Chapter 38

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

A nother lady was deep in thought as she left Darcy House. After his disastrous wedding three years prior, Lady Matlock had pieced together enough scraps of information to know that her nephew Darcy had been deeply attached to a young lady some years before but had somehow lost her. When Georgiana had invited her to meet the former Bennet sisters and their aunt, she had explained the entire story. Mrs Bancroft, the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet, was Darcy's lost love.

Over the past days, she had seen the improvement in her nephew's disposition, how years seemed to have fallen away from him. She liked Mrs Bancroft and her family and found them more interesting than many of her fashionable acquaintances. She would not only attend Georgiana's dinner party, but she would also assist her in the preparations.

In truth, Lady Matlock had been feeling rather abandoned. London in high summer was hot, smelly, and dull. Most of her friends were already enjoying the fresh air of their country estates, but she had stayed with her husband, who was working hard to conclude the long session of Parliament.

She wondered whether Darcy and Mrs Bancroft were courting yet. They were not engaged; she would have heard about it. Still, she began to think of having a party of her own. A dinner, perhaps, with some dancing. Oh, if Mrs Bancroft had only come to London in April, the height of the Season! She could have put on a grand ball! But dinner and dancing with a smaller guest list would have to do. They could celebrate the conclusion of Parliament, and perhaps also an engagement.

"She was here?" Darcy blurted in response to Georgiana's description of her day over dinner that evening. "And you did not see fit to tell me? I would have stayed at home. I did not need to go out at all."

Darcy and Fielding had spent the afternoon at Angelo's. Fielding, though the son of a gentleman, had not learnt the gentlemanly pursuits of the first circles, and the brothers by marriage were enjoying his training in the art of fencing.

Fielding affected affront. "You would prefer to drink tea with the lovely Mrs Bancroft rather than spend a hot afternoon sweating over foils at Angelo's?"

"Yes," was Darcy's succinct reply as he sipped his wine.

Georgiana smiled fondly at him. "I think she had hopes of seeing you as well, Brother. She looked at the door often, as if she was hoping another person would step in and greet us."

"She did? Well…" Darcy smiled as his cheeks heated slightly. "Well," he repeated, his heart careening about in his chest. As usual, he was at a loss for words, and so he tucked into his dinner with a renewed appetite.

Later that week, Elizabeth was pleased to receive an invitation from Mrs Fielding to spend an afternoon shopping together. Moreover, it was not time spent at milliners and dressmakers that was planned, but a tour of her favourite book shops, the kind of invitation that Elizabeth was unable to decline.

The ladies had already visited several shops when they arrived at Hatchard's, which had a great quantity of printed music. Both ladies were completely absorbed in sifting through the stacks, setting aside pieces for purchase, when Mr Gardiner's footman suddenly moved to Elizabeth's side and spoke in a low voice.

"Mrs Bancroft, I see a man standing outside who was also looking in the window at the shop on Albemarle Street."

Elizabeth looked at the shop window. There was indeed a man standing on the street looking in. He was not wearing the same coat or hat, and his head was down, but there was something familiar about him. Or was she imagining it? She suddenly felt vulnerable.

She spoke quietly to her companion. "Mrs Fielding, I believe I should return to my uncle's house."

Elizabeth did not know how to explain, but she did not have to. Mrs Fielding had noticed the change in her demeanour. "Has something happened? You seem fretful." Then her eyes widened. "Do you see that man again? Fitzwilliam told me about him."

"I do not know that he is the same man, but our footman saw him earlier, standing outside Earle's on Albemarle Street. Perhaps he is merely looking at books, yet I do not feel safe. I am sorry to end our outing, Mrs Fielding. I have been having such a wonderful time."

"Then let us not end it. Come with me to my home. We shall order refreshments, and I shall show you my music library. Perhaps you may find some pieces you would like to borrow. And pray do call me Georgiana, so that I might call you Elizabeth."

