Page 9 of Look on the Heart (Darcy and Elizabeth Variations #10)

Elizabeth understood his meaning at once.

“Poor Charlotte,” she murmured. “She, too, suffers from the world’s shallow notions.

As one of her closest friends, I can say with certainty that she has experienced heartache that she did not deserve.

Though her features are plain, her heart is good.

She is sensible and kind and owns a keen wit.

Miss Lucas would make any man a most excellent wife. ”

The thought that Mr. Darcy might have an interest in her friend gave Elizabeth a moment’s unease— jealousy , her mind supplied.

But she dismissed it. How could she feel such an emotion?

Mr. Darcy was a recent acquaintance. And yet…

she could not deny he had become dear to her.

She liked conversing with him more than any other gentleman she had known.

“I feel for her,” he murmured. “I believe she hoped…”

“Yes, I suspected as much, though she relinquished the notion almost at once. It speaks to her self-respect. Charlotte fears dependence upon her relations, and with a small dowry—barely five hundred pounds—and only her good sense to recommend her, potential suitors have looked past her more often than is just. At seven-and-twenty she is nearly on the shelf, and I believe the future frightens her.”

“You speak in her defense most admirably. Miss Lucas will yet find someone worthy.”

“I tell her as much, but she grows less inclined to believe it with each passing year.” Elizabeth sighed. “I had best return to Longbourn. My family is accustomed to my morning walks, but I have been longer abroad than usual.”

“Yes,” he concurred. “It would not do to make them worry.” He stood and extended his hand.

Elizabeth accepted it and allowed him to help her to her feet.

He held her hand a moment longer than strictly necessary.

Their eyes met, and she smiled shyly. He returned the smile before releasing her hand with reluctance.

“Until we meet again,” he murmured, taking a step back.

Cheeks warming in a blush, Elizabeth inclined her head and turned away.

She glanced over her shoulder as she reached the top of the descending path.

Mr. Darcy had mounted his horse with the aid of the old log and now raised a hand in farewell before turning towards Netherfield Park.

Elizabeth watched him until he disappeared from view, then continued on her way to Longbourn.

Darcy

She was magnificent. Elizabeth’s impassioned defense of Miss Lucas revealed much about her character.

She possessed not only charm and wit, but also loyalty and compassion—qualities Darcy valued above all others.

She was, in his estimation, near to perfection, and he feared it was only a matter of time before his heart was lost completely.

She embodied everything he desired in a wife.

His reason cautioned him against such intensity after so brief an acquaintance, but his heart was already decided.

Will she have me? he wondered. Would she ever accept someone like me? He knew his worth—at least, in substance if not in form—and hoped she might come to see it as well. As I see hers .

The ride back to Netherfield passed swiftly, and before long he was dismounting before the stables. Handing his reins to a waiting groom, he instructed amiably, “See him properly cooled, rubbed down, and given a measure of oats.”

The lad nodded and led the horse away. Darcy pulled off his gloves as he ascended the rear steps to the house.

This entrance led to a modest antechamber where boots and coats could be shed and one might rid oneself of the mud and chill of the outdoors before entering the main part of the house.

He took a moment to brush the worst of the debris from his greatcoat before proceeding to his chambers.

The rest of the household still lay abed, and he knew from past experience that breakfast would not be served before ten. He would dine in his sitting room; he was already ravenous and disinclined to wait.

His valet, Brisby, met him inside his chambers. “A bath has been drawn, sir, and your breakfast tray will be up directly.”

“Thank you.”

Brisby assisted him in undressing, and Darcy soon lowered himself into the steaming water.

He leaned back with a quiet sigh. The heat erased the chill from his limbs and washed away the scent of horse and leather.

A soothing fragrance rose from the water—some oil Brisby had added to ease the ache in his muscles.

Darcy soaked until the warmth faded, then emerged, dried, and dressed in fresh clothing.

As he enjoyed his breakfast, his thoughts returned to Elizabeth. I must woo her. A lady of sense and spirit deserves more than presumption . It would be foolish to assume that, simply because he was wealthy, she would welcome his suit.

That is not what I want, in any case, he reminded himself. A lady worth having must love me for myself. Pemberley and all I possess ought only to be an added benefit. Already, she had passed one important test—Elizabeth had admitted she did not find him handsome.

Intent upon pursuing the matter fully, Darcy began to outline in his mind how best to proceed. They were often in company; perhaps calling at Longbourn with Bingley would be a suitable first step. Mr. Bennet invited me, he reasoned. I may as well make use of the invitation.

Satisfied with his intended course, Darcy finished his breakfast and turned to his correspondence.

A letter from his steward required immediate attention—after all, the work of an estate holder was never truly at an end.

And when that is finished, I shall write to Georgiana.

He longed to be easy with his sister again.

Perhaps if I tell her about Elizabeth, she will be more inclined to respond. What lady can resist a little romance?