by Lory Lilian
She observed him to guess his feelings, his thoughts, and his intentions.
He spoke little but paid due attention to all the conversations and glanced from one to another, only resting for a short while upon Elizabeth. His eyes seemed to search for hers and to return to her every time he had a chance. Could she hope he was doing it on purpose? His warm countenance made her flush and made her oblivious to the others. She found herself foolishly smiling several times without knowing why and missing most of the discussion that happened around her.
To the Bennets’ surprise, Mr. Darcy appeared to be on friendly terms with the Gardiners, and their behaviour to each other was beyond that of mere acquaintance. Even the Gardiner children looked less intimidated by the severe gentleman than Kitty and Mary did.
Mr. Bennet was the first one to point that out with an interest rarely shown for anything besides his books. He addressed Mr. Gardiner decidedly.
“Brother, I was telling Mr. Darcy earlier…I am surprised that, despite the regular correspondence we shared in the last months, you forgot to mention that he visited you at Gracechurch Street several times.”
Elizabeth startled and looked at Darcy—who frowned. Mr. Gardiner swallowed some wine and took a few moments before he answered.
“I did not consider that detail of any urgent interest. It is true, however, that we have enjoyed Mr. Darcy’s visits on several occasions.”
“Indeed we have,” Mrs. Gardiner added. “Ever since Mr. Darcy was kind enough to invite us to Pemberley, we have tried to express our gratitude for his generosity. Visiting Pemberley had been my dream since I was a child and lived only five miles away. Truly there is no estate more beautiful or any house more worthy to be admired.”
“I thank you for your kind words, Mrs. Gardiner,” Darcy said. “I assure you that your presence at Pemberley was one of the most pleasant events of this summer, and I hope to repeat it sometime soon. I already invited Bingley and Miss Bennet to visit us once they are married. It would be my pleasure if you could join them. Of course, the invitation is addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet too…”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she seemed to lose her breath.
“Truly? Oh, that is very nice of you, sir—generous indeed! I could not possibly travel so far, but you are truly very kind! I am sure Pemberley is much more handsome than Rosings. Sir William barely speaks of anything but your aunt’s estate since he was in Kent! “
The memory of Kent troubled both Elizabeth and Darcy, and they glanced at each other at the same time, their eyes locking briefly. The distress was easier to bear since they shared it.
“Well, Lizzy can offer a fair opinion since she has visited both places,” Mrs. Gardiner declared.
Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured even more, and she averted her eyes from Darcy.
“Yes, yes I did…”
“And?” Mrs. Bennet inquired hastily.
“And…” Elizabeth breathed then glanced around and met Darcy’s look again.
She recalled meeting him, embarrassed and informally attired as he wandered the grounds of Pemberley—his awkward attempt to start a conversation with her, his kindness to her uncle and aunt—and those precious memories overcame any recollection of their terrible argument at the Parsonage, his arrogant offenses, the fight that tormented her for months afterwards…
Rosings now signified the recollection of that confession spoken with equal passion and severity that betrayed the battle between his heart and his mind, his desire and his duty, his senses and his judgement. “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you…”
Did those words still describe his feelings? Was his affection for her still ardent? Were his gentle, warm manners at Pemberley proof of this?
Now he was there, only steps away, looking at her, waiting for her opinion about his home. He looked different than she remembered him—different than Netherfield last autumn or Kent or even Pemberley. He had changed. The darkness in his eyes, his tentative smile, his countenance, even the way he held his shoulders, his long fingers gripping the glass—everything was different yet much the same. She could judge what he allowed her to see but not his feelings for her.
What could she say about Pemberley to do it justice? About his home?
“Rosings is impressive and elegant, and its grandeur is overwhelming. Pemberley is people and nature working together to reach perfection. Its beauty is breathtaking…”
Elizabeth spoke to her family, but she knew her words touched the right soul. She could feel his gaze caressing her face and his smile matching hers. She did not need to see what her heart already felt.
“My dear Lizzy, that is a perfect description of Pemberley,” Mrs. Gardiner agreed.
“I only spoke from my heart,” she replied, again looking from her aunt to Darcy. He understood and answered with a warmth that made her quiver.
“Of that, I am certain and I cannot thank you enough, Miss Elizabeth. Your opinion—always spoken from your heart and your mind—is therefore more worth the earning.”
His look was so intense that she felt lost within it. She knew it too well, as she had seen it—and felt it—in the past at Pemberley. It was the look that kept her awake so many nights. Deep and ardent.
Elizabeth heard people talking around her but her attention was still drawn to one person only. Finally, she recognised her mother’s voice, inviting everybody to dinner and walking close to Mr. Darcy, speaking to him. Elizabeth’s alarm increased together with her mother’s glibness.
“I must say, Mr. Darcy, you are kinder than I would have imagined. To invite us to Pemberley is astonishing. And you visit my brother in London? That is surely as important as Sir William’s introduction at St. James’s. By the way, have you been there, Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered obediently, following the lady of the house toward the dinner table.