Elizabeth wanted only to leave, though part of her was amused to see that Mrs Fielding, now Georgiana, could be as officious as her brother. Before she knew it, Georgiana had had their purchases charged to her account, and with the help of their footmen had whisked them into the carriage and set off.

"The waltz is danced in London now?" Elizabeth asked incredulously.

They had played with little Robert in the nursery and were sitting down to lemonade and biscuits in the cosy blue and yellow parlour at Darcy House, stacks of music on the table next to the refreshments. Elizabeth had relaxed somewhat as they sampled Georgiana's extensive music library, and she had chosen several pieces to copy out. Georgiana had been describing Lady Matlock's plans for a small party with dancing to celebrate the end of the Parliamentary session, and that she and her family were invited.

"Yes, it has been for over three years," answered Georgiana. "Since the patronesses of Almack's approved it for their assemblies."

Elizabeth smiled ruefully. "I shall have to sit out the waltz, then. I have never learnt it. I have not danced at all in…" She raised her eyes to a point near the ceiling, counting back in her mind. "Almost six years."

"I am saddened to hear that, Mrs Bancroft," came a familiar voice from behind her. Elizabeth could not hide her smile as she turned to see Mr Darcy standing at the threshold of the parlour.

He continued as he moved towards the settee and sat down next to her. "As would any gentleman be who has had the pleasure of dancing with you. You were at sea for almost two years, which explains part of it, but for so long?"

Elizabeth bit back an unladylike snort. She was tempted to answer that some gentlemen found her tolerable but not handsome enough to dance with, but Mr Darcy was being so attentive, it seemed unkind to do so.

"I believe the last time I danced at all was with you at Netherfield. After that, the next assembly in Meryton was a Twelfth Night ball. My mother did not permit me to attend because she was still very angry with me for refusing Mr Collins's offer of marriage in November." She paused before continuing. "Only a few weeks after that we were a house of mourning, first for my sister and then for my mother. My sisters and I stayed at home until my aunt and uncle brought us to stay in London. I was the last to leave Longbourn and sailed on the Melisande immediately after that. After my return to England, I was once again in mourning."

Elizabeth realised that her brief account of the last several years was conspicuously lacking in detail and might prompt further questioning, but she hoped her companions would leave it at that. Georgiana, at least, appeared to be curious.

Mr Darcy on the other hand appeared to be flabbergasted, even a little revolted. Finally, he managed a cough and rasped, "Mrs Bennet tried to force you to marry your cousin?"

"Oh, so you remember him?" Elizabeth said with a smirk, both amused and taken aback by his response. "Yes, she did, but my father took my part in the matter. My cousin Collins proposed to Miss Charlotte Lucas three days later, and they removed to Hunsford after their marriage. Have you happened to meet them there when you visit Rosings?"

"I have not had that pleasure," Mr Darcy replied, having recovered his voice. He was staring at her again, just as he had done all those years ago. "I am truly the last person you danced with?" he asked quietly as his sister busied herself pouring tea for him.

She raised her eyes to his and nodded. "You are."

"Elizabeth!" Georgiana exclaimed. "You must not sit out any of the dances. My brother and I shall teach you how to waltz."

Elizabeth and Mr Darcy both startled, staring at Georgiana and then at each other. Mr Darcy, his face suddenly wreathed in smiles, stood. "I agree. We cannot let Mrs Bancroft sit out for lack of instruction. Shall we proceed to the ballroom?"

Surprised by the rapid turn of events, Elizabeth felt a little nervous but did not know how to refuse politely. She quickly donned her gloves and took the gentleman's proffered arm while Georgiana took the other.

They made their way to a ballroom, the largest Elizabeth had ever seen in a townhouse. A pianoforte stood in one corner next to a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows and glass doors that led out to a terrace and garden. The room was flooded with sunlight. She wondered what it looked like on a moonlit evening with chandeliers lit by dozens of tapers.

"Let me show you the steps and count them out for you," Georgiana offered. She performed the box steps alone, counting all the while. She turned and offered her hand to her friend. "Let us walk through them together."

