Page 23 of Look on the Heart (Darcy and Elizabeth Variations #10)

Elizabeth sighed. “I shall speak with her tonight,” she vowed. “Mary is a perfectly lovely person, though a little pedantic at times. ’Tis unfair to place this burden upon her without her consent. Oh, Mama will be livid if…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

They walked in silence for a moment before Darcy cleared his throat nervously. “Bingley is hosting a ball,” he said after a moment. “I would be honored if you would dance the first with me.”

She turned and looked up at him, beaming. “I would be pleased to!” she replied, her delight unmistakable. “I dearly love to dance.”

Darcy could scarcely believe it. He let out a breath he had not known he held and grinned.

“I look forward to it.” They returned to the house, hoping for tea after their time in the cold.

In the drawing room, Mrs. Bennet hovered over the tea tray, prattling about balls and fripperies while she poured.

“Jane is an excellent dancer, Mr. Bingley,” she said. “You will not regret partnering with her for two sets.”

Before Bingley could answer, Mr. Collins interrupted.

“I flatter myself that a clergyman may enjoy such delightful entertainments on occasion. I, too, anticipate your glorious event, sir. In fact, I should like to take this moment to solicit the hand of my fair cousin, Miss Mary, for the first two sets. Indeed, I hope to secure a set with each of my cousins.” He turned and offered Miss Mary a smile of such obsequious warmth that she recoiled slightly before granting her reluctant acceptance.

Once assured of the first set, Mr. Collins proceeded to request a set from each of the remaining sisters.

The gentlemen departed soon thereafter. Darcy listened quietly as Bingley chattered, his thoughts drifting to the many events of the past days.

Wickham was gone. Miss Elizabeth had agreed to allow him to call…

I shall write to Georgiana. Perhaps she will come to Meryton.

Upon reaching Netherfield, he retired to his chambers and composed a letter, determined to send it with the next post.

Dear Georgie,

I have much to tell you. Indeed, our cousin may have already shared the news before this letter reaches you, but I shall not delay.

Wickham is gone. He appeared in Meryton, the small market town near Netherfield Park, and I sent word to Richard at once.

Our cousin came without hesitation, and the blackguard is now safely confined in debtor’s prison.

My dear sister, he cannot harm you any longer.

You are free. I am free. At last, we both are free.

I want you to join me in Hertfordshire, dearest. I believe you would find the neighborhood much to your liking.

There are young ladies of your age, and you would have the opportunity to meet Elizabeth.

She is a remarkable woman, and I believe her warmth of spirit would surely benefit us both.

Will you come? Richard might escort you, or I shall fetch you myself once Bingley’s ball is concluded.

Did I tell you? There is to be a ball at Netherfield Park on the twenty-sixth of November.

Bingley has flustered his sisters by insisting upon it and then demanding the preparations be completed in haste.

He wishes to dance with his angel. I believe he will marry Miss Bennet, though his sisters oppose the match.

They make a handsome pair, and I wish him every happiness.

Write to me soon, and we shall make all the arrangements.

All my love,

FD

Dinner that night proved tedious. Miss Bingley insisted upon lamenting the upcoming ball and the many preparations it required.

Darcy ignored her, his thoughts occupied with the hope that he might walk out on the morrow.

The storm clouds still hung heavy overhead, though they had yet to release their burden.

He retired early, determined to make the attempt.

Morning dawned with a distinct chill in the air. He set out on horseback, keeping an eye on the gathering storm. Elizabeth awaited him atop Oakham Mount, where he dismounted and took her hand in greeting.

“You look lovely this morning,” he said, pressing a kiss to her fingers.

“I worried the rain would begin before I could set out.” She smiled, her eyes alight with warmth. Darcy led her to their fallen log, and together they gazed out over the fields in companionable silence.

“Mary retired before…” she hesitated. “I shall make the attempt after breakfast.”

Oh, how he adored her! He reached out and took her hand, which rested on the log between them. Darcy caressed her fingers, pivoting so he faced her.

“Miss Elizabeth,” he began, “I…admire you—very much.” He could not say love yet, not until he was certain she was unlike the others. His heart yearned to trust her, but a lifetime of judgment and cruelty had taught him caution.

She looked at him tenderly. Elizabeth’s free hand rose and touched his cheek where the crimson stain marred his skin. She did not recoil; rather, she traced its edge with her thumb.

“I look forward to our dance, sir,” she said. “The first set! Never has that dance meant so much to me…until now.”

Darcy lifted his hand to rest over hers, still pressed to his cheek, and closed his eyes. With his other hand, he wove his fingers through hers where they rested on the log between them. A sudden raindrop struck his face, jolting him out of his reverie.

“You will be soaked by the time you reach home,” he said, releasing both her hands.

“As will you,” she teased. “Until we meet again, Mr. Darcy.”

She rose and hurried away, pausing at the edge of the mount to wave. Darcy remained still until she was out of sight, then mounted his horse and trotted back to Netherfield.

I am well and truly lost.