Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

D arcy was silent the entire ride to the Gardiners' home on their way to the Surrey Institution lecture. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mrs Sullivan talked amongst themselves, but it still took Darcy aback that his cousin had said as they got into the carriage, "Clara wants her new friend Miss Elizabeth Bennet to join us."

And of course Fitzwilliam had agreed with the hopes of him making a match with Elizabeth after all.

He had thought that it would be the newly engaged Bingley who would force him to see Elizabeth, not his cousin and his secret betrothal. He was uncertain why Elizabeth wanted to come, especially since she had known that he would escort her as his guest. Mrs Sullivan might have pressed her, and despite the newness of their acquaintance, Elizabeth might have felt compelled to agree.

It was natural that Mrs Sullivan wanted to befriend Elizabeth. Elizabeth was possessed of every requisite likely to ensure her the love, the esteem, and the admiration of all her acquaintances with any sense to speak of. She also had every requisite to render a man happy, and Darcy had no reason to believe that she would turn her admiring gazes onto him.

In Cheapside, his footman went to the door, and in a moment Elizabeth was sitting across from him. He would have to look into her pretty eyes the rest of the way and know how he had lost her respect with his selfish behaviour and ungentlemanly manner.

She and Fitzwilliam engaged in the usual trivial chat that identified one's place in the world, and their common acquaintances and experiences. It was so easy for both of them, and even Mrs Sullivan's forwardness aided her in this sort of exchange.

Elizabeth's ease and liveliness would answer for all of his wishes. Darcy dropped his gaze from watching her talk with his cousin and friend. Would she ever think that they were perfect for one another the same way that he did?

"Where exactly are we going?" Elizabeth asked, peering out the side glass.

When Fitzwilliam nudged him with his elbow, Darcy answered, "The Institution meets in the Blackfriars Rotunda building in Southwark, on the south bank of the Thames."

"I think I was there as a child with my aunt and uncle, but it was a museum," she said. "I remember a lot of birds."

"It was once the Leverian Museum," he agreed. "It was filled with oddities from around the world. It closed a few years ago and was remodelled for the Institution."

"You know a great deal about London's attractions," she said brightly. "The panorama, museums, the features at St Paul's. If I want to visit a public place, I know who to ask for a recommendation."

"I spend at least one quarter of the year here," he said with a shrug, not remembering when he had spoken to Elizabeth about St Paul's.

"And he would rather go look at a curiosity or attend a viewing of some invention than attend a vigorous rout like any other young single man," Fitzwilliam said with a laugh. "A lecture is a good outing for a reserved man."

Darcy felt offended. "And yet here you are at a lecture."

"I am here to escort a lady with better taste than I have," he said with a wink.

The conversation ended as they arrived and entered the impressive auditorium. Within moments, a crowd of friends surrounded Fitzwilliam and Mrs Sullivan. Darcy found himself not in the mood for empty small talk after being accused of being taciturn. He would have stayed with their group for the sake of appearances, but Elizabeth asked where they were to sit.

"There are many ladies here," Elizabeth said, sounding a little relieved when he found their seats in the rotunda. "I was afraid Mrs Sullivan and I would be nearly alone, but there must be a few hundred women."

Darcy looked around the room and agreed she was about right. "The room holds five hundred, and they all seem to know my cousin," he added with a smile.

"Your cousin is popular."

"People are drawn to him," Darcy murmured as he watched his cousin and Mrs Sullivan stand in a group of a few men and several ladies. He realised Elizabeth might find him tiresome, or perhaps not want to be forced to talk with him alone. "Would you like to join them? I can introduce you to anyone you wish to be known to."

"I am happy to sit here with you and await the lecture," Elizabeth said emphatically. "Is Colonel Fitzwilliam particularly interested in any of those ladies?" she asked in a teasing voice. "He seems remarkably friendly, but he might provoke their jealousy."

He could not admit that his cousin was betrothed, and Mrs Sullivan must not have admitted it either. "My cousin is actually a subscriber to the matchmaking subscription, so he is only talking to those ladies out of politeness."

He expected her to look surprised at his admission, but she showed no reaction to this news at all. "Has he found anyone?"

"I could not say," he said firmly. Realising she might misconstrue his abruptness as rudeness, he added, "He joked about having dozens of correspondents, but I do not believe him."

Elizabeth laughed, and then her expression sobered. "From what I recall you saying at dinner last week, you approve of the enterprise? Would you…" She looked away and blew out a breath. "Would you ever hope to find a wife through such a means, granted she was honest enough?" she added awkwardly.

