Elizabeth glanced down and, with a shock of mortification, perceived that the rain had rendered the white muslin nearly transparent. She crossed her arms across her breast.
Mr. Darcy, without a word, shrugged out of his coat and offered it to her. “Miss Bennet, pray take my jacket. It will serve until we reach Longbourn.” He fumbled beneath the seat, then drew out a travelling rug and wrapped it around Georgiana. “There, you are quite decent, my dear.” He dug up another, smaller rug, and handed it to Elizabeth. “For your knees, Miss Bennet. Keep them both for now and return them when it is convenient.”
“I would not ruin your coat, sir,” Elizabeth protested, but she drew it about her shoulders out of necessity.
“It is damp already,” he said quietly. “My man will see to it.”
Miss Bingley’s smile sharpened. “If I did not know better, Miss Eliza, I should think you contrived this little adventure on purpose, to parade your boyish figure before the gentlemen.”
Georgiana caught her breath. Color swept Elizabeth’s face from throat to brow.
“Miss Bingley,” said Darcy, his tone even, his eyes narrowed, “were I unacquainted with you, I might suspect you of jealousy. Surely that cannot be the case?”
Caroline flushed to the very shade of her hair and turned to the window, where she remained in resolute silence for the rest of the drive.
By the time they reached Longbourn, the rain had ceased. “Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said in the carriage, “if you come into the house with me, I shall put on my pelisse and send your coat back with you at once.”
“Very well, Miss Bennet.”
They entered the foyer, and Elizabeth slipped out of his coat. Darcy, meaning to look anywhere but at her, found his gaze caught nonetheless by the lovely form the rain had traced. He colored, recovered himself, bowed, and withdrew as soon as the jacket was in his hands.
Chapter 5: Dinner at Lucas Lodge
The very next week, Lady Lucas hosted dinner and cards in her home. Alexander stood at the entrance with his family, greeting their guests. When the Bennets arrived, he stepped forward to speak with Elizabeth. He took her by the elbow and bent close.
“Elizabeth, may I bring you a glass of wine or lemonade?”
She looked into his face and saw that he was upset. She said, “Yes, thank you, I would like some lemonade.” She bit her lip and asked, “You are frowning. Is something amiss?”
His frown deepened. “I watched you running through the rain into that man’s carriage. You were…” he broke off, flushing, “you were indecently dressed.”
“I did not expect the weather to turn,” she answered as mildly as she could. “We were in the woods; it came on in a moment. I covered myself as soon as I could. Mr. Darcy gave me his coat and a rug.”
“Oh, of course, he did. He saw you in that wet transparent dress,” Alexander returned with a vexed laugh. “I dare say he had an eyeful.”
“Mr. Lucas,” said Elizabeth, flushing, “I will not stand to be humiliated.”
His hand touched her sleeve and fell. “Forgive me. I had no right to scold. I let my temper run away with me. I am not used to seeing my oldest friend, the object of any other man’s attention.”
“I am not an object,” she said, gentler now. “Mr. Darcy is not interested in me in that way. His sister is my friend; that is all.You must surely understand that he is the grandson of an earl and is obligated to marry a woman of his own circle. Mr. Darcy is very wealthy, and as we both know, I have no dowry. He will never look to marry someone of my social standing.”
Alexander’s shoulders relaxed, and he offered an apology. “Elizabeth, I allowed my imagination to outrun my better judgment. I beg your pardon for saying those things to you.”
She reprimanded him. “Please remember that in public you must call me Miss Elizabeth. We must attend to the proprieties, especially now that you are courting Miss King.”
Mr. Darcy entered with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and they both glanced at the couple. The colonel said something that made Mr. Darcy smile, and then Lady Lucas announced that dinner was served. Elizabeth longed to know what had passed between the two gentlemen, certain it was about herself and Alexander, for they looked from her to her friend as they spoke.
Miss Bingley entered just behind Mr. Darcy and slipped her long, slender fingers around his arm, leaning close as she whispered, “‘It will be a deadly dull evening.” She sighed, then added, “Did you hear Miss Eliza’s mother speaking of her brother in Cheapside, hinting that he supplies half the great houses? One hardly knows where to look.”
As fortune would have it, they passed close by Mrs. Bennet and overheard her shrill voice saying to Mrs. Long, “Our Lydia will always have officers about her. She will be downcast that none were invited tonight. My lovely girl will be the next to marry, mark me, after Jane catches Mr. Bingley.”
Poor Jane kept her eyes lowered, and both her and Mr. Bingley’s faces turned scarlet.
At the table, Mrs. Bennet contrived to catch Mr. Darcy’s eye from two places away. “We are always at home on Thursdays, sir,” she called to him with great good nature. “So convenient an evening for a small party if you are ever inclined to invite us.”
Mr. Darcy bent his head with polite reserve. Elizabeth suppressed her annoyance and wished, not for the first time, that her mother would hold her peace rather than prattle on with every passing notion. She caused Jane and herself constant mortification through her lack of judgment. Resolutely, Elizabeth kept her eyes on her soup, which proved excellent, and silently thanked Lady Lucas for skillfully turning the topic so that her mother no longer commanded the conversation.
After dinner, Lady Lucas invited the young ladies to perform as she uncovered the pianoforte. Mrs. Bennet rose at once and urged Mary forward.
