Chapter I

 

This Extraordinary Application

 

Winter, a season of desolation and dormancy, where blasted landscapes filled the eyes, a world deep in slumber, waiting for the arrival of change and new life. Few enjoyed the bitter season where winds swept across drear lands, often bearing illness in their wake, keeping children inside, staring out windows, longing for better times and warmer climes.

What was worse was when the chill of winter set into the heart.

Darcy watched as Miss Elizabeth Bennet stepped from the room. He hoped she was not stepping out of his life forever, for he felt as if his heart was being wrenched from his breast. It was unfathomable what had happened that evening, a farce rather than a sequence of events. How matters had spiraled out of control with such rapidity was beyond Darcy’s ability to fathom, the repercussions of which would make themselves known before long. Whatever else happened, Darcy determined that he would take Miss Elizabeth away from this place. It was particularly galling that Miss Bingley, of all people, had proven correct in her estimation of these people who called Miss Elizabeth one of them—not for the reasons she had proclaimed these past months, of course, but they were unworthy, nonetheless.

“Good riddance.”

The muttered words captured Darcy’s attention and fury swept over his mind. Turning in a fashion deliberate and measured, Darcy glared at the author of the comment—not Miss Bingley, though it was astonishing she had not said it. Mr. Goulding, a man to whom Darcy had been introduced, yet knew but little, paled at Darcy’s bludgeoning regard, then assumed a haughty expression of disdain. The gathered crowd looked on as if in breathless anticipation of what would happen next.

“Do you wish to repeat that, Mr. Goulding?”

The man huffed his disdain. “It would be better for the neighborhood if you would depart as well. If your influence were removed from Miss Elizabeth, I might allow my daughter to associate with her again.”

“Must we listen to this drivel?” demanded Lord Matlock, his disdainful gaze raking over Mr. Goulding and then the rest of the company. “If you wish us gone, then we shall depart and not look back. The opinions of such a company as this have no meaning.”

“Before you say anything further,” said Darcy, ignoring his uncle, “you should know that any further attempt to question my character or that of Miss Elizabeth Bennet will provoke me to call you out.”

The collective gasp of the company informed Darcy how surprising his declaration was. Darcy used the silence it generated to his advantage.

“I do not know who has taken such a dislike to me and mine into their heads, but I would think you would all know better than to accuse Miss Elizabeth of such behavior. Everything your witless gossips has said about us both is no less than the grossest falsehood; I challenge any man to prove otherwise.”

When no one spoke up, Bingley stepped forward to stand at Darcy’s side. “And I add my voice to my friend’s. Darcy is the most upright man I have ever known. If anyone believes differently, you may leave my house at once.”

Goulding, it seemed, had taken it into his head to be the advocate for the company. “It is not even your house. You are nothing more than the scion of a line of tradesmen. Do you not know how long my family has held Haye Park?”

“Since the time of William the Conqueror?” asked Darcy, his quiet question all the more forceful because he had not trumpeted it from the housetops. “If you wish to speak of lineages, by all means, Mr. Goulding. I will tell you that my friend has more nobility than anyone here, given the behavior to which I have been a witness.”

“That is enough, Goulding,” said Sir William Lucas, an expression of gravity incongruous on his usually cheery face.

“You should all be ashamed,” continued Sir William, his gaze raking over the company. “I cannot believe you would all speak such things about Miss Elizabeth, a girl of whom nothing improper has ever been said.”

Several of those facing them appeared abashed, though Darcy noted many appeared to be wallowing in their self-righteousness. Darcy could hardly wait until he took Miss Elizabeth from this neighborhood. They would return to see her family, but if they never graced these people with their company again, it would be too soon.

“It is clear you have all ruined the evening,” said Bingley, his friend’s glare as disdainful as Darcy had ever seen. “Though it grieves me to learn that your welcome for us was superficial, certain members of the company have been eager to abuse my hospitality. I take your accusations toward my dearest friend as if you leveled at me.”

“And I cannot blame you, Mr. Bingley,” said Sir William, appearing sorrowful. “As such, I believe it would be best for us all to return to our homes. Those among us who consider our behavior tonight with a critical eye must honestly confess we have behaved abominably.”