“And did you ever attend a ball at Almack’s?”
“I have. Four or five times if I remember correctly.”
“Oh dear Lord, that is quite wonderful. I cannot believe how nicely you carry a conversation, sir. Indeed, since you are the friend of my future son, allow me to tell you that this amiability is very becoming. You look even more handsome. Did I tell you that?”
“No,” he replied seriously, glancing at Elizabeth one more time.
Elizabeth was flushed with equal embarrassment and amusement. He looked uneasy but not displeased. It was obvious that he made an effort to bear a rather uncomfortable conversation, but he did so diligently.
So lost was she in her thoughts, that she startled when her father took her arm, interrupting her musings.
“You know, Lizzy, I was enchanted to hear about Pemberley, but it seemed to be an attempt to change the subject and avoid telling me about Mr. Darcy’s calls to Gracechurch Street.”
She chose her words carefully while avoiding her father’s scrutiny.
“What is to tell, Papa? It seems Mr. Darcy and my uncle enjoy each other’s company. Is that so difficult to believe?”
“No, probably not. Well, Mr. Darcy seems to have changed his opinion exceedingly. He shows extraordinary patience in answering your mother’s questions and is in danger of becoming her favourite. And he seems to consider you tolerable enough to value your opinion.”
“Papa, do not make such jokes!” Elizabeth scolded her father in a low voice, frightened that Darcy might hear them.
He patted her arm with obvious amusement. “There, there, Lizzy, do not be so serious. We must find a reason to laugh among all these preparations for the ball and the wedding. They are a danger to my sanity.”
Elizabeth calmed herself after a few moments. She sat at the table between Jane and her aunt. Mr. Bingley was on Mr. Bennet’s right, while Mr. Darcy was placed between Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gar
diner.
As dinner was served and the conversation continued, Elizabeth saw her father glance at Darcy frequently. She knew her father well enough to understand that his suspicions were still unsatisfied, and he would not abandon his quest to find out more about the situation that raised his curiosity.
“Mr. Darcy, I understand we have you to thank for the ball,” Mrs. Bennet addressed their guest again. “I confess we were surprised, as we all know how much you dislike such parties.”
“Please be sure that you do not have to thank me for anything, ma’am. And it is not about my preferences. It is to Bingley’s merit that he planned a ball to celebrate his engagement and wedding. Any man who enters into marriage with such affection and happiness would do the same.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured as she felt his look upon her. Luckily, nobody gave her much attention as Mr. Bingley intervened cheerfully.
“On one thing, Darcy is right. I doubt there is a man happier to marry than I am.” Bingley smiled and kissed his betrothed’s hand, much to the company’s amusement.
Then he continued with great animation, emboldened by the wine he had enjoyed earlier, while Jane struggled to recover from the delightful embarrassment of such an open compliment.
“I must say, I am happy that Darcy came early. I am overwhelmed just thinking of the guests that will arrive in a couple of days; although, I suspect I shall have him to blame for the arrival of my cousins Celia and Julia. They have always entertained a secret hope of gaining Darcy’s interest. I suspect that is the reason they were never friendly with Caroline. I believe they are in a sort of competition for Darcy’s attention.”
Darcy stared at his friend in disbelief, paled, and then blushed. He took several swallows from his glass then looked at Elizabeth, who could not conceal her smile.
“Bingley, what on earth are you talking about?” he finally uttered.
“Come now, I was joking. You should not be embarrassed, as we are with family. But you know I am right.” Bingley laughed, though the others appeared reluctant to share his amusement.
“It is not the kind of joke to be made in the presence of ladies. Not to mention it is ridiculously untrue. I doubt anybody would come to Hertfordshire for any reason connected to me,” Darcy responded in a low, distressed voice.
“Oh, I beg to differ,” said Mrs. Bennet suddenly. Her interruption startled Darcy, who turned to her in apparent panic. Elizabeth could not decide whether she should laugh at his distressed expression or come to his rescue.
“It is expected that young ladies should try to be in the company of worthy gentlemen. How else can they find a proper husband? Nobody would deny that you are one of them, sir. You have an excellent situation in life, and it is commonly agreed that you are exceedingly handsome. Oh, do not throw me that kind of look, Lizzy. I am old enough to speak without being suspected of any preference.”
She stopped to breathe while Darcy listened to her in bewilderment.
“I mean no offence, Mr. Darcy, but you should dance more and soften your manners if you wish to find a wife. People might admire your appearance and your education, but more is required than pleasant features and a large income; a man must also possess an amiable nature. Otherwise, everybody will admire you, but nobody will consider you agreeable. Just take Mr. Bingley; you might be more handsome than him, but when you both arrived in Meryton, everybody liked him and disliked you.”
“Mama!” Elizabeth cried while Darcy’s eyes opened in disbelief.
“But then again,” Mrs. Bennet continued in earnest, “I might be wrong, as I am not acquainted with gentlemen of ten thousand a year. Since several ladies are willing to come to Hertfordshire for your company, you might not need amiability to secure a wife after all.”
