She was satisfied with his answer and slathered jam on a bun.
“Though perhaps I will have a dream that shall change my plans.”
Elizabeth’s head shot up as her bun fell out of her hand and rolled onto the table.She felt the color drain out of her face when she met Mr.Darcy’s hard expression.His eyes were cold and unyielding, and his mouth had none of the soft edges she had come to expect.He simply stared at her, his gaze boring into hers.
“Mr.Darcy,” she started.
“Excuse me.”He abruptly stood and left the room, leaving Elizabeth shaking and pale in his wake.
“This is a disaster!”she whispered to herself as she stomped through the woods.She had left the breakfast room as soon as her knees felt strong enough to hold her.“I knew it could not be so easy!”
She whacked an innocent bush with the stick she held.What could he have meant by that statement?His dreams would influence his plans.She huffed.She knew what it implied of course.He had heard her speaking with Jane.Likely it was yesterday in the garden, as that was when she first spoke of him and when they were most likely to be overheard.She vaguely recalled hearing steps on the gravel path but had been so engrossed in her conversation with Jane that she had paid them no mind.Then there was the more damning evidence of Mr.Darcy turning so cold toward her that evening.Hemusthave heard them!Oh, what did he think of her?Did he think she was fit for Bedlam?Or that she was a witch or an abomination?Or worse, a ridiculous liar out to catch a rich husband.
She sank onto a stump and rested her head in her hands.Regardless of how he thought of her specifically, she had clearly lost his respect, and she did not think she had had a great measure of it before this incident.There was likely no going back now.
Suddenly, last night’s dream made sense.The fire represented everything she had hoped for her future.The sandstone house, the strolls by the lake, the sweet little boy with the bright smile, the girl with the solemn eyes.She would never know them now.It had all gone up in smoke.
She avoided Mr.Darcy for the remainder of the day, though she need not have bothered.He rode out on his horse shortly after breakfast and did not return until it was time to dress for dinner.Elizabeth knew this because Miss Bingley would not stop lamenting his absence.Why did he not join them for tea?Why did he not wish to stroll through the garden with them?Elizabeth was glad for it.She was not ready to face him after this morning’s confrontation.She had tried to tell herself she was mistaken—that perhaps he had meant something else with his strange statement.But it was no use.What else could he possibly have meant?It was a very odd thing to say, and coupled with his angry expression and his recent behavior towards her, she was confident her initial assessment had been correct.He hated her.He did not trust her.He likely thought she was insane or a liar or both.
There was no way forward from that.
Chapter 10
Doomed
Elizabethdressedfordinnerwith dread.She did not know how she would face Mr.Darcy, knowing what she did.It was hard enough last night when she had thought he would be her husband.That awkwardness was nothing to knowing exactly what it was she had lost.
She had not told Jane about her confrontation with Mr.Darcy that morning.Her sister was so happy, and she did not wish to ruin it.A horrible thought ran through her mind.In his anger, would Mr.Darcy discourage Mr.Bingley from pursuing Jane?Surely not!The two were very clearly attached now.Anyone could see it.She told herself to stop fretting about things she could not control and gave herself one last look in the mirror before heading down to dinner.She was wearing her best dress—she needed the confidence it lent her.
She entered the drawing room only a few minutes before dinner was announced and did not even see Mr.Darcy until he escorted Miss Bingley to the dining room.Surprisingly, Mr.Hurst offered Elizabeth his arm and seated her next to himself.He was an undemanding dinner companion, and for once, she was happy to be seated beside him.
She was lost in her own thoughts for the first two courses—Miss Bingley never served fewer than three—and barely touched her food in the third.She saw that Jane was seated next to Mr.Bingley and was cheerfully conversing with him.Otherwise, she was unobservant and barely participated in the conversation around her.
After dinner, Miss Bingley led the ladies out and as Elizabeth followed her, she noticed something strange about Miss Bingley’s gown.There was a beaded ribbon about the waist and it fell in two long strands down her back, the ends looking like tiny beaded tassels.Elizabeth had seen those ribbons before, but she could not remember where.It niggled at her mind as Mrs.Hurst played the pianoforte while the other ladies sat by the fire.
“Miss Elizabeth, you are quiet this evening,” said Miss Bingley.
“Forgive me.I am a little tired,” replied Elizabeth.
“I hope you are not getting your sister’s cold.”She looked truly horrified at the notion, and Elizabeth smiled inwardly, thinking that the last thing Miss Bingley would want was another Bennet sister falling ill at Netherfield.
“I am not ill, Miss Bingley.”She smiled at her hostess to reassure her.Something in her mind shifted, and Elizabeth had the sensation of having done this before—this exact conversation, in this room, with these ladies.She prodded at the thought, wondering if she had been part of a similar conversation with Miss Bingley, or perhaps she had seen that gown before.
“Your gown is remarkable, Miss Bingley.Is it new?”asked Elizabeth.
Miss Bingley sat up a little straighter, her pride in her wardrobe evident.“Yes, this is the first time I have worn it.Madame Bouffet quite outdid herself, did she not?”She smoothed her hand over the skirt of the gown.“She assured me this color was perfect for my complexion.”
“It is quite striking,” added Jane.
Elizabeth quickly turned to face her sister.Why had she known Jane would say that?
Elizabeth excused herself and pretended to look through the sheet music on a little table beside the pianoforte.Thankfully, Mrs.Hurst’s performance covered the sound of her rapid breathing.What was happening?She had led a perfectly peaceful life until Mr.Bingley took the lease at Netherfield.Now, she repeatedly found herself wrongfooted in the worst possible environments.
If she was correct—if she was in fact living the events of last night’s dream—Mr.Bingley would walk into the room all smiles and good cheer, Miss Bingley would suggest they set out the card table, and Bingley would say he would rather sit by the fire while smiling directly at Jane.
There were footsteps in the corridor.The door opened interminably slowly as Elizabeth held her breath.Mr.Bingley walked in first, all smiles and good humor.Darcy entered directly behind him, his face a grim mask, followed by Mr.Hurst.
“There you are!Shall I call for the card table?”asked Miss Bingley.