The thrust of Sir William’s words was palpable, and Goulding seemed to understand them immediately. With a glare for the neighborhood’s unofficial leader, he gathered his family together and stormed from the room. This began a general exodus, amid much whispering, argument, and even open gesticulating as they left the room. Darcy paid them no further heed, disgusted with their behavior as he was.

 

“How wonderful it is to have one’s house to oneself again.”

The smugness in Miss Bingley’s tone set Darcy to grinding his teeth to avoid snapping at the woman, as objectionable as any he had ever met. Lord Matlock was not so circumspect, incensed as he was by the events of the evening.

“I apologize for continuing to impose, Miss Bingley, but we shall be gone at first light. Though our acquaintance has been short, I hope you will excuse me if I hope it remains short and is not renewed.”

Ignoring Miss Bingley’s gasp and stuttered protestations, Lord Matlock turned to Darcy. “I hope, Nephew, there is now no question of offering for your little miss.”

“Finally, someone who thinks as I do!” cried Miss Bingley. “Listen to your uncle, Mr. Darcy!”

Lord Matlock’s gaze bore down on Miss Bingley and he snapped: “I shall say it again, Miss Bingley—you are rather presumptuous for the daughter of a tradesman. Though speaking in so explicit a manner grieves me, even if my nephew did favor you, you could never be a consideration.”

Though the woman wilted before Lord Matlock’s contempt, she looked to Darcy, as if expecting he would take her part. Ignoring her in favor of his uncle, Darcy considered the best way to make a response. The sight of Lady Catherine standing close to his uncle, her expression suggesting caution, decided Darcy’s course of action.

“It would be best if we did not speak angry words now, Uncle. Perhaps it would be best to retire and address the subject again in the morning.”

For a moment, Lord Matlock eyed him, judging whether he could work on Darcy further. It was fortunate for them all that he came to the correct decision.

“Very well. But I shall expect to see you before breakfast, Darcy. If you mean to further pursue her, you had best have a damn good reason for it.”

Then the earl nodded, ignoring the Bingleys and Hursts completely, and beckoned his wife to follow him from the room. Lady Susan directed a glance skyward and shook her head, though she gave Darcy a look of encouragement. Lady Catherine also rose, but she did not follow her relations at once, instead choosing to approach Darcy.

“That was well done, Nephew.” The lady turned to Bingley and said: “You have been an excellent host to us, Mr. Bingley. I offer my regrets for what we have said this evening to you and yours.”

“Thank you, Lady Catherine,” said Bingley. “I do not cast any blame, for I understand how difficult the evening has been.”

Lady Catherine nodded and spoke to Darcy again. “I shall see you in the morning. Perhaps together we can blunt my brother’s displeasure.”

When Lady Catherine had left the room, Darcy turned back to his friend. Before he could even form the words to say, Miss Bingley huffed and glared at the door through which his relations had just departed.

“Now you must see we cannot stay, Charles. There is no question of pursuing Miss Bennet now. When we are ensconced in our house in town and have removed the dust of this insignificant place from our boots, we will feel much better.”

“Perhaps you are correct in the first,” replied Bingley, “but you should know that I have not reconsidered Miss Bennet. I shall have to speak to Mr. Bennet and decide how it is best to proceed.”

“Are you both bereft of wits?” demanded Miss Bingley. “Can nothing convince you of the baseness of these people?”

“Be silent, Caroline!” spat Bingley.

“Miss Bingley,” said Darcy, as Miss Bingley drew breath to retort. “I will accept no further comments on the matter of my personal affairs. Though my reasons and wishes may appear insufficient to you, I find I am unmoved by your opinion. So you cannot misunderstand, I shall inform you that I shall never offer for you, not if you were the last woman in the world. Please desist or you shall force me to declaim all acquaintance with you.”

In the time it took Darcy to turn to his friend, bid him goodnight, and leave, Miss Bingley’s countenance changed from shocked to infuriated to calculated. This was a dangerous woman; she was capable of anything.

 

“Miss Bingley! What is the meaning of this!”

Situated where he was by the glowing embers of the fire in his bedchamber, Darcy noted the expression of utter stupefaction stealing over Miss Bingley’s face. Snell, who had spoken the words the moment the shadow of the woman had become visible in the silently opening door, stood before her, blocking any path to Darcy. Just perceptible to Darcy’s eyes in the gloom was the outline of the key sticking out from the keyhole in the door, the key Miss Bingley had liberated from the housekeeper’s office.

