Page 78 of Elizabeth Bennet Says Yes to Mr. Darcy

“That last piece of information must remain confidential.”

“I shall employ it only for private purposes.”

I kissed her forehead.

“And I believed I was marrying a woman who would eventually love me if I showed enough patience. I did not understand that I would first have to learn to let her choose.”

She raised her head.

“We were very foolish.”

“You were less so than I.”

“Don’t be so generous that you become tedious.”

I smiled.

Pemberley, which had always been my duty, became a home with her.

And every time she spoke my name in the intimacy of our chamber or laughed in the middle of an overly solemn dinner, I understood the fortune contained in the word she had spoken twice.

Yes.

Chapter 23

Elizabeth

A month after our arrival at Pemberley, I hosted my first dinner as mistress of the house.

Mrs. Reynolds had prepared every detail with such competence that my presence was almost decorative. Yet I checked the place cards, the flowers, the menu, and the state of the silverware with feverish diligence. I had entertained enough neighbors at Longbourn to know a dinner could survive overcooked vegetables and mediocre conversation. At Pemberley, however, the slightest decision became a test of rank.

The guests came from the families nearest the estate. Several had known Fitzwilliam’s mother. Others had awaited his marriage with the curiosity my parentage, my fortune, and Lady Catherine’s intervention made inevitable.

“You’re going to wear out the carpet,” my husband observed, finding me in the dining room for the third time.

“It’s very durable.”

“So are you.”

“The carpet doesn’t have to wonder whether twenty people will compare its hospitality to your mother’s.”

His expression changed.

“No one has the right to impose that comparison on you.”

“Rights have never stopped people from forming opinions.”

He approached and took my hands.

“My mother knew Pemberley from childhood. You’ve been here four weeks. If anyone expects the same assurance from you, their judgment doesn’t merit your concern.”

“That’s an admirable consolation from a man who’s never been judged on his choice of soup.”

A smile crossed his lips.

“I’ll be judged on my choice of wife.”

“And if the dinner is bad?”