Chapter 32

32

E lizabeth knew that Mr. Darcy and his relations would have arrived at Netherfield the previous evening. She expected they would arrive at Longbourn with Mr. Bingley this morning, and she was quite unable to account for her anxiety.

Yes, she thought Mr. Darcy would wish to apologise to her, and she was concerned that Mama would read entirely the wrong reason for his request if he asked to speak to Papa and then her. She knew Mama would not be quiet about the fact even though she still believed he despised them all and that Elizabeth disliked him.

She sighed, and stabbed the needle through her embroidery. With this lack of attention, she was likely to have to redo it all tomorrow, but at least she appeared to be fully occupied, and she could think without being obliged to make conversation.

It had been easier to be calm in her mind when she had disliked him. She huffed a laugh; Aunt Gardiner had a lot to answer for, having made her consider Mr. Darcy's point of view.

She frowned at her needlework. Men were not to be trusted; Papa often reminded her, and she must remember it. Mr. Darcy had only started being considerate to her after he had heard her sing about men wishing to possess women for their beauty or talent. It was entirely likely that he was hiding a wish to possess her.

And he was clever. Too clever. If she let down her guard for a moment, he might discover her last secret. Once people knew that, then she really would never be safe.

There was the sound of hooves on the gravelled drive; she didn't look up, but listened carefully. One horse. It would not be the Netherfield party, and she glanced briefly at the clock. It was still too early for the calling hour, and she continued to listen intently.

A very quiet, but low voice, and then the sound of a knock on Papa's library door. It was Mr. Darcy. Perhaps he had come early to ensure that the rest of her family did not know he was going in to Papa first — he would join his party and they would enter the sitting room together. Clever — much too clever. She must be careful and not risk him finding out about her.

It was a pity Aunt had made her think less ill of him but, no matter how she felt, she ought not give him any encouragement. Then he might leave Hertfordshire and she would be safer. Fifteen days. Only fifteen days until Jane's wedding, and then, perhaps, he would leave the locality. She could go back to walking out with Charlotte, go to the cottage, and allow music to refresh her soul.

Her thoughts filled her mind, so much so, that she missed seeing the door open until Mary nudged her. Papa smiled at her sister, then looked at Elizabeth.

"Your mind was far away, Lizzy." He gave her a warning look. "Come with me, please."

As she had surmised, Mr. Darcy was waiting in Papa's bookroom, standing gravely as he waited for them.

"Take a seat, Lizzy," Papa indicated a chair. "Mr. Darcy wishes to speak to you before the rest of the party arrive, so he may join them and be less conspicuous to your mama — who we know might misconstrue this meeting."

Elizabeth nodded. "I understand." Then she turned to Mr. Darcy. She had to be polite.

"Good morning, Mr. Darcy." She kept her tone cool, and took the chair, indicating the one opposite her for him to take. She didn't want him looming over her.

He looked uncomfortable, as well he might, but he sat down with a wry look. "I thank you for being prepared to listen, Miss Elizabeth." He glanced at her papa, and took a deep breath.

"I know it is some time since I overrode your wishes and I have not been here to apologise in person, but now I have the opportunity, I wish to reiterate the apology I wrote to your father and say that I ought to have spoken to you first and ascertained your wishes before I wrote to my aunt." He met her gaze. "It was very wrong of me, Miss Elizabeth, and I have been anxious to see you again and to apologise for it."

Elizabeth nodded. "I accept your apology, Mr. Darcy. But I would ask you not to share any knowledge of my playing and singing in the future. While I will perform at local events when my neighbours ask me to, I wish for privacy to enjoy my music and do not wish that to change."

He grimaced. "I am sorry I did not understand your wishes fully and risked the loss of your privacy." He glanced at her father again. "My sister is with me and will be arriving shortly with the rest of the party. She has been very excited about meeting you because, as I told you, she is a devotee of Santorio." He hesitated. "I hope I am not asking too much of you if you are kind to her and now that I know your wish for privacy, I will attempt to restrict the length of time she is able to trouble you." He took a deep breath as if this was something he did not want to say. "She is very shy, and although I wish to keep the information private, I must tell you the reason I pander to her in this is that last summer she was importuned by a man who wanted only to possess her fortune, and this has made her nervous of meeting new people."

Elizabeth gasped, her hands to her mouth. "I am sorry, Mr. Darcy. I hope she is recovering from the disappointment."

He smiled at her. "It has been a difficult time for us. But she has found Santorio's music a great comfort — she seems to think his emotions can be similar to hers." Suddenly, his face lit up. "And we received a new selection, published just before Christmas. There is a very inspiring piece called The March of Hope. I expect you have received it, too."

Elizabeth smiled at him. "I know it. It is hard not to tap your feet to."

"Yes!" he said enthusiastically. "It reminds me of military music, and marching. It has made a great difference to Georgiana."

Papa cleared his throat. "I do not like to intrude into the conversation, but I can hear a coach arriving, which I presume is Mr. Bingley and your relations, Mr. Darcy." He grinned. "If you join them then the rest of the family will be none the wiser at your earlier call."

Mr. Darcy had jumped to his feet. "Indeed." He bowed at her. "I thank you for your kindness, Miss Elizabeth."

"Off you go then," said Papa. "And if your cousin wants his game of chess, I am at his service!"