Page 8 of Requirements for Love (Love in London with Mr Darcy #3)

The following morning, Elizabeth woke early to more pain in her ankle.

She was loath to admit that the surgeon was right, that it was too soon for her to climb into a carriage.

She wrapped her ankle again tightly and, with a thought to what her aunt would wish for her to do, she rested it on a pillow and did not move.

For a few hours, she wrote letters to her friends, and then a brief note to Jane and her aunt. But then Elizabeth felt as though the walls of her room were creeping in.

She would go to the drawing room and await the others until breakfast. Miss Darcy or Mrs Annesley might be there already. Mr Darcy would certainly throw her a critical look when he discovered her, but she could make the short distance on her own.

Reaching her door without using her foot was simple, as her room was small and crowded with furniture.

Upon opening the door, she looked at the long distance from her door to the doors of the conjoined large and small drawing rooms. Perhaps this was not wise.

The railing of the staircase would only get her part of the way.

There was a commotion below, and Elizabeth hopped beyond her doorframe to look over the banister.

Footmen carried what looked like table legs while another servant and Mr Darcy followed with a large round table top.

He was at the bottom while the servant climbed backward, holding the other end of the top.

It struck Elizabeth that Mr Darcy was helping carry the table himself.

He surely had plenty of servants for the task, but he helped, and he did the most cumbersome task himself.

But what followed immediately was the realisation that Mr Darcy was in his shirtsleeves. Not only had he removed his coat, but he had rolled his sleeves to his elbows.

She felt a flush over her entire face as she watched his forearms with a steady gaze.

They absolutely captivated her. The muscles flexed slightly as he lifted the heavy tabletop.

What was it about them that made Mr Darcy seem even more confident and ambitious and capable?

Bare skin, a few veins, and well-defined muscles, and now she saw Mr Darcy in a very attractive light.

He was more generous than she had realised.

And he had always been handsome, but was now more so to her now that he had changed his stance on Bingley and her sister.

He was an attentive brother and had a dry sense of humour.

She now believed that, were it not for his callous treatment of Wickham, she should be in some danger.

He noticed her as he came up the stairs and looked over his shoulder at her as he finally broached the top stair and carefully turned the corner.

“Absolutely not, Miss Bennet,” he called as he passed. “I will carry you in a moment.”

He then entered the drawing room and, from what Elizabeth heard, worked with the others to set up the table.

While she was not about to swoon at the sight of bare forearms, she did lean heavily on the banister as she waited for him to come back.

The thought of Mr Darcy carrying her from room to room was no longer as unpleasant as it was yesterday.

He was soon at her side, still with his coat removed, and he offered to bring her into the small drawing room for breakfast. It should not feel so different to be carried by a handsome man with rolled-up shirtsleeves than it did to be carried by the same man with his coat on.

“And when we are done eating, I will also carry you into the other room,” he said when she was settled at the table. “That chaise by the fire is yours for the duration of your time here.”

Her eyes dropped to his forearms as he stretched his arms and shoulders after carrying the table. “Well,” she said, after a throat-clearing swallow, “if you can manage a table for four up the stairs, then I suspect you can carry me without undue strain.”

Mr Darcy smiled, making her heart turn over. “Your servant.”

Mrs Annesley and Miss Darcy then entered, and the servants with breakfast were not far behind. Mr Darcy went to where his coat rested on the instrument. While he rolled down his sleeves and put it on, Elizabeth thought of running her fingertips across his skin from wrist to elbow.

After the obligatory inquiries into her health were over, they enjoyed a companionable breakfast and then all settled into the larger drawing room.

Mrs Annesley stayed at the table to write letters, and Mr Darcy hovered near to where Elizabeth sat with Miss Darcy.

She was certain that he would have been gone for the day had she not been here, for he clearly felt like he must stay but did not know what to do with himself.

“Mr Darcy, unless you are afraid of some improper influence I will have over your sister, you may leave us,” she said archly.

He pushed himself off from the mantelpiece he had been leaning against. “I must dine out again tonight. I would be a poor host if I left you alone all day.”

“Do you not have friends to see? Should you not be fencing or gambling somewhere? Some amusement to be seen enjoying? Shopping to tend to?”