“I am waiting, Miss Bingley,” came the disdainful voice of Snell once again. “And before you suggest that Mr. Darcy requested your presence for an assignation, know your brother is aware of your intention.”

“So I am,” said Bingley, stepping behind his sister, looking down on her with every ounce of his contempt. Miss Bingley jumped in response to his voice, cringing away from him as if to hide from his merciless eyes. The way she drew her robe around her suggested she suddenly felt exposed in her thin nightgown, chosen to engineer a compromise.

“Sit down, Caroline,” said Bingley, grasping his sister’s arm and leading her to a chair near the door, ignoring her indignant squawks. “It seems we must discuss what to do with you and determine our next steps.”

Bingley turned to Darcy after seeing his sister to her chair, and nodded, grim purpose clear in his look. “It seems you were correct, Darcy. Though I might never have suspected my sister to be capable of such things, I cannot refute what has happened.”

“Charles—”

“Be silent, Caroline!” hissed Bingley, looming over his sister in his rage. “I shall not allow you to impose upon my friend.”

“What is all this noise?” asked a voice, and several silhouettes appeared in the open door.

Bingley grimaced, but he did not conceal the unhappy truth, though he knew how these newcomers would react to the current situation. Instead, he turned to Snell, who still hovered, having set himself between Darcy and Miss Bingley as an obvious intention to prevent anything she might attempt.

“If you would be so good as to light some candles, I believe we may need them.”

Though he hesitated, Snell did as he was bid. By the increasing light of the few candles he lit, though it was still dim, Darcy could see by the grim countenance of his uncle—and Lady Catherine and Lady Susan standing with him—that his uncle understood the significance of what he was seeing.

“So, I see I was correct in suspecting your sister, sir,” said Lord Matlock, his hard gaze roving from Miss Bingley to her brother. “Is this how you manage your house?”

“Miss Bingley is an adult and capable of making her own choices,” interjected Darcy. “I do not blame Bingley for his sister’s actions.”

While Bingley directed a grateful look in Darcy’s direction, Lord Matlock appeared unmoved. Darcy thought he might speak, but he shook his head and left the room, his wife in tow. Lady Catherine stayed a moment longer and addressed Miss Bingley.

“There are many people in the world who consider themselves better than others, some for their wealth, some for their position in society, others for many more reasons. I and members of my family have been guilty of this very behavior at certain times. But I consider those who attempt to take away the choices of others beyond despicable; to force people to bend your will is the grossest form of manipulation. Know this, Miss Bingley—should you escape your actions tonight untarnished you will never be anything in society. I shall make certain of it.”

“Miss Bingley never stood a chance,” said Darcy, watching as the woman’s eyes whipped around to meet his. “Even had she succeeded in entering my bed and had the entire town of Meryton in this room to witness it, I would have refused to marry her. It would have profited her nothing.”

“Yes, Darcy,” said Lady Catherine, her tone brimming with amusement. “I, of all people, understand your stubborn nature. I shall retire now, for we shall have an early morning tomorrow, replete with scenes which will do none of us credit.”

The lady turned and departed, after which Bingley spoke to his sister. “On second thought, I believe it would be best to remove you from Darcy’s room, Caroline. I do not wish to impose upon him while I decide what to do with you.”

 

“The Hursts have offered to take her to the north,” said Bingley the following morning when they had gathered as planned. “I pledge she will trouble you no further.”

Darcy, to whom Bingley had addressed his statement, watched his friend, noting Bingley’s firmness of purpose, something Bingley had not always possessed. Knowing what it would mean for Miss Bingley, he nodded, signaling his acceptance of Bingley’s assurances. Likely the Hursts wished to be away from the situation, and this was their means of making their escape. Darcy could not blame them.

“Then let us discuss it no further,” said Darcy.

Fixing him with an expression of gratitude, Bingley turned to the others in the room and said: “Please use this room as you see fit for your discussion. I apologize I cannot host you any longer, as my sisters will both depart. But I hope you do not look on the measures I have taken to make amends for last night with disfavor.”

Without waiting for a response, Bingley bowed again and left the room, leaving Darcy with his relations. Lord Matlock did not wait to make his case.

“It is time, Darcy. Come away from this place and I shall introduce you to several acceptable young ladies who will suit your needs in a wife.”

