Page 29 of Honor Requires

“My sister is well. She is engaged in her studies, or so she claims. I believe she uses it as an excuse to stay at Mill House.”

Elizabeth grinned up at him impishly. “Does she dislike my company so much?”

Mr. Darcy laughed. “No, I believe she hopes she might secure your company permanently if she does nothing to interfere.”

“Ah, so she wishes for me to become her companion? Tell me, sir, will she have a household of her own in Town where I may join her?” Elizabeth loved how he smiled when she teased him.

“Minx. You know very well that I could not give you up to anyone else, least of all my sister. No, I am afraid Georgiana will have to live with us.”

She paused, and he stopped beside her. Neither spoke. The air between them shifted—no longer easy, no longer unguarded, but something deeper, more deliberate. Elizabeth faced him fully, warmth creeping into her cheeks as she regarded him solemnly.

“I have,” he said as he tenderly regarded her, “hoped that we might pursue this courtship to its natural conclusion. We have discussed the future as if we shall be together, but only in the vaguest of terms. What I feel for you… Dearest Elizabeth, if I had your father’s permission, we would be wed as soon as I could acquire a common license.”

Her heart felt near to bursting. “Nevertheless, I had no notion we had entered a formal courtship.” She smiled, pleased when he grinned again at her tease.

“Your uncle has granted his permission as temporary guardian, but no, nothing can be formalized until I speak with your father. But I wish you to know the desires of my heart.”

Elizabeth could not look away. The feelings he professed were written in his expression. “Oh,” she murmured. Her hand came up and cupped his cheek. The gesture surprised them both. Neither withdrew. “You are so very tall, sir.”

Darcy’s hand came up and covered her own. “Fitzwilliam,” he replied. “Please, call me Fitzwilliam, if only in private.”

“Fitzwilliam.” The name felt strange on her lips, but not in an uncomfortable or awkward way. “My feelings…they are very much aligned with your own. Never could I have imagined such…felicity.”

His hand brought hers down from where she had touched his cheek and he leaned in, gently kissing her before pulling away. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to that single point of contact. When he drew back, the absence of it was keenly felt. Elizabeth’s heart raced. She cared not who had seen, though a quick glance showed there was no one about to see their display of impropriety.

Carefully, Darcy wrapped her hand through his arm, and they resumed their stroll. Neither spoke of what had passed. But everything between them had altered. Mrs. Gardiner, who had accompanied them, was found on a bench around a bend in the path, far enough away that she had not seen or heard their interlude. Still, she cast a knowing glance at her niece, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm once more.

The conversation turned to Georgiana again, and Elizabeth expressed a desire to see her young friend.

“I shall press her to accompany me to tea on Thursday,” Darcy promised. “Mrs. Younge usually takes her half day that afternoon.”

“That would be most agreeable,” Aunt Gardiner said congenially. “I miss my conversations with your sister. Surely, she is not spending all her time on lessons. You are on holiday—that is meant to be enjoyed.”

“My sister is reserved by nature, but her recent desire to stay at Mill House is strange. I shall insist.” He leaned close to Elizabeth and whispered in her ear. “She ought to know her future sister better, anyhow.”

Darcy returned the ladies to their house and bid them farewell, promising to call again soon.

When they were alone in the parlor, Aunt Gardiner insisted Elizabeth tell her everything. “Your countenance was glowing, my dear. You cannot convince me Mr. Darcy did not propose.”

“He did not, Aunt, though he has expressed a desire to do so. No, he is too much a gentleman and insists on meeting and speaking to my father, first.” It irked Elizabeth, but she chose to respect Mr. Darcy’s wishes. “Mama would prefer I return engaged, but courting is a start.”

“In my sister’s eyes, that is as good as a proposal.” Aunt Gardiner beamed. “I am very happy for you, Lizzy. He is a wonderful gentleman.”

“He is perfect, dear aunt. I could not be more fortunate.”

The morning had dawned clear and deceptively bright, as though the world had conspired to disguise the unwelcome nature of the news he brought. Elizabeth had not expected him so early, nor with such gravity in his expression, and from the moment he was announced, she sensed something had shifted.

He entered the drawing room with his usual composure, though there was a tension about him—a restraint more pronounced than she had seen before. Mrs. Gardiner received him kindly, though Elizabeth observed the quick, searching glance her aunt cast between them.

“I regret that my call must be of a less agreeable nature than usual,” Mr. Darcy began, after the first civilities had passed. “I have received word from Kent—one of my smaller estates has suffered a fire.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught. “A fire?”

“A barn and several adjoining outbuildings,” he clarified. “The damage is contained, but the steward requires my immediate oversight. There must be a full accounting—repairs assessed, materials ordered, tenants reassured, and the structure secured before further loss occurs.”

His tone was calm, practical—but Elizabeth knew enough now to hear what lay beneath it.

Duty. Always duty. It was one of the things she admired about him.