He looked at her a moment before answering. She sounded remorseful for some reason, but perhaps she was just embarrassed by the topic of the matchmaking subscription. "I see the appeal of writing letters to get to know a person without the expectations of one's friends getting in the way." He was not near to ready to admit that he had subscribed but been spurned. "They can decide on their own if they suit and could have, as you said at dinner, a affectionate marriage."

"I am not in society as much as you are," she said, "but I have heard little talk about it lately. Do you think the talk has died down because it has become accepted or because the venture is unsuccessful?"

This pressed uncomfortably close to his own experience, and he did not want to think about his failure with L. "Why are you curious about it?" The alarming thought that Elizabeth might use the matchmaking subscription to find a husband turned his stomach.

"I have been thinking about this subscription service and the agency it gives women," she said slowly. "It allows women an active role in courtship."

Darcy turned to look at where Mrs Sullivan, a long-widowed banker's daughter with fortune but no connexions, stood cheerfully next to the younger son of an earl. He wished them both happy and knew they would not have had the opportunity if not for the subscription. "I know some are calling it a new aggressiveness, but women corresponding with would-be beaux is hardly as insulting as how some women use cunning to court a man in a drawing room. I suppose they are the same goal, so if one method is acceptable, why not the other?"

He turned back to look at Elizabeth and was surprised to see that she looked embarrassed. When had she ever used arts to captivate a man? He could not believe her to be cunning; she was so sincere.

"I think women use their gifts, influence, and charms to captivate men, if they can," she said carefully. "You might say their time is better spent on serious reading or domestic or charitable pursuits. But there is more at stake for women than men when it comes to matrimony."

"I think both men's and women's happiness are at stake. You cannot value the happiness of one gender above the other."

Elizabeth gave him a long, sad look. "How could you know what it is like?" she asked. "To be a woman on a small income, how expenses like buying clothes and tea are carefully counted, that even receiving a letter can be a financial burden? If you did, you would be more patient with the women who court you."

He narrowed his eyes in confusion, curious about what she meant. "Why is that? When I have given them no encouragement to court me in the first place?"

"Mr Darcy, if you lost everything, if all the Pemberley estates and your investments were lost to you, I am confident you could begin again. You are a man, and a clever, well-connected one with a fine education. I am certain there is nothing you could not do." His heart beat fast to hear any praise from her lips. "But I lose everything when my father dies, and I am a woman with no resources. There is far more at stake for women, so while I cannot approve of a woman throwing away her pride for a man, I understand it. Think about what women have to sacrifice to have room and board."

The idea of a woman trading autonomy, their bodies, for the security provided by a man struck him to his core. He would never put his sister or his daughters in that position, but men often left their female relatives in dire circumstances. The world left women with few options for their own maintenance.

"I do not mean to be unkind toward women in such a precarious position." If Elizabeth disliked him before, she must have lost all respect for him now. "You must think me a complete fool."

She placed a hand on his arm. "Never," she said firmly as she removed her hand. Darcy wanted to grasp it and hold it tight. "I only wanted you to consider it from my point of view, all poor ladies' point of view, really. I will have little to live on, and no accomplishments to be a governess, and no connexions to become a companion. But I still won't marry without affection and respect. However, I have sisters and an uncle I could rely on if I never marry. Not every woman has that support."

"I hope you are not confined in such trying circumstances to risk an unhappy marriage," he said with his voice catching. "You deserve someone who admires how vivacious and caring and witty you are."

She looked into his eyes. "I am hopeful."

When their eyes met, he felt the connexion deep into his bones.

Was the gulf between them still impassable? He had misunderstood her archness and playful spirits before. But he had not heard one mocking aside or sardonic speech from her all evening nor at the ball earlier. And there was no mistaking the affectionate look in her eyes, the smile playing at the corner of her lips, her complete attention.

"Who are we hearing tonight?" Mrs Sullivan asked as she sat next to Elizabeth. Fitzwilliam followed down the row to join her. Whatever had passed between him and Elizabeth in that moment was gone as their friends took their seats.

Darcy tore his eyes from Elizabeth and pulled a pamphlet from his pocket and thrust it across her to Mrs Sullivan. "Mr Accum is speaking. He is a chemist and believes they can use the gas produced during the heating of coal as an illuminate."

Mrs Sullivan exclaimed her disbelief and entreated Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam to agree with her. His cousin indulged her, but Elizabeth smiled and said she could be convinced before she turned back to him.