“They will not be acceptable to me,” replied Darcy, keeping his countenance and his tone even.

“Understand me, Darcy,” insisted the earl. “I am hereby withdrawing all support for your pursuit of this unsuitable girl. Furthermore, I suggest you give up your acquaintance with Mr. Bingley and his family. They will do nothing more than drag you down in society.”

“I understand your meaning, Uncle,” replied Darcy. “In return, you must understand I do not require your support. I am a Darcy, not a Fitzwilliam, and while you are my mother’s brother and I respect you, I am not beholden to you. I shall act as I see fit whether or not I have your support.”

“You would ruin your very family name?” spat Lord Matlock. “Good heavens, Darcy—what must I do to convince you?

“No, do not answer that,” continued the earl. Darcy knew his uncle must have seen the set to his jaw and understood there was little he could do. “Then let me be rightly understood: if your pursuit of this woman and your friendships redound on this family’s reputation, I shall hold you responsible.”

“Come, Susan, Catherine,” said he, turning to the ladies. “We will depart within the hour.”

“Susan may go with you,” said Lady Catherine, “but for myself, I shall stay.”

“Stay?” demanded the earl. “How do you mean to do that? The Hursts shall soon leave with the detestable Miss Bingley. Do you mean to stay with two bachelors?”

“I doubt either Darcy or Mr. Bingley will remain long,” replied Lady Catherine, unaffected by his show of displeasure. “Regardless, I can manage my own affairs.”

“You do not even have a carriage. We traveled to this forsaken place in mine.”

“Darcy will not mind if I travel with him.”

Lord Matlock threw his hands up in surrender. “Then do as you like. Perhaps you can talk some sense into him where I have failed.”

Then the earl turned and stormed from the room. Though Darcy might have thought Lady Susan would follow him at once, she turned and nodded at Darcy, gave Lady Catherine a significant look, before departing herself.

“Now, Darcy,” said Lady Catherine. “I suspect you mean to visit Longbourn this morning. Let us go as soon as Hugh has departed, for I am eager to see your young lady again myself.”

Though Darcy was uncertain what her ladyship meant to do, he agreed without hesitation.

 

“What do you think of all this, Susan?”

Her sister looked up from where she had been supervising the disposition of the last of her effects. Catherine knew what Susan thought in a general sense, for they had spoken of it enough. The question, however, was whether she would support what Catherine meant to do.

“As we have all observed many times,” said Susan, “there is little the matter with Miss Elizabeth other than her situation. However, to go against my husband would cause an uproar in his current state—I hope you understand this.”

“I do,” replied Catherine. “But I am not asking you to do so. At present, I am the one in a position to take action, and I mean to do it, for Darcy and I shall go to Longbourn after you depart. The question is, will you support Miss Elizabeth in society when she becomes Darcy’s wife?”

Susan did not miss the emphasis of Catherine’s words, exactly as she had intended. When Susan responded, she gave her opinion with great care.

“At that point, there will be no reason for Hugh to continue to protest. Though he may hold himself aloof from Miss Elizabeth—and will certainly do so with her family—he will not wish her to reflect badly on us. A little support from you and I will help her gain her footing in town, and her wit and character will do the rest.”

“That is what I think,” said Catherine with a nod. “As Darcy means to have her regardless of what any of us say, there is little choice but to support him, though Hugh means to be pig-headed about it.”

Susan directed a long look at her. “Is that the only reason you will support her?”

“No,” replied Catherine. “In truth, I find I like the girl, for her indomitable will reminds me of myself.”

A laugh was Susan’s response. “No one could be that confident.”

“She is less open about it, but she possesses the confidence, nonetheless.”

“Then I shall wait to hear from you. Please keep me informed.”

“I shall. Thank you, Susan.”

 

“I had some thought of denying you access, Mr. Darcy.”

Though Mr. Collins appeared aghast at the very notion of banishing a man of Mr. Darcy’s standing from Longbourn—to say nothing of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh—Elizabeth was not surprised to hear it. Mr. Bennet could be a private man, one who held his cards close to his vest, but Elizabeth knew him like she knew no other man. In his anger after their departure the previous evening, she knew the need to protect her was foremost in his mind.

“If you forbid us,” said Elizabeth, “I shall simply wait until July and do as I wish.”

