“You didnotparticipate,” Darcy pointed out. “You arrived after everything was finished.”
“Yes,” Fitzwilliam said, piqued. “I am aware. There I was, prepared to charge into the house and save the princess. Quite spoiled my moment, Darcy.”
Elizabeth took a step towards Darcy. “Thank you for coming to find me even when you did not think I was anyone of importance,” she whispered.
“You are important to me,” Darcy replied, equally quiet.
Her smile lightened his guilt.
“Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet said evenly, “I believe I can take it from here. We shall return to the inn for the night and then travel back to London tomorrow.”
Darcy nodded and relinquished Elizabeth to her father’s care. “Is Adrian back in London?” he asked his cousin.
“Yes. We should carry on to town with your miscreants.”
Darcy nodded.
As Mr. Bennet held out Elizabeth’s pelisse and she slipped into it, Mr. Gardiner addressed the others in the room. “I think we can all agree not to speak of any improprieties observed during this unpleasant visit.”
Mr. Bennet handed Darcy a card. “You and I may need to speak further.”
Darcy fingered the card for a moment and tucked it away.
A few moments later, Fitzwilliam stood with Darcy as they watched Mr. Bennet’s carriage depart. “So,” he said conversationally, “you rescued a princess.”
“So it would seem.”
“Generally, in such stories, that ends rather significantly.”
“This is not a story.”
“No,” Fitzwilliam agreed cheerfully. “It is a terrible anticlimax. I was hoping for declarations of love and a quick marriage. Adrian is going to fall over when I tell him.”
Darcy sighed. “Please do not tell Adrian.”
“I am absolutely telling Adrian. And everyone else.” Fitzwilliam clapped him on the shoulder. “Come. We have prisoners to deliver and explanations to make.”
Darcy remained a moment longer, watching the carriage that held Elizabeth trundle down the approach and turn onto the lane. Much to hissurprise, he realised that a quick marriage to Elizabeth would have answered all his desires.
But she was a princess.
A real princess, granddaughter to a king.
And he? He was merely a gentleman. A wealthy one, certainly. An important one, perhaps. But he had no title, no rank that would make him remotely suitable for a woman of royal blood.
He had duties. Pemberley required his attention. Though he had an excellent steward, the estate did not run itself, and his tenants depended upon him for their livelihoods. Georgiana needed him, particularly now, when she was so fragile and uncertain. And who was he to ask Elizabeth to give up her birthright for his sake? A man who had doubted her at every turn, who had accused her of fraud, who had been too stubborn and proud to see the truth until it struck him in the face?
And yet, he was in love with her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Jane sent me a letter this morning,” Aunt Gardiner said. “She will be here tomorrow.”
“I long to see her.” Elizabeth sighed. “Though I confess I dread the questions.”
“Yes,” Papa said drolly, glancing up from his book, “Jane is a relentless inquisitor.”
The sound of the front door and Uncle Gardiner’s voice drew their attention. He appeared moments later, removing his gloves with satisfaction.