"So, do you now approve of women who pursue a partner for their own happiness and security, regardless of the medium, if they at least admire the man for his good character and merits?" Elizabeth said to him quietly as everyone took their seats.

When their eyes met again, he could believe that she felt something for him. Was Elizabeth Bennet flirting with him? Had she come tonight for him? For the first time, he could perfectly imagine a life of domestic tranquillity with a loving wife by his side. He had never felt that certainty while writing to L.

I love Elizabeth better than any woman in the world.

"You have stated your case on women's situations beautifully, so I must," he said in a low voice, leaning a little closer. Darcy's heart pounded wildly when he asked, "If you were pursuing a partner, a man you admired for his merits rather than what he could offer you, what qualities would you look for?"

This had to be the most pointed conversation he had ever had with any woman. Did she like him? Could she come to love him? He needed to be certain before he acted or spoke. Any sure sign from her would unleash every feeling in his heart.

Elizabeth's lips parted, and she turned pink. Her gaze slipped from his eyes down to his mouth. "Darcy…" she whispered.

The librarian came to the table at the front to introduce the lecturer, and the conversation in the room stopped. Elizabeth gave a little disappointed sigh and looked away. Darcy reluctantly shifted away to face the front of the room, but he fought a smile as the lecture began.

Somehow, during their short reacquaintance in town, he had gone from being a person Elizabeth disliked to being a person she cared about.

The lecture might have been brilliant. Elizabeth could suppose the Institution fostered and disseminated scientific, technical, and literary knowledge and understanding. But what she was most aware of was Darcy. While Mr Accum made demonstrations with an elaborate display and talked of gaslight and the future of illumination to a rapt audience, Elizabeth felt Darcy's heat next to her. His arm as he held his hat in his lap was scarcely an inch from hers. The audience on all levels of the elegant rotunda leant forward in interest, and Elizabeth wished she had reason to lean into Darcy to pretend to see better.

I put myself forward—how alarming and wonderful—and he seemed interested.

Elizabeth felt she was the sort of woman that could attach a man of sense, a man who had lived in the world, but would Darcy consider marrying a little beneath him? He wanted a marriage of attachment, just as she did, but it might be uphill work to show herself in an amiable enough light to make him propose. She had neither beauty, connexions, nor fortune to tempt him, so her personality and character would be the way to gain her his notice.

But she knew Darcy to have all the worth that could justify the warmest hopes of lifelong happiness with him—if she continued to put forth the effort.

After the lecturer finished and the crowd lingered to talk to him and amongst themselves, some men came to talk to Darcy. He introduced her to his acquaintances, but she preferred to watch him rather than speak herself. She had the impression the audience was more middle class than aristocratic, but Darcy was entirely at ease. He was either putting forth the effort to be more agreeable, or he was more in his element here talking to these people interested in science and manufacturing than in Meryton amongst strangers.

He still should have been introduced and danced, but she had judged him harshly.

While the conversation went on about chemistry and the charter for a Gas Light and Coke Company, Elizabeth noticed that Mrs Sullivan and Colonel Fitzwilliam had drifted apart to talk to themselves. She watched them and wondered why Mrs Sullivan did not linger at Darcy's side.

"Do you find us tiresome?" Darcy asked.

She started and snapped her eyes back to his. "Not at all. I was only wondering why Mrs Sullivan was not with us, but I am content here with your friends."

Darcy smiled, but he parted from the group and pointed toward the door. "We are tedious; you are just too polite to admit it. Would you like a tour of the Institution while Fitzwilliam chatters with one group and another?"

She agreed, and Darcy led her out of the crowded rotunda. Adjoining the theatre and near the enclosed space appropriated to the lecturer was a chemical laboratory. Contiguous to that was the committee-room. There were also conversation rooms and a reading room.

"On the other side of the theatre is the research library," Darcy said, leading her down a corridor, "with a gallery on three sides, and easy access to it by a flight of steps, if you would like to see it?"

"I am not a subscriber; am I allowed?"

"Unless you plan on walking out with a book, it won't be a problem."

He led them through the throng to an impressive library that Darcy said held five thousand volumes. When the door closed behind them, the silence was a welcome relief from the noise and conversation of five hundred people. Elizabeth noticed Darcy exhale and settle his shoulders, and she wondered how little he liked a crowded room.

"Could we stay for a moment before we find our friends?" she asked. If he suspected that her asking to stay was for his benefit, he did not show it. He smiled and gestured that she look around. She pretended to look at the bookcases nearest to her, her eye wandering up to the gallery, but she preferred to stay near to Darcy as he asked her what she thought of the lecture.

