Chapter 30

Elizabeth and the Bingleys left to view the second estate the following morning. Georgiana kept to her apartment or the music room and was always in company with Mrs Annesley. While they and Darcy took refreshments together after noon, he asked his sister if she would take a walk with him. She shook her head, maintaining a silence that had lasted all day—at least in his presence. He supposed it was her way of telling him how displeased she was that he had allowed Elizabeth to come to Pemberley. She might even have spied the two of them walking together the day before; after all, her apartment overlooked the gardens in which they had been.

Bingley’s enthusiasm for the estate, named Larch Lane, was evident from the moment he, his wife, and his sister returned.

“It is perfect, Darcy, absolutely perfect!” he continued to exclaim at dinner. “Is it not, my dear? Lizzy, I know you agree with me, if only because of the number of trees and rocks we saw.” He began to describe Larch Lane’s manor and grounds, which to Darcy sounded exactly as they should be.

“Were you as pleased with it as your husband,” Darcy asked Mrs Bingley in an effort to encourage his friend to eat, lest the meal last until the next morning.

She smiled, reminding Darcy that he had once believed she smiled too much. He still thought it was true, but he no longer criticised her for it. She was simply a kindly lady who preferred to see the best in the world. He was glad for Elizabeth that she had such a sister.

“I was. We have seen many estates since leaving town, and this is the first one I felt could be our home.”

“You did too, did you not, Lizzy?” Before she could respond, Bingley continued, directing his remarks to Georgiana. “Although she has not yet actually agreed to it, Jane and I expect Lizzy to make her home with us. That is, until she is claimed by a worthy gentleman, which I suppose means it will not be for all that long!”

“Bingley…” Pink covered Mrs Bingley’s cheeks, and she looked between him, her sister, and Darcy, her expression suggesting she wished she could make his words unsaid.

Or perhaps it is only that I wish I had not heard them.

Bingley grimaced good-humouredly by way of apologising. “It is only sixteen miles from Pemberley, and the road is good. Would that not be something, Darcy? You and I settled so close to each other! Jane and I agree it is a distinct advantage of this estate, to know we have you nearby, and we have other friends not so far away. I do not recall whether I mentioned it, but we stopped in Northamptonshire and spent a week with my friend Grey.” He looked first at Mrs Bingley, then Elizabeth, saying, “The drive was very easy, was it not? It took hardly any time.”

“The roads were very good,” Mrs Bingley said, and Darcy saw her eyes dart to her sister.

“It took two days, Bingley,” Elizabeth said, but Bingley spoke on, evidently not hearing her.

“Graystone—Grey’s estate, you know—is a fine one. Very comfortable. Do you not agree, Lizzy?”

He winked at her, and she responded with a brief, hesitant smile. Fortunately, before Darcy was tempted to strangle him, Mrs Bingley spoke.

“Ought you not to attend to your dinner, my dear? After so long in the carriage, I hoped you would take me to view the gardens afterwards. I would hate for it to be too dark when the meal ends.”

Her husband agreed at once, and nothing more was said about estates, apart from Bingley requesting Darcy accompany him to Larch Lane in two days’ time to give his opinion of it.

“If it is not an inconvenience, Jane, Lizzy, and I shall extend our visit a little longer, Miss Darcy. If it is, we shall find an inn nearby.”

“Not at all,” Darcy said before Georgiana had the opportunity to respond—if she intended to, which was doubtful. “My sister and I are happy to have you remain for as long as your business keeps you in the neighbourhood.”

Darcy knew his assurances would not please Georgiana and possibly would be contrary to Elizabeth’s wishes as well, but he did not believe he had a choice. How would he explain it to Bingley? Neither, he admitted to himself, did he wish to end Elizabeth’s time at Pemberley before it was necessary. As far as he could tell, the situation was not particularly burdensome to his sister. She hardly spent time with them apart from at meals and for an hour or so in the evening. While she was not treating Elizabeth with the friendliness she had when they first met, she was not displaying any of her worrying behaviours either; thus he felt justified in his confidence that her health was improving.

Elizabeth was pleased for Jane and Bingley. Currently, all there was for her to do was hope that Larch Lane proved to be just as attractive upon second viewing and study of the estate details—tasks Bingley would undertake with Mr Darcy’s assistance. Larch Lane was by far the most suitable property they had encountered, offered everything Jane particularly wanted regarding size and number of rooms, and, having been well-maintained, would require little renovation. As for Elizabeth, she would be happy to live there, should that be her future. Its proximity to Pemberley meant nothing to her. She knew Bingley would maintain his friendship with Mr Darcy, but that did not mean she would have to join him and Jane when they visited or do more than exchange polite nothings with him should he visit Larch Lane. If she had learnt anything from the walk she had taken the day before with Mr Darcy, it was that she had to be more resolute, to put a firmer barrier between them.