The two ladies stood opposite each other and clasped hands. Georgiana took the man's part and steered Elizabeth backwards. Elizabeth judged the steps to be straightforward and not terribly difficult. She had certainly never had trouble learning any dance before. She took her place next to Georgiana and walked through them several times.

Georgiana gestured towards her brother. "Fitzwilliam, let us demonstrate the waltz together." Mr Darcy stepped forwards, and the pair moved gracefully through the steps, counting together. They laughed as they counted, looking graceful and self-assured, obviously enjoying each other's company. They were kind, thoughtful, and intelligent people, well-educated and accomplished, and Elizabeth felt a twinge of regret. She loved her family dearly but could understand how, six years before, Mr Darcy had found them wanting.

They stopped, and Georgiana gestured to Elizabeth. "Come, Elizabeth, try dancing with Fitzwilliam. I shall play for you."

Oh dear. He smiled and held out his gloved hand. With a deep breath, she took it. Georgiana sat down at the instrument and began to play a slow, simple melody in three-quarter time. Mr Darcy stood directly in front of her; they were face to face. He was still holding her hand. "You must place your other hand on my shoulder, Mrs Bancroft."

She complied, but the difference in their heights forced her to step closer to him—much closer than his tall sister had been. She gingerly laid her hand on his shoulder and found herself staring directly at the onyx stickpin nestled in the folds of his starched white cravat, jumping a little as his other hand settled on her waist. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body. She felt heat in her cheeks and knew she must be blushing furiously.

"Shall we count two measures and then begin?" Mr Darcy raised their clasped hands out to the side.

They slowly counted one, two, three twice over and began the steps. Elizabeth had never felt so self-conscious in her life, but she forced herself to count to the music, and the first few turns went well.

She raised her head and was rewarded with the sight of the most handsome man she had ever beheld, smiling to himself and humming slightly off-key, his eyes closed in apparent contentment.

She tripped over her own feet and would have fallen to the floor if Mr Darcy had not caught her, wrapping his arm around her waist. Off in the corner, Georgiana stopped playing. "Are you well, madam?" he asked quietly, almost in her ear.

Elizabeth summoned her courage and determination. "I am." She turned her head to meet Georgiana's eyes. "Will you begin again, please?"

They took their positions, and the music began. Elizabeth consciously relaxed her taut muscles, breathing quietly and deeply, no longer counting the beats but allowing the music to flow through her. They moved through the waltz in tandem, and the tempo quickened slightly. After a time, the music seemed to take on a life of its own, swirling through the ballroom but also in their hearts and minds and bodies. Good gracious, how were there violins? She closed her eyes and was seized by a compulsion to laugh out loud.

Elizabeth had the sense that Mr Darcy was bending towards her, his face inching nearer her own, when the sudden sound of a door slamming somewhere in the house broke the spell. Instantly, they sprung apart.

Georgiana was nowhere to be seen. The doors to the ballroom were open. They stood there, blinking at each other, his shock seemingly equal to hers, until Elizabeth dropped her eyes and said quietly, looking at the floor, "I have overstayed my visit."

"I would say not, but perhaps your aunt expects you?"

"Indeed, she does. Will you be so good as to call for my carriage?"

They left the ballroom and walked through the house; Darcy sent the first footman he saw for the Gardiners' carriage.

"Has your first set been spoken for, Mrs Bancroft?" he asked as they made their way to the door.

Elizabeth's heart leapt. "It has not."

"May I claim it?"

"You may."

"And the supper set?"

She looked up at him. He was watching her, his dark eyes earnest. "My aunt permits but one waltz, and it is the supper set," he said quietly.

Elizabeth's head tilted to one side slightly, her eyes not leaving his. After several seconds, she nodded and smiled tentatively. "Yes, I would be honoured."

As they stood by the door waiting for the carriage, he put his hand over hers, resting at his elbow. Within minutes, Georgiana appeared again as if by magic, Elizabeth's chosen music in her hand, grinning quite ridiculously as they made their farewells.