Mr. Darcy looked on her with love, though Lady Catherine’s look was all appraisal. “You become one and twenty then?”

“July third is my birthday,” replied Elizabeth.

With a nod, Lady Catherine turned back to her father, who was looking at his daughter with amusement, not to mention a hint of pride. “That is the reason I did not forbid them entrance; I knew how you would react, Lizzy.

“I also trust your judgment, and my own judgment about Mr. Darcy tells me that he is a good man. Since I know your feelings, I would not wish to make you unhappy by keeping you away from him. The question is, what do we do now?”

“I have a thought about that, Mr. Bennet,” said Lady Catherine.

“Of course, your ladyship is the wisest, most thoughtful woman in all the land. It comes as no surprise that you would—”

There was no telling how long Mr. Collins might have continued in such a manner had they allowed him, so Elizabeth was grateful when Lady Catherine directed a pointed glare at him, halting him in mid-praise. Mr. Collins, Elizabeth noted, was behaving unusually, even for the parson. He had said much of the neighborhood and his disgust with his future neighbors, though he had not been eager to agree to Mr. Bennet’s suggestion that morning.

“If you cannot abide the thought of living in proximity to those you deem so unworthy,” Mr. Bennet had said about the sixth or seventh time Mr. Collins had lamented on the subject that morning, “perhaps we should end the entail. That would relieve you of any future obligation, allowing you to stay and retain Lady Catherine’s wise counsel for the rest of your life.”

“Well . . . Cousin . . .” Mr. Collins had stammered, pulling out a handkerchief and mopping his brow. “What I mean to say is . . . Well, there is no need to be hasty, is there? Perhaps the children of these people will be better able to control themselves, for it will still be many years, God willing, before I must endure them.”

“Agreed, Mr. Collins,” said Mr. Bennet, not without irony. “I rather thought you might see sense.”

Since that moment, Mr. Collins had been silent, considering some matter at great length. Though Elizabeth could not determine the content of his thoughts, she decided there was no reason to concern herself with it.

“Then what do you suggest?” said Mr. Bennet, drawing Elizabeth back from her thoughts.

“It is my thought that Miss Elizabeth would benefit from achieving distance from the recent events. Therefore, I would like to invite her to visit Rosings Park. With her departure Darcy will not stay, relieving the pressure on your family. I also suspect Mr. Bingley means to leave Netherfield behind, removing the last link to the debacle.”

“Oh, that is generous, your ladyship,” interjected Mrs. Bennet.

Lady Catherine inclined her head and turned back to Elizabeth, raising an eyebrow.

“That is generous, Lady Catherine,” said Elizabeth. “It has never been my practice to run from trouble . . . .”

“And that is to your credit,” said Lady Catherine. “But your presence here will prolong the gossip and be uncomfortable for you. At Rosings, you can recuperate from your recent trials. In addition to these benefits, you can also continue your courtship away from this environment that has become so difficult.”

“I believe Lady Catherine is correct, Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet. “What I do not understand is why you are offering your assistance. Am I correct in my assumption that your brother does not favor your nephew’s continuing interest in my daughter?”

Lady Catherine’s expression soured, but she did not deny it. “He does not. But before you ask, I am not in the habit of allowing my brother to dictate my actions, earl or no.”

“I should never have dreamed of suggesting it,” murmured Mr. Bennet.

“Then you will understand that my interest in this matter is for my nephew,” replied Lady Catherine, “though I will also own that your daughter intrigues me. Darcy has declared himself unwilling to do without her and knowing my nephew, he will not change his mind. And I have genuinely grown fond of Miss Elizabeth.”

Mr. Bennet nodded. “And I thank you for it. I have no objection, should Elizabeth wish to go.”

Though Elizabeth hesitated, she knew it was for the best that she accepted. Consequently, she nodded, prompting a smile from her ladyship. “When shall we depart?”

“At once, if you agree,” said Lady Catherine, provoking a surprised gasp from Elizabeth. “As Miss Bingley and the Hursts have departed from Netherfield, I cannot stay. If you are agreeable, we shall go to Netherfield and ensure our effects are ready before we return to retrieve you.”

“But to leave my family with so little notice . . . .”

“Lizzy,” said her mother, “I believe this is for the best. The sooner you depart, the sooner you can regain your peace of mind.”

“I agree, Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet.

