CHAPTER28
Darcy had more reason than ever to seek Elizabeth’s company, but he found himself in the frustrating position of being often in her presence but never in a circumstance allowing private conversation.
It was true that her friends and family—with the expected exception of Miss Mary—were happy to turn the other eye and allow a pair of young lovers to steal a few moments together.
Not so his own sister.
Not only did Georgiana stick like a bur to his side, but she had also adopted the custom of riding early with him, thus preventing his morning encounters with Elizabeth.
All obstacles aside, Darcy did manage to relate the story of Wickham’s nearly successful seduction of Georgiana during a soiree at Lucas Lodge. Thankfully, Elizabeth was insightful and had drawn the correct conclusion that the betrayal Georgiana had suffered had been at Wickham’s hand. She would tell her father what was necessary, and Wickham would never again be permitted to cross Longbourn’s threshold.
But Georgiana’s attachment to Bingley and Darcy’s reasons for approving of the eventual match required absolute privacy and more time to fully explain. Darcy resented the necessity of telling Elizabeth at all when the precious exchanges they shared were too few and far between. He craved her clever conversation. They were in each other’s company every day, and yet he missed her.
With only one more week until their wedding day, Darcy despaired of ever having a private word with Elizabeth before they were wed. If only Georgiana were stronger. If only she did not rely so much on him. If only he were a better brother… These guilty thoughts gnawed at his bones.
Already that day, Georgiana had frustrated his plan to speak with Elizabeth during his morning ride even though he had departed a good quarter of an hour earlier than normal. She did so again at the Philipses, who had kindly invited them for tea.
Now Darcy paced Netherfield’s music room while Georgiana practiced and Miss Bingley turned the pages, planning how he could escape to Longbourn unnoticed and without being followed.
There was a knock at the door, and the butler cleared his throat. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Catherine Bennet,” he announced.
Elizabeth breezed inside the room like a breath of fresh air to a suffocating Darcy. Her complexion was bright from exercise, her skirts damp from the fields and paths.
Darcy’s favorite kitten followed her, bumping his head against her leg and rubbing against her skirts until Elizabeth leaned down to rub her hand along his shiny black back. He arched to match the movement, wrapping his tail around her hand and meowing up at her while all the usual pleasantries were exchanged.
Bingley exclaimed, "He likes you! I did not think he liked anyone except his own mother and Darcy."
Richard added, "He is a gentleman selective in his friendships." Jerking his head toward Darcy, he added with a wink, "Reminds me of someone else I know."
Elizabeth laughed, and Darcy’s mood lightened. "Then I am doubly honored." She stroked down the cat’s back one more time. If Darcy could reverse time, he would not have been in such a hurry to escape from Bingley’s study. What he would give for just five minutes alone with Elizabeth.
"Darcy would make an excellent name for a cat," Richard mumbled, rubbing his chin.
Teasingly, Elizabeth called “Darcy” to the kitten. He yawned and blinked his eyes slowly at Richard as though to convey the ridiculousness of his suggestion. A finer feline Darcy had never met.
Elizabeth chuckled. “He does not agree with you, Colonel.”
Miss Kitty joined the other ladies by the instrument after snatching up another kitten, who had been flicking his tail and staring at the fringe dangling from Miss Bingley’s sleeves. She planted a kiss on top of his head. “Is this the rudy—”
Miss Bingley pounced on the mistake. “Rudy? What is a rudy?”
Miss Kitty giggled, too accustomed to her sister’s teasing to be bothered by Miss Bingley’s mean-spirited question. “Rude, rowdy. I could not decide which one, so they must have decided to tumble off my tongue together.”
Bingley observed, “The same happens to me all the time. There are simply too many words to describe one thing.”
“Precisely! How am I to choose only one when there are so many choices?”
“My thoughts exactly!” Bingley looked about the room for support and then back to Miss Kitty when he got none. He reached out and scratched the top of the kitten’s head. “Rudy. That would make a fine name for this cat.”
Miss Kitty beamed. “Rudy. Sounds like the name of a mischievous little boy with muddy boots, torn trousers, and jam smeared on his cheek.”
“And a frog in his pocket!” added Bingley.
“Or it could be short for Rudolph! A fine, dignified name!”
They laughed until Miss Bingley spoke. “It is a pity Mr. Collins left Longbourn so soon after his arrival.”
The mention of Mr. Collins had the same effect on their party as a wet blanket over a fire. Bingley, who had been so talkative moments before, went noticeably silent.
