

Darcy returned her smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Hill."

The woman grinned wide enough to show the gap where she had a tooth pulled the year before. Elizabeth beamed up at Darcy. When had he learned the housekeeper's name? He might be above his company, but he was courteous to the servants.

A welcome sight greeted them in the drawing room. Miss Darcy sipped tea along with her companion and took a delicate bite of cake while the colonel regaled his captivated audience with a lively tale, a kitten perched on his shoulder.

Kitty and Lydia played with the fluffy white and cinnamon kitten on the settee.

"There you are!" Mama jumped up from her chair, ushering Elizabeth and Darcy closer to the fire. "Do not stand too near, Lizzy! You remember the time you singed your bottom. I told Mr. Bennet that you would get caught in the rain, but I did not worry. I knew Mr. Darcy was with you to keep you warm."

Elizabeth held her breath, trying in vain to control her blush. She glanced up at Darcy, needing to make sure he was not offended by her mother.

"I assure you, madam, your daughter is too quick on her feet for any such attempts to succeed."

Papa chuckled, and Elizabeth once again had to wonder. Who was this tall, handsome man standing beside her at the fire and teasing her mother good-naturedly?

Mama continued prattling as she rearranged the seating so that the two chairs nearest the fireplace were free for Elizabeth and Darcy. Elizabeth hoped that he would notice her mother's thoughtfulness more than her empty conversation… especially when the topic turned to Mr. Bingley.

"I had hoped Mr. Bingley would call today, but the colonel assures us that only the most urgent business would keep him away from Jane."

The color drained from Miss Darcy's face despite the warmth in the room.

Colonel Fitzwilliam cleared his throat. "A meeting with his bailiff, if I recall." Had Elizabeth not been watching the colonel, she might have missed the look he exchanged with Darcy and the nod he received in reply.

She, too, approved Mr. Bingley’s discretion. His consideration did him credit.

The colonel raised his plate, plucking a crumb to feed the kitten on his shoulder. “My compliments to your cook, Mrs. Bennet. This is the finest gingerbread I have enjoyed in a long time. Is that not so, Georgiana?" He nudged her gently.

The dear girl looked up at Mama with a timorous smile. "Oh, yes… it is delicious. I-I wonder if your… cook might be willing to… share her receipt?” Her cheeks flushed and she clutched her hands in her lap. "That is, if she does not mind... if it is not a family secret." She picked at her fingers.

Elizabeth's heart went out to her. While it was strange that Mr. Bingley did not accompany the rest of his party to call, Elizabeth suspected that Miss Darcy's brother and cousin were doing their best to encourage a distance until her heart was strong enough to stand on its own. It was what she would do for her sisters.

Mama was delighted. "Imagine that! Our cook's cake served to the finest families in London!"

Jane said, "Colonel Fitzwilliam was entertaining us with stories of his time in Portugal."

Kitty asked, "Did you ever find your boots?"

"That I did, although the state in which I found them rather made me wish I had not."

Everyone leaned forward except Darcy, who must already know this story. "They were beyond repair, much to my chagrin and that of my batman. What was not chewed up was covered in drool." He slapped his hand against his leg and guffawed. "They are still buried in Vimeiro! I learned a valuable lesson that day: The latest fashion is never worth a month's wages. I had to hobble around in the old, patched pair for months."

Lydia furrowed her brow. “Why did you not borrow the sum to have another pair made?”

The colonel shook his head. "I have known too many men who live on credit. They are wretched creatures always looking for relief and the next handout."

Lydia giggled, "But they look so handsome in their new boots and waistcoats. Surely, we are meant to live with pleasure. I would rather die than show up at an assembly in a gown that was horribly out of style."

Jane spoke softly. "Men who face death every day would be more concerned about remaining alive than looking handsome in their boots."

The colonel smiled at her, ignoring Lydia's protests to the contrary. Mama filled everyone’s empty plates with more cake, handing an especially generous portion to the colonel.

"Ah, the way to a man's heart," he said graciously, accepting his plate and feeding the kitten another crumb.

Elizabeth took advantage of the pause in conversation to ask about the kitten. “Is that the one that likes to climb the curtains?”

“The very one! Poor lad kept getting stuck partway up the silks, so I decided to give him a better view from my shoulder.” He rubbed under the kitten's chin. “He yowls every time I try to put him down, so we decided to bring him along.”

“I am glad you did! We are fond of cats at Longbourn,” Mama cooed.

“Why did you not bring them all?” Kitty asked.

“We did not wish to impose,” Miss Darcy replied. Her confidence increased as she spoke about the cats she adored. “That adventuresome one is too mischievous to leave behind with my maid, so we had to bring him. Then I could not leave his sister behind. We probably should have brought the white one that likes to hunt feathers.”

“He is my favorite! The black fur on his head looks just like a top hat set at a rakish angle! So charming! Pray bring them all the next time you call. They are no trouble at all.” Kitty ran her hand down the length of the female feline.

Miss Darcy looked about the room, looking less uncertain with every encouraging smile. “I would love that.”

Papa moved farther away from the fire. "Since that is now settled, I shall take my leave. I fear I am occupying too much room and shall therefore remove myself to my book room."

Mama rolled her eyes.

“How thoughtful of you,” Elizabeth commented dryly.

He tipped his head toward her. “Anything for the comfort of our guests.”

Darcy leaned toward Elizabeth. "I shall have to have a bed and wash basin installed in Pemberley's library."

Papa stopped mid-step. “Is that a promise, young man?”

The colonel interjected, “There are far worse places to encamp.”

"Is your library as grand as Miss Bingley claims?" Elizabeth was enjoying how well Darcy teased.

His eyes twinkled. "Grander."

She arched her brow. "Maybe I shall insist on having a cot installed there for me!"

The gleam in his eye said Not if I can help it.

A tap at the door interrupted their flirtation, perhaps for the best. Her face was hot enough.

If Papa had heard it, he pretended not to, and he calmly proceeded to his book room.

"Who would be out in this weather?" Mama frowned at the fogged window glass.

"Someone in need of a warm fire, a dry room, and hot tea." Kitty dangled a ribbon for the kitten in her lap. “Is that not so, you little angel?” She gasped. “That is the perfect name! Angel!”

Lydia shook her head. “Angel is too common. I shall call her Angelina.”

Miss Darcy smiled. “Angelina is a perfect name. Serafina would approve.” With her younger sisters, Miss Darcy seemed relaxed, like a girl without a worry or insecurity. “When Angelina is fully weaned, she is yours.”

Their unexpected callers entered the drawing room. Elizabeth’s two youngest sisters beamed, but Miss Darcy’s smile faded.

Lydia leaped to her feet. “Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham!”

Elizabeth saw Mr. Wickham blanch and swallow hard while sensing Darcy tense and grow larger beside her.