“Then I shall agree to it,” said Elizabeth, though inside she was a churning mass of emotions.

“Mr. Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley, who had heretofore remained silent, “is there some way I can continue to call upon your eldest daughter? I fear I too must depart, but I should not like to give up Miss Bennet’s company.”

Jane blushed, though it appeared she was gratified to hear Mr. Bingley speak of his intentions in so open a manner. Though he was diverted by the sound of Mr. Bingley’s pained voice, Mr. Bennet had no objection.

“We could send her to our relations in London.” Mr. Bennet paused and turned to look at his wife. “In fact, perhaps it would be best if we joined the Gardiners for Christmas instead of the reverse.”

With only a slight pause, Mrs. Bennet agreed. “I shall write to Edward at once.”

Nodding, Mr. Bennet turned back to Mr. Bingley. “Is that acceptable, sir? Darcy here found calling on my brother’s house agreeable.”

A great beaming grin came over Mr. Bingley’s face. “That would be no trouble at all, sir.”

“Excellent,” said Mr. Bennet. “Then I believe we have a plan.”

“There is only one more point to consider,” said Lady Catherine, turning her attention to Mr. Collins. “As my nephew and your daughter are courting, it would not be proper for Darcy to stay at Rosings while he is in Kent. Mr. Collins, you will extend an invitation to Darcy to stay at the parsonage when he is in the country.”

More than one grin appeared at the lady’s casual imperiousness, though Mr. Collins was not at all unwilling.

“Of course, your ladyship,” said Mr. Collins, apparently unable to determine to whom he should bow, for he directed several at both his patroness and Mr. Darcy. “It would be my honor to host your nephew, for who could object to such a noble man? I am certain I have much I can learn from Mr. Darcy.”

Elizabeth was uncertain of the parson’s surety, but her relief that there would be an avenue to continue to be in Mr. Darcy’s company outweighed her annoyance with the parson by a large margin.

 

While the ensuing weeks were better than the previous ones, there were still annoyances to Darcy’s way of thinking. Soon Miss Elizabeth had arrived in Kent, settling in with his aunt and cousin, and in time, Darcy thought affection sprang up between them. December came and went, and with it the Christmas season, and while the Bennets visited their relations in London as they had planned, Miss Elizabeth opted to stay in Kent with the de Bourghs. It took no great measure of insight to determine where Darcy spent his Christmas.

The earl continued to be a thorn in Darcy’s side, complaining about Lady Catherine’s attention to Elizabeth, Darcy’s intractability, and anything else that crossed his mind. Though Fitzwilliam found the matter amusing, Darcy chose the simple expediency of avoiding his uncle wherever possible.

“It is that or say something I shall regret,” said Darcy to his cousin on one occasion when they were together at Darcy’s house.

“And I agree with you,” said Fitzwilliam. “For my part, he has grown so insufferable that I find it difficult to tolerate him myself.”

Bingley, it seemed, was encountering as much difficulty as Darcy was himself. His courtship with Miss Bennet was proceeding well, but on the home front, matters were still vexing, for he was not completely free of his sister. After their departure from Netherfield, Miss Bingley had convinced the Hursts to go south rather than north and had refused to be moved from the Hursts’ house once she had gone there. Hurst, whatever his other weaknesses consisted, was not a man to order a young woman who was not even of his blood, though Darcy knew he had wished to send Miss Bingley to a convent within days of their arriving there.

Unwilling to be in his sister’s company, Bingley had taken rooms at a hotel, intent upon living there until he could rid himself of his sister’s company. When Bingley finally told him of Miss Bingley’s departure, Darcy found himself cheered, for he had wondered if, indeed, his friend would take a stand and bend his sister to his will. This news of marrying her off to some man in York was doubly welcome.

Time passed, the Christmas season gave way to the new year, and Darcy found himself, as his friend had observed, beating a path between London and Kent. The day after he spoke to his friend, he departed for Rosings, hoping his residence this time would be of some duration.

When the carriage ground to a halt in front of Rosings’ front entrance, Darcy bounded into the house, instructing his man over his shoulder to take his effects to the parsonage, and set off in search of Miss Bennet. A quick glance out the window informed him she was walking in the gardens, the sight of her extremely welcome after their parting. With purpose in his step, Darcy strode from the house in search of his destiny.