Page 108 of The Widower of Pemberley

“When you promptly declared that I was too pretty to dance with?” Elizabeth laughed.

“I was so filled with fear. I tried…I tried to…to not feel so much. It is still frightening.”

“I love you. I do love you dearly,” Elizabeth replied. “I have…I certainly liked to look at you and listen to you from the first time we spoke. I have been falling in love with you at least since I was trapped at Netherfield following that fall from my horse.”

Darcy laughed. “And to think, your mother’s scheme succeeded.”

“I never told you that it was a scheme.” Elizabeth giggled.

“A girl who hates to ride horses sent off across three miles of fields in the middle of a storm? She hoped you would fall from the horse.”

Elizabeth laughed again. “She hoped that Mr. Bingley would fall in love with me. She had no hopes foryou.” Elizabeth pulled herself up stiffly. “You must have a word with Mr. Bingley. I think he has made my sister fall in love with him, and he ought to speak to her much less.”

To Elizabeth’s surprise, Darcy laughed.

“I am quite serious. Just because Jane is blind, it does not mean that she does not have feelings or that they do not deserve the same consideration that would be given to any other woman.”

“Mr. Bingley spent twenty minutes speaking to me about nothing but the beauty of Jane’s face and figure this afternoon, before asking me for advice upon how best to propose to her.”

“What? He means to? But she is blind!”

“Now who judges your sister’s worth unfairly?” Darcy touched Elizabeth’s nose. “My dear, dear lovely wife, a woman such as your sister cannot fail to attract men if they are given the opportunity to know her well. From what Bingley said, he has only delayed so long as this out of a fear thatherfeelings might not be strong, but the past weeks without her presence have convinced him that he is miserable when she is not near, and he must risk asking.”

“And he asked you for advice on what to say to Jane?” Elizabeth asked, still all astonishment. But it did make perfect sense of their behaviour at the theatre.

“He considered me an expert on making proposals of marriage as I have done it twice. It fortunately took me little effort to convince him that I have no notion about how to do the task properly.”

Elizabeth giggled. “You did not tell him to confess all his faults, even those that he only imagines himself to have? After, ofcourse, asking whether she has already accepted a different man?”

“I suggested the use of words to make the proposal,” Darcy replied with a smile in his voice. “I thought that advice not likely to harm.”

“If he still wishes to consult someone upon the matter,” Elizabeth said, “you can suggest that he ask me.”

“What he hopes is that we shall be home to callers tomorrow.”

“Ah, a chance for a private interview. Clever man. I shall employ Emily to contrive a situation that requires us to leave the two of them alone for some time. She delights in being useful, and this is a task that she is particularly well suited for.”

“You recall,” Darcy said, “that she recently had designs upon a sack of flour. You might have a frazzled servant covered in the stuff run in to tell us that she has succeeded. I shall tomorrow morning, before Bingley arrives, explain the plan to Emily and Rose.”

“Precisely the thing!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Nothing could make Emily happier than being given such permission. This is why I love you!”

“And that you are always paying attention to ways to involve Emily in such endeavours is one of the many things that cause me to love you.”

“And what might be another of my admirable virtues?” Elizabeth asked in an arch tone.

Darcy kissed her sweetly. “Your lips are an important one.”

“If we went to bed,” Elizabeth said, when they parted from the kiss, “you might display some more of your loveable manly virtues.”

“Your wish is my command.” And he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The next morning when they all gathered for breakfast, Elizabeth noted an odd sensation in herself as she watched Jane sitting in her usual place at the table. She was still blind, still with some pockmarking around the face, but Elizabeth, for perhaps the first time, really saw what others proclaimed to see: her sister was yet again beautiful.

In contrast to her mother, she had alwayssaidthat Jane was still beautiful and had no need for shame. She had said that from the very first and had always insisted upon it.

Yet, Elizabeth could only now feel a little shame towards herself, though she was not sure whether it was for the dishonesty in insisting upon Jane’s continued loveliness, when deep down she agreed with her mother, or for failing to see the truth, which was that Janewaslovely despite the pox scars and blind eyes.