Page 15 of A Good Memory is Unpardonable (Frolic and Romance #2)

Fourteen

I did heed Richard’s advice on one or two points over the next couple of weeks.

Matters I had dreaded were finally settled to my satisfaction, and I felt, at last, I had the right to hold my head erect.

I fancy that Elizabeth might have perceived my angst while I was yet in the midst, for so often that week I would look her way, my heart panging achingly against my ribs for what I thought I could not have, and she would reward me with an instant’s smile.

It was only the compassionate smile of a friend, but it was manna to me.

Surely, she could not know how it encouraged me, inspired me to learn to be the man she deserved.

Perhaps that shared glance mattered a good deal less to her, but to me, it was the ray of light I sorely craved.

We did engage in a few more chess battles, most of which I permitted her to win.

It was worth it to see the wicked gleam in her eye as she flashed me that cheeky look of triumph.

It was worth anything, just to bow my head over the same board, our hands nearly touching, the sweet smell of lavender water soothing me even as her quickness and ready humor exhilarated me.

But it was only a shadow of what I really wanted from her.

Another playful kiss… I would not have let such a chance pass me again without pulling her to my chest and showing her precisely what her previous kisses had wrought. But I had no such opportunity.

Christmastide was fast approaching when I came back to Netherfield one day, after having completed an obligation that had been too long in the waiting.

The relief of that duty, slipping from my shoulders, nearly made me skip like a youth as I bounded through the front door.

I looked for Elizabeth at once, but I was told she was out.

Charles had gone to Longbourn for the afternoon—not much of a surprise, as he had failed to heed my cautions about falling in love with Jane Bennet.

Eventually, I joined Georgiana in her sitting room and watched her paint.

I never told her anything about my business in town that morning, because there was no need.

She was starting to learn happiness again, and that was all I truly desired.

These days, she is Countess de Tourney at the center of the London scene, but that afternoon, she was simply my sweet little sister once more, and that was enough.

So relaxed was I, and perfectly unaware of the hour, that I was ignorant of what was taking place downstairs.

Later I learned that the servants were looking for me, but no one thought to search Georgiana’s private rooms. I came down, whistling and straightening my coat, thinking Elizabeth would be returned by then, but I was rudely arrested on the stair by the sound of someone shouting my name from the drawing-room.

“Fitzwilliam Darcy and my daughter are formed for one another! Since their cradles, his mother and I planned their union. You have no decency if you could dream of pretending to such a lofty status. It cannot be borne—it shall not be!”

Lady Catherine! My blood turned to ice, and I gripped the banister to stumble down as fast as my clumsy feet could carry me.

My aunt had always nursed some fantasy that I was engaged to my cousin Anne, though I had never encouraged her.

And now, for some reason, she had come to Netherfield, thinking to stake her claim to me and warn Elizabeth off!

She seemed to care little who might overhear because the halls of the house echoed with her contempt.

“Are you engaged to him?” my aunt thundered.

I was still racing across the entry hall, my boots skidding on the polished floors. I know the servants were gawking at me, and Heaven only knows what was said of me later, but I was in a blind panic to keep my aunt from destroying that which I had not yet built.

“No,” I heard Elizabeth answer.

Ten more steps. I could make it!

“And will you promise me never to enter such an engagement?”

I streaked to the door, my chest heaving, but my fingers trembled, and I dared not touch the latch. Perhaps I would rather not hear Elizabeth’s answer.

“I will make no promise of the kind. I am determined to act in a way that will constitute my own happiness, without regard to you or anyone so unconnected with me. And from my acquaintance with Mr. Darcy, I can readily state that he is not one to be worked upon for any motivations but his own, which are, in my experience, often in accord with mine.”

She… she did not say she would never marry me!

I placed a hand over my chest, trying to steady my hammering heart and slow my staggered breathing.

Did she even imply that we… we might share the same hopes?

I swallowed one quavering breath, commanded myself to come together, and opened the door without knocking.

Elizabeth graced the center of the room, taking her stand in the middle of the rug so that Lady Catherine could neither force her into a seat nor back her into a corner.

My aunt must have felt all the insolence of it, for she was pacing a horseshoe around Elizabeth as if seeking some way to physically intimidate her and failing.

She checked herself mid-stride upon my entry.

I do not like recounting much about the conversation that followed.

All I will tell are the things that lasted from that moment—the things worth remembering.

I remember how Elizabeth’s cheeks warmed, and her eyes brightened when she saw me.

It was not the look of a trapped animal sensing escape; more like a comrade in arms, hoisting the flag and cheering when I joined her.

I remember her steady defiance of my aunt, her absolute unwavering refusal to capitulate and renounce me.

How she never resorted to rudeness or hostility, as my aunt did, but swatted away Lady Catherine’s complaints with humor and, as a last resort, utter boredom.

But what I remember the most, the thing that warmed my soul and made the whole sorry episode worth enduring, was that Elizabeth refused to leave me.

Lady Catherine tried—oh, how she tried to dismiss my woman from my side!

But Elizabeth only tilted her head with that brazen smile and asked me with those fine, expressive eyes whether I wished for her to go or stay. I smiled back.

She stayed.

My aunt might have been enraged, but I… I was bewitched.