Chapter 33

Rather than return to the house, Elizabeth extended her time in the open air. She did not want to encounter Jane until she had regained her composure.

When she saw Colonel Fitzwilliam walking towards her, she wished she had gone to her chamber. She brusquely nodded and walked past him, but he called her name. She stopped and turned to regard him, arching her brow in invitation for him to say what he liked.

“Will you not walk with me? We strolled together often enough in Kent.”

Elizabeth was incredulous. “A great deal has changed since then. I was under the impression you had no desire to see me, let alone speak to me.”

His countenance took on a light dusting of colour. “I regret that. We were always friends.”

She laughed, infusing it with more humour than she felt. “Do you know, Mr Wickham said almost exactly that to me when he brought my sister to Longbourn.” She could see her arrow had hit its mark, and while that was satisfying, she more kindly added, “Unlike him, I believe you are an honourable man, Colonel, and you have done what you considered best for Miss Darcy. But I cannot pretend not to feel it. Do you truly expect me to wander the paths, perhaps make the occasional remark on the fineness of the view or how I have spent the last few months, as though nothing has happened? It is far too much to ask of me.”

“You say you understand, but your demeanour suggests otherwise.” He spoke as if challenging her, and she responded in kind.

“Very well. I accept that you and others in your family believed your cousin would be wrong to marry me, given how greatly the thought of it distressed Miss Darcy. While I do not agree that she has any reason to fear me or that she would have to see that despicable man, I understand she cannot view the situation as I do. What I shall never comprehend is why you acted towards me as you did whenever we saw each other last winter.”

“Why were you there?”

“In town?” He nodded once, and she continued. “Surely you know I went to be with my sister. If you next ask why I am here, I assure you, it is not out of some nefarious plot to ensnare Mr Darcy or entice him to propose. What manner of person do you think I am? I wish we had not come to Pemberley, but I genuinely did not know how much it would disturb Miss Darcy’s peace. Was there something else you wished to say to me, or might I continue my walk?”

He regarded her for a moment. “It would be better if you and your family left as soon as possible.”

“My sister and I agree with you.”

“Good. I will do everything in my power to protect Georgiana.”

“From me?”

He gave a little jerk of his head as though saying that was exactly what he meant, and Elizabeth let out an exasperated gush of air.

“I ask again, what manner of person do you think I am? How exactly do you think I would hurt her? Do you believe I would ask either of your cousins to sit down to tea with Mr Wickham, knowing what I do of their past? Nothing about me has altered since you and I first met, other than me now having the great misfortune of calling Mr Wickham a brother-in-law—one I would gladly never see again. I do not understand how I have become the person to blame for what my sister did, why Ihave had to give up my happiness because of it. She eloped with that man, not I. Yet, you act as though my presence in Miss Darcy’s life would introduce evil to it. Let us resolve to avoid each other for the time I remain at Pemberley. I fervently hope it will not be long.”

She strode away without giving him a chance to say anything else that would anger her.

“I am pleased for you, Bingley,” Darcy said for what felt like the thousandth time. Surreptitiously, he sighed in relief at the first glimpse of Pemberley House as they returned from their visit to Larch Lane. While some improvements were necessary, it was nothing extraordinary. His advice had been to proceed with the purchase. For his part, Darcy was pleased at the prospect of his friend being settled so close to him, though now, what he most fervently wanted was five minutes of quiet. Bingley was understandably gleeful, but there were only so many times Darcy could assure him of his approval.

Once the carriage had stopped in the courtyard, Bingley leapt out, hardly waiting for the steps to be lowered.

“I shall just find Jane and tell her you agree with us. We shall be settled in our new home by Christmas—sooner, I expect. How wonderful!”

“Wonderful indeed,” Darcy murmured as he rubbed one temple.

He followed his friend into the house and, upon encountering Mrs Reynolds, enquired where his sister was and asked her to send tea to his apartment in a quarter of an hour, hoping it would ease the slight headache that had formed during the carriage ride. “I shall go there after I have a quick word with Miss Darcy.”

Georgiana refused to see him.

“She is resting. I am afraid she is having a difficult afternoon,” Mrs Annesley said. They were in the corridor outside Georgiana’s bedchamber.

“What has happened?” Darcy demanded.

“I do not rightly know, sir. I enquired, of course, but she would only say she did not feel well and wanted to sleep.”

Anxiety clouded Darcy’s ability to think clearly. After all these months, how can I not know what to say or do under these circumstances?

“I am not unduly worried,” the older lady assured him. “She was not upset as she often gets—no crying or…other unfortunate behaviours. It is possible she truly is simply tired. She is not used to being around so many people who are not relations.”

Darcy nodded. “Very well. Thank you. Please do have me informed at once should anything further happen and send for me the moment she is prepared to see me.”

Mrs Annesley had been invaluable, and he knew he could trust her to keep Georgiana safe. With both him and Fitzwilliam close at hand, his sister was in no danger of doing herself any true harm. It meant he was not particularly worried when he went to the drawing room an hour later to wait for his guests and cousin.

Fitzwilliam entered first. “Day with Bingley go well?”

“It did. Were you aware that Georgiana will not come down tonight?”

Fitzwilliam gave him a look that silently asked whether Darcy was an idiot. “You can hardly blame her for not wanting to sit at the table with them. When are they leaving?”

“I might ask you the same thing.” Darcy crossed his arms over his chest and regarded his cousin, who stood near the fireplace.

“My presence does not disrupt Georgiana’s well-being.”

“Perhaps if you did not constantly tell her that she is justified in shunning Elizabeth, and society as a whole, she would not find it so impossible. Enough. I hear Bingley and the ladies approaching.”

Sure enough, the trio entered the room. Oddly, Bingley was subdued. Darcy expected such behaviour of Elizabeth, who only offered him a brief glance and nod in greeting; she disregarded Fitzwilliam entirely. Mrs Bingley’s gaze darted from her husband to her sister to Darcy again and again. She spoke primarily to Fitzwilliam, asking him how he had spent the afternoon; her voice was tight.

Nothing changed once they moved to the dining parlour. Bingley slowly moved food from his plate to his mouth. If spoken to, he answered offhandedly, but otherwise, he appeared to observe the rest of them, his brow furrowed. Mrs Bingley remained the only person who said more than the odd few words. Her chatter was uncommon for her, and much of what she said served no purpose other than to fill the silence.

As soon as the meal could reasonably be considered at an end, Mrs Bingley stood. “I think Lizzy and I should leave you gentlemen to enjoy your…whatever you prefer. She and I have something to discuss. Um…family business. But-but nothing serious.”

The way her tone became higher pitched belied her words. Elizabeth regarded her sister with concern—indeed, both Bingleys had looked ill at ease all evening—and rose and went with her. Darcy turned to Bingley, who watched him steadily, his eyes flickering to Fitzwilliam.

Why do I have the distinct impression something grave has taken place, and why am I afraid to find out what it is?