“Certainly. All of those. However, they need not be done now.”

“But what if the ladies have secrets to discuss?” she teased.

“I have no secrets from my brother,” Miss Darcy cried.

Elizabeth did not know what to say to this outburst. Miss Darcy looked mortified and Mr Darcy looked sad, but neither spoke.

Mr Darcy rested a hand on her shoulder as he passed behind her chair to sit a little apart from them. Miss Darcy now looked relieved, and Elizabeth could not understand what had passed between them. Mr Darcy did not explain, only took up a newspaper and hid himself from view.

“Well, Miss Darcy, what shall we do?” she asked cheerfully. “It is far too soon to force you to play for me, and far too soon for me to disappoint you by how poorly I play.”

“Whatever you wish.”

“That is the best thing for a hostess to say, of course, but you must not be afraid to assert yourself with your guests, you know. We crave management, and neither do we want to inconvenience our hostess.”

“I have little practice hosting,” she murmured.

“I am sure now that you have Mrs Annesley’s company, you will become quite comfortable being a hostess.”

“She is patient, and very helpful.”

When she said no more, Elizabeth asked, “Now that you have your own establishment, are you eager to host your friends?”

Miss Darcy looked uncomfortable that Elizabeth asked a question that required an answer. “Perhaps. No.”

Elizabeth pitied her. “I am sorry to hear that, and I am especially sorry my accident forced you into that role.”

She shrugged. “I am a little eager to have friends visit me. It is just that I never know what to say or do. It is so formal and awkward, and there is so much attention on me.”

Miss Darcy clearly proceeded from shyness and the fear of doing wrong. Elizabeth could see how her behaviour would give those who felt themselves inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved. Wickham had been entirely wrong about her.

“I promise you, Miss Darcy, all you need to do is be present in this house while I am here. I am perfectly safe under your brother’s care, but since we are both single, it gives an odd appearance for him to have me stay without a hostess. Ignore me as you please.”

Miss Darcy looked surprised. “Oh, I am glad to know you better.”

“Better?” she said, laughing a little. “Well, since we are perfect strangers, we will assuredly know one another better before long, and I am very glad for it. ”

“I do feel as though I know you a little. You were often mentioned in Fitzwilliam’s letters last autumn.”

This took her aback. “I am almost afraid to ask what he wrote. Did he mention I was not handsome enough to dance with?” she asked in an arch tone. Mr Darcy’s newspaper lowered slowly, and a horrified look diffused over his face.

“No,” Miss Darcy said in a shocked murmur. “He would never say such a thing about a lady.” Elizabeth watched Mr Darcy as she said this. His face was a ghastly shade. “In fact, he mentioned enjoying his dance with you at Mr Bingley’s ball.”

She had won her point over him, but it felt like a hollow victory. She did not dislike Mr Darcy as much as she did before, and now, seeing his mortified, sickly expression, she did not feel as satisfied as she thought she would.

“Miss Bennet,” he said in a hoarse voice, “the Meryton assembly… You heard a callous remark I should never have made. I am exceedingly sorry.”

She waved her hand, dismissing whatever else he was going to say while his sister stared at him in disbelief. He looked absolutely wretched. It spoke poorly of her to remember his rude remark all this time later. “It is all forgotten. Or, at least, it is now. I should never have mentioned it.”

“You are a handsome woman. I should have known that when I first saw you.”

She stared at him with what had to be a look of amazement, because that was certainly how she felt to hear him earnestly admit to such a thing.

Mr Darcy immediately returned to his newspaper, and Elizabeth wished for some equally large thing that she could hide her face behind.

She had never before had a man say such a thing to her, and his unaffected manner made it all the more appreciated.

If she was that moved by his praise, it was no wonder she was wounded by his previous neglect.

In the long silence that followed where Elizabeth could not raise her eyes to either Darcy, Miss Darcy asked, “Have you given any thought to my helping you find a husband? ”

“Certainly,” she answered, not knowing what she said. Surely that would be better than this awkwardness with Mr Darcy.

“Truly?” Miss Darcy cried. “It would be so romantic to introduce you to some gentlemen while you are here. We will find one perfectly suited to your character and interests.”