Chapter 11

Eleven

They were more than halfway through dinner before Darcy could speak to Elizabeth. He was unsure if she was ignoring him, if she was content to allow others to demand his attention, or both. Having decided she would not readily talk to him, he was startled when she did.

"I hope your business in town was successfully concluded."

"It was, and I am glad to have it over with. It has been ongoing for some time." He ought to say something more, but the way the candlelight was making her radiate beauty and vitality made him forget how to speak. Her gown was a shade of light lilac, and he almost believed he could smell the flower too, as though she was blossoming. Once again, he longed to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Feeling like he was gazing at her like the love-struck fool he was, Darcy struggled to make his smile merely friendly and polite, which would match her demeanour.

"Did you see Miss Darcy? Is she in town or…"

"Georgiana remains in the country. We have an uncle on my father's side, and he and his wife are at Pemberley with her."

"I am sure that is very pleasant for her."

"I would like to have her closer to me, but given the difference in our ages, it is not always possible." If only you would marry me, that would change—one of the many wonderful differences our union would bring to my life. As much as I love Georgiana, I believe it would be the least amongst them, but then, I am a selfish being and think chiefly of how I would benefit.

Neither of them spoke. After a brief interval, she turned her attention to the meal. Darcy took a surreptitious deep breath and shook off enough of her enchantment to act like a rational adult. He was not the most brilliant conversationalist, but perhaps, possibly, if they spoke more, it would open a door through which they could pass and find their future happiness. Even if there was only a slight chance, he had to take it.

"I saw Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst."

Elizabeth fixed him with a quizzical expression.

"We met by chance. In the park. Yesterday. I was riding with my cousins, Colonel Fitzwilliam and his elder brother, the viscount. I wish the ladies could be happier for their brother. They are fortunate to be gaining Miss Bennet as a sister."

"I must naturally agree."

"I am very happy for them. I hope their joy erases the months of separation they endured," he stated with emphasis, wanting to acknowledge his past errors and make it clear that he fully supported Bingley's choice of wife.

Her features softened. "I am certain it will. They are both so agreeable and always see the best in everyone and everything. Jane will convince herself their relationship has unfolded just as it was meant to and their life together will be all the sweeter for…the bumpy road they have travelled."

Their eyes remained locked on each other, and Darcy's heart began to race. They might be speaking of their own situation; they had certainly been on an uneven path, more so than Miss Bennet and Bingley. Did Elizabeth feel as he did, that if only they could find a way to breach the most recent barrier between them—that of her youngest sister's marriage—they could find such exquisite joy as husband and wife?

Darcy was thankful that Mr and Mrs Gardiner had kept his role in the Wickhams' marriage secret, as he had asked. Elizabeth would have mentioned it if she had learnt of his actions. If his greatest dream came true and they married, then he would tell her. At times, he wondered if it would help if she knew. It would demonstrate the lengths he would go to correct the consequences of his past actions. Would it make her think better of him and, yet again, forgive him? Or was the greater danger in her knowing and feeling a sense of obligation to him?

For the remainder of the evening, he and Elizabeth had little occasion to speak privately. He caught her looking at him several times, and there was something in her expression that made him think she regretted it, almost as though she had something she wanted to ask or say to him. Seeing it made his mouth grow dry, and he felt an odd tremor of mixed anticipation and dread. For the first time, he wondered if the impetus behind Mrs Bennet's scheme was because she suspected her daughter liked him. It had made more sense to believe the matron recognised his feelings for Elizabeth, but Mrs Bennet was her mother and might understand her sentiments far better than he could.

He refused to believe it without further proof. The best course of action would be to observe her—no, better than that, talk to her, which is what I had hoped to do this evening, to little effect!

As had happened at Mrs Philips's card party, he garnered more attention than he wanted from that lady, Mrs Bennet, and Mrs Goulding. As individuals, in pairs, and once as a trio, they sought him out with the apparent purpose of praising Elizabeth.

"My niece is lovely, is she not? She is second in beauty only to Jane," Mrs Philips said.

"All the Miss Bennets are pretty." Darcy did not know what else to say, but it evidently satisfied her, and Mrs Philips soon took herself off.

When he saw Mrs Bennet and Mrs Goulding walking in his direction a short time later, he imagined jumping out of a window to avoid them.

"I have always thought how much Lizzy would like to explore other counties. Even as a small child, keeping her active mind busy was such a challenge, and seeing more of the world would be a great benefit to her," Mrs Bennet said.

"Oh yes, and when she is mistress of her own establishment, what a good job she will do!" Mrs Goulding said.

"To say nothing of when she is a mother," Mrs Bennet interjected.

The ladies giggled, actually giggled.

"I always regretted that my son is too young for her. He is at school, you know, Mr Darcy, and is still a year away from entering university," Mrs Goulding explained.

"I am sorry not to have met him yet," Darcy replied when it became clear they expected him to say something.

The two women regarded each other, some silent communication passing between them, and they went to join Mrs Philips across the room. Darcy watched as they spoke in what appeared to be an urgent manner, one or another glancing his way, and Mrs Philips pointing at Elizabeth. If only he could be open and say that they did not need to tell him about Elizabeth's excellent qualities. He was familiar with them all and would do anything to win her regard. All he wanted was a sign that she was willing to hear him speak of love and marriage, despite having once rejected him.

Elizabeth sat at the window of her bedchamber, staring into the night. The moon was bright, but she could still see countless twinkling stars. Despite her best efforts, she had been unable to ease her agitation enough to sleep since their return from Haye-Park. Her thoughts were too full of Mr Darcy. Every adjective she could bring to mind failed to adequately describe how much she admired him. She knew her love for him would overwhelm her if she let down her guard.

It had been wonderful to see him again. Her relief when he had entered the Gouldings' drawing room had been so profound that she had felt lightheaded; she had not previously realised how afraid she was that he would not return, despite his assurances to Mr Bingley. She ought to do more to control such feelings but was not strong enough to overcome them.

I am glad we spoke about Jane and Mr Bingley, she mused. It seemed like an acknowledgment that they had once argued about the couple and that the matter was finally settled and behind them. At present, Elizabeth was debating whether she was brave enough to broach the subject of Lydia and that man ? She would rather not, but she felt it looming over her, threatening her peace of mind.

I know it will be unpleasant for both of us and may make no material difference, but it seems important that we speak of it. Yet, I am afraid of hearing him say he could never marry a lady who had that man as a brother. He might as well thrust a dagger through my heart.

Still, she could not deny the compulsion that made her long to tell him that she was glad the couple had married, and she hoped never to see them again. She might thank him for keeping the truth about Lydia's elopement to himself. Did she not always say that her courage rose in the face of any attempt to intimidate her? Vowing she would remember her inner strength, Elizabeth resolved to talk to Mr Darcy as soon as possible. With that, she crawled into her warm bed and willed sleep to take her.