"Does he really mean to tell us it will be possible to have light without a wick?" she said sceptically.

"Mr Accum thinks that through gas, it will be possible to have light in all rooms the way many private homes in England are provided with pipes in the walls that deliver water."

"Are you a chemist, as well as a landowner?" she teased.

Darcy laughed. "No, I have no talent at all for scientific study."

"Then why do you attend the lectures?"

He thought for a while, looking around the room as he came up with an answer. "I am always learning. I am curious, I suppose, and I want to support curiosity."

"I understood little about Mr Accum's process," she admitted, hoping he would not disapprove of her or think her stupid. "I would have to attend several more lectures to be able to explain it to anyone."

Rather than grow haughty or condescend to her, he smiled and stepped nearer. "I do not always understand every topic presented, but I enjoy feeling on the verge of progress."

She could not help smiling at learning more about Darcy. "How did you come to be involved in the Institution?"

Darcy looked out into the room. "It is not interesting."

Elizabeth's hopes fell. "I want to know." When he still said nothing, she said quickly, "I did not give you the credit you deserved when we first met, but please believe me when I say I am interested in knowing all about you now."

She was being forward again, and her heart raced in anticipation. Darcy looked at her before answering. He seemed a little surprised, but he gave her a soft smile.

"Helping to fund the Institution was the first endeavour I supported on my own after I inherited Pemberley. My father died about five years ago, and for a year I did nothing for my sake." He paused and struggled with what to say. "My father's death was difficult for me."

Elizabeth held back the urge to put her arms around him. "I am so sorry."

He bowed his thanks and paced in front of her as he spoke. "His death was not a surprise, but still a deeply felt loss. Then, in early 1808, I heard there was a need for private subscribers to open an organisation devoted to scientific, literary, and musical education and research. The amount was thirty guineas, and for the first time I spent money—what was now my money—for something other than Pemberley or my necessities or the charities already supported."

"Tell me what drew you to it."

Still pacing, Darcy said, "Because I was curious about the application of science to the common purposes in life, and all the other topics as well, even though it is often more performance lectures than serious research," he added, looking a little embarrassed.

"It is more accessible that way," she exclaimed. "I could not retain any knowledge if it were not."

He stopped walking and stood in front of her. "It is not as fashionable here in Surrey, not like the Royal Institution farther west. Although perhaps it has a little more intellectual freedom."

"It seemed a wide and appreciative audience," she said, gesturing her head toward the door and the rotunda. "And I think your father would approve."

Darcy shrugged, coming nearer. "I am uncertain he would approve of how liberal and middle class this is compared to the Royal Institution."

"Oh, he would approve of you doing something for yourself because it made you happy." Darcy fixed his attention on her, but still looked doubtful. "I am glad you found your way again."

"Your eyes are remarkably expressive." His voice was warm, and he smiled gently before realising he had given her a forward compliment. The way he turned pink and apologised was charming.

"Don't apologise," she said, feeling embarrassed and grateful at the same time. "I am quite flattered, to be honest. What a long way you have come from ‘tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me.'"

It was easier to tease and be arch than say how much she wanted him to admire her. How could she make him know how wonderful she thought he was? Could she let him know how well she thought they could complement one another, if he would only give her the chance?

"Miss Bennet?" he asked quietly. "Would you—would you tell me why you wanted to come this evening when you did not even know who was speaking?"

There was a pointed look in his eyes, like he knew the answer and wanted her to confirm it.

She suddenly felt nervous and lost her previous courage. "Are you implying I do not have a curious mind, am not interested in the nature of things, like you are?" she said breathlessly. "I like a little rational amusement."

He set down his hat on a table near to her and came closer. "You expressed an interest in coming when Mrs Sullivan mentioned it, because you want to be her friend, yes?"

She had forgotten all about Mrs Sullivan and Darcy's cousin and a lecture hall full of people. She nodded.

Darcy was directly in front of her. She was now effectively trapped between him and the bookcase. "Is that the only reason you wanted to come tonight?"

If she wanted any chance with Darcy, wanted him to forget Mrs Sullivan, she would have to be more direct than she had ever been, either in person or in L's letters. She could hear her own pulse pounding in her ears, and her nerves felt frayed.

"Well, before I answer that, you know that if a woman wishes to fix the affections of a man, it is generally agreed that she should conceal from his view the hold that he has on her heart. How does that suit anyone's interests?"

"It does not," he breathed. He reached out his hands and gently took hold of hers. She felt a shock of awareness when their hands touched.

