“Elizabeth,” he whispered throatily, pulling her closer and lowering his forehead to hers. A kiss would have been imminent had her sisters not been on the other side of the pond. Already Elizabeth could hear Lydia’s giggles.
With mutual sighs, Elizabeth and Darcy stepped away from each other and resumed walking.
“Why would a young lady wish to come out before she is ready?” Fitzwilliam asked.
For the excitement, the dancing, the parties, the stolen kisses.Elizabeth would not say this aloud when they all applied to Fitzwilliam’s sister. Despite Miss Darcy’s secret courtship and near elopement, he still believed her an innocent child. He did her no favors treating her that way. Her petition and the reasons she gave for it proved it.
He would not like what Elizabeth must say, but if they could not speak freely with each other now, then they must practice and improve. “It seems that she is testing you. What could she possibly gain from coming out now and here, other than to steal Mr. Bingley away from Jane? Surely, you have told her how inappropriate such a match would be.” She huffed. “Can you imagine what Miss Bingley would do to her?”
She felt Fitzwilliam’s ribs stretch and collapse, heard his breath. “I felt so guilty entrusting Georgiana to Mrs. Younge. It was a negligence on my part which nearly led her to ruin. Georgiana was shattered. All I could think of was cheering her, and Bingley is always cheerful.”
“Yes, I agree. And he would seem safe after suffering from the likes of Mr. Wickham. But a girl her age is prone to heartbreak. It would have been preferable for her to learn from the experience and grow stronger on her own rather than to rely on another gentleman for her contentment. People too often disappoint.”
Fitzwilliam’s eyes pinched. “I see that now.” He sounded defeated. He did not think she meant that he had disappointed her, did he?
She spread her hand over his arm. “You have not disappointed me. To the contrary, you are a treasure trove of surprises.”
The pinch in his eyes deepened. Pressing his lips together, Fitzwilliam dipped his chin to his chest. “Then I shall apologize in advance, for what I must tell you will surely be disappointing.”
Elizabeth laughed half-heartedly. “What could you possibly tell me that weighs on you so? Tell me at once so that you may be free of the burden, and we may carry on as before.” Her attempt to lighten the mood only seemed to worsen his agony. Her stomach twisted into knots. All sorts of horrible possibilities flooded her mind.
“Lizzy!” she heard a muffled call. Fitzwilliam dropped Elizabeth’s hand and stepped away as she heard another cry. “Lizzy!” Lydia ran around the pond toward them.
There was no black smoke rising from Longbourn, nor was a royal carriage parked in their drive. Elizabeth was unable to account for her sister’s interruption and unwilling to leave before Fitzwilliam had told her what troubled him. “Just a few minutes, Lydee.”
With a ferocious glare at Fitzwilliam, Lydia grabbed Elizabeth’s hand. "You must return with menow. Jane needs our help." Lydia tugged, mumbling something about viperish guests and forcing Elizabeth to follow or risk toppling over.
Fitzwilliam followed. "Shall I accompany you?"
The dear man would intervene with Mr. Bingley's loathsome sisters for Jane's benefit. Elizabeth might have swooned had Lydia not been dragging her down the path.
Lydia spun, swinging Elizabeth around with her and pointing her finger toward Fitzwilliam. “Is it true? Have you been discouraging Mr. Bingley to offer for Jane so that he might marry your sister?”
"Lydia!" Elizabeth gaped at her sister's rudeness. Such a wild claim should not be borne! What on earth had come over her? Lydia pulled her away, preventing any further explanation.
"Lydia, you were terribly rude to Mr. Darcy. I had not thought you capable of such behavior."
"Do not slow down, Lizzy. Jane needs you." She let go of Elizabeth's hand to help her untie her bonnet, and Elizabeth realized how quickly her sister must have dashed out of the house for her to have forgone her bonnet or a wrap. The day was fine, but it was still chilly.
"Lydee, you will catch your death. What would Mama say?"
"She will not care about me once she hears about Mr. Bingley." Lydia dashed behind Elizabeth, pulling off Elizabeth's wrap and redingote. With a shove, she pushed Elizabeth across the threshold and toward the front parlor. Elizabeth hardly had time to gather her bearings or straighten her blowsy hair.
She knew Lydia was right to fetch her as soon as she saw Jane's pale face, shiny eyes, and forced smile. It was a stark contrast to the pink complexions and haughty postures of Mr. Bingley's sisters, who sat calmly across from Jane. So much for the headache Miss Bingley claimed to have.
Mrs. Hurst set her teacup on the table and rose. "Miss Elizabeth, what a pity we must take our leave just when you have returned, but we have overstayed as it is. We would not dream of intruding on your family's hospitality a moment longer."
Miss Bingley's chin rose to a triumphant angle. "We will leave Miss Bennet to share our glad tidings with her sisters. I am certain you will share in our joy."
Elizabeth stepped out of the doorway, curtsying as they passed and widening her eyes when Lydia gave them both the cut direct.
Brushing past Elizabeth to sit beside Jane, Lydia clasped her sister’s hands between her own, her lips set in a thin line like an angry sentinel determined to offer comfort. "It is a good thing you convinced Mama to sit out in the garden for a spell. We should put her smelling salts by her chair."
Jane explained, "Mama thought it best for Mary and Kitty to entertain Miss Darcy. Lydia was told to stay by the fire because Mama heard her cough—”
“One trifling cough,” interjected Lydia with a pout.
“—and Mama did not wish her to catch a cold before the wedding,” Jane continued. “I was enjoying a lively conversation with Mr. Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam when Mrs. Hurst asked me to come inside. She said that Miss Bingley had some wonderful news to share."