In the drawing room that evening, weary and annoyed by feeling awkward, she decided to play the pianoforte. She asked if anyone objected, and no one did. Much of the music by the instrument was unfamiliar to her, some of it far beyond her skill level, but she found a few pieces she was familiar with and began with a sonata by Corelli. She was some way through it when Mr Darcy appeared by her side.

“Shall I turn the pages for you?”

His voice was low and warm. It was improbable anyone would overhear their conversation, given the pianoforte was at the opposite side of the long room from where their families sat, but still, despite how much she was enticed by his presence, she did not want him there. It frustrated her that he had come, but she refrained from ordering him to leave her be.

“That is very kind of you but not necessary.”

“Yet, I would like to.”

Elizabeth did not respond and continued playing. The instrument was far superior to any in Meryton, and she recalled how delighted she had been to use it the previous year and the occasions she had turned the pages for Miss Darcy while she performed. The evenings the Gardiners and she had spent at Pemberley had meant so much to her. She had begun to imagine how happy they would be living there together, she and Mr Darcy in love and creating a prosperous future for their family, and Miss Darcy as her younger sister, whom she would guide and support as she emerged from the blanket of reserve and anxiety under which she had sought refuge. Little had Elizabeth understood at the time what was behind Miss Darcy’s demeanour!

Glancing in her direction, Elizabeth saw that the young woman’s eyes were fixed on her, her brow furrowed and lips pinched tightly. “You should go to your sister. She is uneasy.”

He looked over his shoulder at Miss Darcy before turning again to the music he was supposedly following to assist her, though she had needed to remind him when to turn the last page. He sighed.

“If you worry it distresses me, you need not,” Elizabeth said.

“This entire situation distresses me.”

“It is not your sister’s fault,” she insisted, despite doubting he blamed her.

“I never thought otherwise. She is entitled to her feelings, and I know she cannot simply alter them. My difficulty is in wanting to have a reasoned discussion of the situation and finding it impossible. Not only with Georgiana but also with Fitzwilliam.”

“He is attempting to protect her and make her well. That is surely his purpose, as I know it is yours.” Elizabeth found herself wanting to assure him she understood his actions and that he was doing the best he could, given the circumstances.

He gave a dark laugh. “I have done little else the past two years but strive to do just that. She requires it, I do not deny that, nor do I resent it. I would do anything to ensure her well-being. I have consulted every doctor, every person who believes they can help her, and I shall continue to do so. You know better than anyone what I have given up to protect her delicate health. We are all protecting Bingley from discovering what happened, and I am beginning to fear where that will end. Do you never think we are so busy protecting others that we have forgotten what is best for us and that there must be a compromise between the two? I will never abandon Georgiana, neither do I expect her to miraculously be strong after a good night’s sleep, but I do not believe the current situation and how my cousin and aunt and uncle insist on acting is in her best interest.”

Elizabeth unintentionally played the wrong notes, and she busied herself looking through the music as though searching for a different piece to play, despite not having finished the last one. “You are angry.”

“Of course I am!” he said. “I am angry that I failed my sister and left her exposed to Wickham, and I am angry that I can do so little to help her, and I am angry that because of how he acted, I have lost my chance of happiness. I long to beg you to promise yourself to me, even though I do not know when we would be able to marry. I do not do so because it would be wrong of me to expect you to give up your life for a dream that I can only hope will one day become possible—not that you would agree to such an arrangement. And because I shall not ask, and you would not agree, I have lost you. Or do you deny it?”

The conversation was clearly increasingly agitating him, and it was little different for Elizabeth. She gathered the sheets of music into a neat pile and stood. Before leaving him, she said, “Do you not realise your sister knows you are unhappy and that is making her even more wretched? She loves you dearly. I could see that last summer, and it must be tearing her apart to feel she is the cause of your present ill temper. I assume she believes it is her you are angry with, and she who has most disappointed you.”

This realisation was born of the conversation Miss Darcy and Elizabeth had shared two days earlier. Elizabeth had thought Miss Darcy wanted Elizabeth to blame her, and it struck her that the poor girl truly expected that everyone did, or at least that they should, because she did herself. This was not the time or place for her to discuss the matter further with Mr Darcy, and possibly there never would be one. What she did know was that it was wrong for them to continue their present discussion where Miss Darcy and Bingley would see that they had grown serious and wonder why.