“I…I am not certain what to say on this subject, Mrs. Bennet,” Darcy responded, slightly troubled by the conversation. He turned his full attention to his plate and cut his beef with exceeding care until Bingley intervened again.
“I have joked about the ladies’ reason, but the guests will arrive at least one day before the ball. This is very serious. I hope we can accommodate them comfortably enough.”
“Bingley, I truly cannot understand your worry,” Darcy said calmly, attempting to put his friend at ease. “Netherfield has an excellent staff and sufficient space. I am sure all the guests will be accommodated suitably. If necessary, the colonel and I can very well stay at the Meryton Inn.”
“Stay at the inn? Out of the question. Your presence is necessary; I need your advice on several subjects,” Bingley answered hastily.
Of course you do. Elizabeth smiled to herself, briefly wondering how Mr. Bingley would conduct his life once he married and his friend was not around. She met Darcy’s intrigued look, and she knew he had guessed her thoughts. Their eyes met, and their smiles matched.
“I am certain you will do just fine without my advice, Bingley,” Darcy responded, more to Elizabeth than to the gentleman.
“Yes, but you must stay at Netherfield regardless. The preparations for the ball, the wedding…all are distressing. I shall be very happy when I am a married man. I confess I am eager to see all these agitations ended,” Bingley confessed.
“So am I, I assure you,” Mr. Bennet admitted while Jane looked at her betrothed with equal sympathy and adoration.
For the rest of the evening, Elizabeth did not have a chance to speak to Darcy privately, but she felt content. He smiled often, mostly at her. His smile was different than in the past, and it touched not only his lips but his eyes too. His stares turned into warm gazes, and his voice lost its former severity. Every small gesture showed he was pleased to be there, despite the embarrassing moments he had to bear. And she was happy to have him in her home.
When the guests finally left, her happiness remained, as she knew she would see him again the next day.
***
Daylight found Elizabeth awake and restless though the entire house was still cloaked in silence. She looked at Jane, who was sleeping peacefully, and a strange feeling gripped her. Their lives would soon change forever. Her dear sister, with whom she had shared this chamber, the bed, the fears, and the joys since she could remember, would leave.
Joy and sadness contended in Elizabeth’s heart. She knew Jane had found her perfect match. She knew Mr. Bingley would struggle to remedy his past weaknesses by making their marriage a blissful one.
But she also knew she would lose the person most dear to her, the most trustful confident, the kindest and most generous sister one could hope for. Jane would remain close by, but Elizabeth knew she had to step aside to allow Mr. Bingley to take his rightful place as the person closest to Jane.
Elizabeth watched her sister for another moment and quietly left the room and then the house. It was too early for anything except a long walk in the chilly mist. Only yesterday morning, her solitary walks were driven by torment, fears, and lost hopes. Now, as she hastened her pace, she went as far as possible to calm her mind and steady her heart. Soon she would have to return and enjoy breakfast, and perhaps they would receive a call before noon.
Strangely, she gave not the slightest consideration to the ball or the others who were expected to arrive at Netherfield. She had always enjoyed being in company and attending balls and parties, but now, there was only one companion she wanted.
The path climbed through the trees now empty of leaves, and the wind touched her hair and cheeks like a frozen caress. Below in the valley, a trail of smoke from Longbourn and another from Netherfield swirled toward the grey sky. Three miles separated the two houses—and the people inside them. The one who held her interest must still be asleep.
She scolded herself for her foolishness. Of course, he was still asleep. Or perhaps resting in the comfort of his chamber. Or writing to his sister? She imagined him in his nightshirt, the collar opened to reve
al his neck and his torso below…
Oh, this is complete nonsense. Shame on me, I must be losing my mind, she silently censured her outrageous thoughts.
She removed her bonnet, wishing for a cold breeze to blow the disturbing images from her head. For a while, Elizabeth continued her walk; she forbade her mind to think of anything or her heart to feel what it should not.
A weak sun rose tentatively, melting the hoarfrost from the ground. Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed deeply, wishing the freezing air would chill her heart.
When she first heard the voice calling her, she did not open her eyes; she surely imagined it. Then her name sounded again, closer, and she finally turned. Her heart pounded as her knees suddenly threaten to betray her.
He was looking at her, his eyes warmed by a smile that twisted the corners of his lips.
“Miss Bennet…good morning…I apologise for startling you…”
“Mr. Darcy…good morning, sir.”
“You are well, I hope?”
“Yes…yes, I am…and you, sir?”
“I am very well, thank you. I am taking some time to enjoy the beauties of Hertfordshire, which I unwisely neglected when I was last here.”
His gaze became too intense to bear, and she felt her cheeks burning.
“The views are beautiful, indeed. I enjoy them as often as I can. That is why I like long walks. This path is my favourite…”
“I am glad we happened upon the same path. I believe it has become my favourite as well…” His smile seemed to warm even more, along with her heart.
“May I keep you company? If you prefer solitude, I shall readily depart,” he offered.