It took her a few tries to find her voice, with Darcy tracing his thumb across her hands. "If she shows what she feels, she will be thought forward and, therefore, an unsuitable wife. But the man, or his friends, might assume she does not care for him." Thoughts of Jane flitted across her mind. "That matchmaking subscription lets participants know they are open to matrimony, and in the privacy of a letter they can reveal what might be in their heart without opening themselves to criticism. But heaven forbid a woman just tell a man that he has become very dear to her."

Darcy squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Why did you ask to come tonight, Elizabeth?"

"Because I knew you would be here, and I like you very much."

His nearness made her heart stagger. With his gaze locked upon hers, he moved closer, his hands brushing along her arms before he pulled her into his embrace. She saw his intention a moment before feeling the touch of his lips. He leant down and pressed his warm lips firmly against hers.

Elizabeth was entirely unprepared for the onslaught of emotions unleashed from a single kiss. His arms tightened around her waist, holding her flush against him as his lips hungrily tasted hers again and again. His lips touched hers in long, lingering kisses, and she could have laughed with happiness.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to him. His lips swept over hers, kissing her hard. It felt exhilarating when Darcy's tongue entered her mouth, bringing the two of them even closer together. She stroked his jaw, his cheek, and he gave a soft moan against her lips.

He pulled back from kissing her and rested his forehead against hers, leaning into her and gently pressing her into the bookcase. For a moment, they both stood there, with her in his arms and both of them breathing heavily.

She felt joyful, enjoying his closeness and the knowledge that Darcy cared for her after all.

"I am sorry," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I should have?—"

"What?" she cried, startling him so much he stepped back. "Why are you sorry?" A sickening fear that he still had feelings for L or admired Mrs Sullivan settled in her stomach. "Is there someone else?"

Darcy's mouth fell open, and before he could speak, the door opened and Mrs Sullivan and Colonel Fitzwilliam walked in.

"There you are," he cried cheerfully. "Of course, you would be in the library when you ought to be social."

Darcy's cousin appeared not to notice anything amiss, but Elizabeth caught Mrs Sullivan's eye. Her gaze darted from her to Darcy and seemed to take in the entire scene. Elizabeth felt herself blushing fiercely. Had the woman who wished to be in her place caught her in an embrace?

Mrs Sullivan gave a heavy look to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who did not understand, and then she glared at Darcy and gave him a disapproving shake of her head before striding toward her.

"Miss Bennet, I have been missing you all evening. You cannot leave me to talk with these people without a friend at my side."

Mrs Sullivan linked an arm through hers and all but dragged her back into the corridor toward the rotunda.

"Good heavens," she muttered. "Your aunt will never allow me into her home! She will never even let me speak to you again if she learns I left you alone to be taken advantage of. And to think Mr Darcy capable of such an outrage."

Realisation dawned, and as wounded as she was that Darcy's heart might not be free, she could not allow the woman he might choose to think him capable of that. "He did not importune me," she said as she was tugged along. "I, I am so sorry, Mrs Sullivan. I was a willing participant, but I am sorry, and I want to be your friend." She loved Darcy, but she hated the idea of Mrs Sullivan losing all respect for her. "Please forgive me."

All of her thoughts were a muddle. Who did Darcy care for more: her or the woman hauling her back into public view?

Mrs Sullivan slowed their pace and patted her on the arm with her other hand. "Well, kissing behind a curtain is hardly a scandal, is it? It is nothing every young person has not done once or twice. And no one saw you together but me and Fitzwilliam. Besides, as you are my friend, I can forgive you anything, not that you were to blame."

They were now back among the crowd, but Mrs Sullivan still kept their arms linked. In a softer voice, she added, "And all I saw were two people standing rather close together. Oh, my dear, you look stricken. I would never speak against another lady, you know. I would never hint that a few moments alone implied anything improper."

Mrs Sullivan would stay silent, either because she loved Darcy and still wanted him for herself, or because she was a loyal friend and Elizabeth did not deserve her.

She kept an arm around hers while Colonel Fitzwilliam chatted with all the little groups. Darcy eventually re-joined them, but Mrs Sullivan kept them apart with her conversation and her physical presence. Mrs Sullivan would not let go of her until they were in the carriage half an hour later. Darcy sat across from Elizabeth, and although he caught her eye and gave her a small smile, there was no opportunity to talk.

He clearly had some affection for her, but was it enough to forsake L and Mrs Sullivan and marry her? It took all of Elizabeth's self-control not to cry during the awkward and mostly silent carriage ride home.