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“No—I decided this room was more suitable, which is why the servant believed it was unoccupied. I usually occupy an apartment on the same corridor as the mistress’s apartment when I spend the night here.

“Only, last night I dared not chance my sister discovering me in such a wretched state, especially in the wake of her happy news.”

“There, you see. It was destiny that drew you to this particular room last night,” Darcy said.

She smiled in acknowledgment of the veracity of his declaration.

No doubt, she silently considered.

“You must stay here, sir. The servant will surely inform Charles that he escorted you to this apartment. As for my own situation, there is no cause for concern. You see, I am very fond of early morning walks. No one will be surprised that I am up and about at this hour as opposed to being in my usual apartment.”

Guiding her around to face him, he lifted her chin and kissed her lips. At length, he said, “Until we meet again — properly.”

Chapter 8

Darcy stared out the window, seemingly admiring the picturesque country landscape, but in truth, reflecting upon his incredible nocturnal activities. He could not help it. He had sought in vain to push the sweet memories of having spent the night in utter bliss from his head completely else he would not be able to rise from his seat when or if his beguiling secret lover finally entered the room.

With that thought in mind, he gave a quick glance at the young lady who sat opposite him at the breakfast table—his friend’s younger sister, Miss Caroline Bingley.

Sipping his steamy, hot coffee, Darcy silently questioned her presence at Netherfield. Knowing his friend’s aversion to his sister’s company, Bingley had promised in his last letter that Miss Bingley would be in town for the duration of Darcy’s visit.

Educated in one of the first private seminaries in town and always in keeping with all that was fashionable among their society, Miss Bingley made no pretense of her desire to garner Darcy’s affections. Women of her ilk—those who were always speaking and looking and thinking for a gentleman’s approbation alone, might well have been invisible so far as Darcy was concerned. Darcy was thankful that at least Bingley’s elder sister and her husband, a Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, were not at Netherfield.

Miss Bingley will not be nearly so unpleasant in the absence of her sister to encourage all of her worse instincts. The very thought of Miss Bingley and her annoying antics sufficiently doused his ardor.

For the next quarter hour or so, Darcy kept his eyes trained on the door. Miss Bingley was doing her best to garner his attention but to no avail. Patience and reserve turned increasingly into impatience and anticipation. Darcy needed ‘her’ to walk through the door.

My dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth.

The wait was driving him to distraction. Disturbance soon gave way to clarity.

What we shared could not possibly have been a dream.

The evidence of her past innocence had been there for him to see. Had he not directed his man to attend the room himself, thus eschewing the household servant’s morning duties?

The thought that Elizabeth may have returned to her home crossed his mind. He would surely regret it were that the case. Their night together had been the spark to pique his interest, and now he wanted to satisfy his curiosity to know everything about her. He wanted to look upon her face during the day, take long walks with her about the countryside, and spend leisurely hours talking to her.

To see her and to gaze into her amazing eyes and hear her speak the word they had promised between them so that he would know with certitude that the night spent making love to her was not merely a product of an overeager imagination fueled by lust and compounded by loneliness.

If it were but a dream, I shall still cherish the memory of it all for a long, long time to come—perhaps forever.

While Darcy daydreamed, and Miss Bingley cooed, Charles Bingley talked enthusiastically about his friend’s safe arrival and all the plans he had made for Darcy’s amusement.

“My dearest Jane remains upstairs, but you shall meet her in due time.”

“I look forward to making your wife’s acquaintance. No doubt she is lovely.”

Darcy could well imagine just how lovely Mrs. Jane Bingley must be. That his friend had arrived in Hertfordshire a year or so earlier at Michaelmas and taken a wife a few short months later had met with his heartiest disapprobation, but what was done was done. Perhaps had he not been away at Scotland for so long as he had been, he might have prevented his friend from behaving so unadvisedly, Darcy had often considered since his recent return to England.

He recalled what he had said to Elizabeth about destiny and fate. Everything happens for a reason.

“She is lovely indeed. She is an—” Darcy heard his friend say.

“—an angel,” cried Miss Bingley derisively.

“My Jane is beyond compare the most kind-hearted, most compassionate woman you will ever meet,” Bingley declared. “So much so that she does not object in the least bit to my sister’s frequent visits.”

Miss Bingley scoffed. “I suppose that depends upon which sister to whom you are referring.”