Page 16 of Courting Elizabeth

He remained near the door, upright, silent, but the wait had whitened his knuckles.

“My daughter confirms her consent,” said my father. “I grant you mine.”

Relief crossed Mr Darcy’s face with a force that made him almost unrecognizable.

“I thank you, sir.”

“Do not thank me yet. Elizabeth is the liveliest of my daughters and perhaps the most imprudent when she believes she is acting reasonably. If you make her unhappy, I will find the journey to Derbyshire much less painful than you imagine.”

“I will never take her happiness lightly.”

My father inclined his head.

Mr Darcy turned toward me.

He did not touch me. He did not speak my name. Yet his gaze made me feel alone with him in the middle of the library.

“May I announce our engagement to your family?”

I thought of my mother behind the door, probably with her ear pressed to the panel.

“It would be cruel to prolong her torment.”

We returned to the drawing room.

Mr Darcy had not finished the sentence asking my mother to consider our engagement official when she let out a cry.

This time, it was allowed.

“Ten thousand pounds a year!”

“Mama,” I murmured.

“Perhaps more! Oh, my dear Lizzy, my dearest child, I knew your spirit would eventually attract a man of consequence. Mr Darcy, you must forgive me for all the times I may have… well, I cannot recall any particular offense, but if there was one, you understand that a mother…”

Mr Darcy stood in the middle of the drawing room with admirable composure. Jane hid her smile behind her hand. Kitty looked back and forth between my fiancé and me, searching for the secret to such an enchantment. Lydia hid nothing.

“I thought you couldn’t stand him, Lizzy!”

“Lydia!” my mother exclaimed. “Everyone has always seen that Mr Darcy paid her the greatest attention.”

No one had seen anything, not even me.

A slight flush colored the tops of his cheekbones. In another man, I would have attributed it to embarrassment. In him, it could herald either flight or execution.

“How did you do it?” my mother asked, rushing toward me.

“I answered him when he spoke to me.”

“Don’t jest! A man like Mr Darcy does not ask for a young woman without fortune for mere conversation. You must have encouraged him.”

“I contradicted him for several months.”

“That’s what must be done, then,” Lydia declared. “I shall contradict Denny tomorrow.”

Mr Darcy turned toward me, his expression caught between amusement and panic.

“You warned me,” he murmured.