“I’ll take this piece as well,” Darcy said abruptly, wondering what on earth he was doing.
The shopkeeper finished with the package for his sister, then came over as Darcy pointed out the piece.“Ah, a wonderful choice, Mr Darcy. Your sister certainly is a lucky young lady,” he said. Darcy did not correct the man, already feeling childish for allowing his impulses to take over. With luck, Elizabeth would never be his wife. Elizabeth certainly seemed to hope as much. If her mother did confess to setting them up, he was sure she would insist on breaking the engagement.
His heart sank. Darcy went over to the counter and paid for his purchases. If their engagement was ended, either by the demands of honour or the end of the necessity, he supposed he could always keep it for his future wife, whoever that might be.
But as he walked out of the shop, he knew deep down that he could never give it to anyone but Elizabeth.
Once back at the townhouse, he unwrapped the package and set out the small velvet box which the jeweller had used to protect Elizabeth’s gift. He sat back in the little sitting area of his suite of rooms, staring at the glistening piece against the dark, soft fabric.
Was he a fool? If Elizabeth had her way, they would never even get to the altar, much less be faced with the task of trying to make a go of their marriage. Heartsick, he rose and closed the box, wrapping it clumsily back up in the brown paper. Only time would tell if they were forced to be together. And the more he thought of it, the more he felt that such a fate would be anything but unwelcome.
∞∞∞
On the night of the ball, Darcy, Bingley, and Caroline arrived at his aunt and uncle’s mansion early. Darcy found a secluded spot as the other guests began to arrive. Now that he was engaged, he would no longer be pursued by every matchmaking mama desperate to have him dance with her daughter. He might stay off the dance floor entirely, if he wished. It was a relief, to be sure. But he found himself wishing that Elizabeth was with him, so he might whisk her out to the dancefloor and hold her in his arms…
“Tis quite the event, would not you say, Darcy?” Bingley asked, looking about the room.“Though I would venture to say that while there are many lovely young ladies here, I see none quite so lovely as we had at the Netherfield ball.” Bingley sighed heavily, and Darcy knew he was thinking of Jane Bennet.
He smiled.“What are you waiting for, Bingley? If you are in love with Miss Bennet, then by all means, marry the girl.”
Bingley’s smile widened.“Am I so obvious?”
Darcy laughed.“Painfully so, my good fellow.”
“I would have proposed to her already, if I could only be certain that her feelings matched mine. Sometimes, I find it difficult to tell what she would think of the match.”
“I confess, I have wondered the same. However, I think some people are more reserved than others. Miss Elizabeth Bennet has told me as much about Miss Bennet. Perhaps the best course of action is to be a bit bold and ask her?” Darcy knew that if Caroline Bingley had heard him make such a speech, she would come apart at the seams. It was not difficult to ascertain her feelings toward the match, nor those of Mr and Mrs Hurst, who seemed to only be concerned with how much money one had, rather than the contents of people’s hearts.
Bingley hung his head.“My family is not convinced it would be a good idea. But how can I go on ignoring how I feel? I love her, Darcy.” Bingley’s smile only grew.“I love her!” he said again, a little louder this time. Several of the other guests turned to look at him in surprise, but Bingley hardly noticed.“I would count it an honour to be your brother-in-law.”
“Technically, we would not be brothers-in-law, but I am grateful for the sentiment,” Darcy replied with a smile. He already saw Bingley as a brother. And if he married Jane Bennet, they would be forever connected through marriages to the sisters. Or at least, he hoped he would.
Sadness suddenly overwhelmed him, worrying over what Elizabeth would find out when she confronted her mother. Indeed, perhaps she already had done, and the matter was already settled. He was eager to return to Netherfield the following day and find out what had transpired.
A few minutes later, Bingley went to ask a lady to dance, one who had been stuck as a wallflower for the first dance set. Miss Bingley found him when her dance set had ended, and stood back, silently judging the rest of the company, no doubt. She turned to him with a brittle smile.“You look well, Mr Darcy. I am sure you are glad to be back in London, among your own people, are you not?”
Darcy raised a brow but did not want to reveal too much of his true feelings.“It has been good to see my aunt and uncle.” He looked around the room at all the smiling faces, but could not get another night out of his mind, the night he and Elizabeth’s destinies had suddenly become intertwined. His heartbeat quickened as he thought of them being alone in the library, suddenly locked in an accidental embrace…
But it was hardly an appropriate subject to consider in public. He would do better to think of his future wife’s more substantial virtues. Elizabeth had handled everything with grace and poise, even though it had been the furthest thing from her own wishes.
Miss Bingley did not seem to notice his distraction.“I must say, are not private balls much more enjoyable than public ones?” She giggled coquettishly and shook her head.“At least, privateLondonballs. I do not think I will ever get over the Netherfield ball. I have never seen such shockingly countrified manners.” She folded her hands in front of her, seeming very proud of the stab she had taken at Meryton society.“It is a relief not to be packed in so, as we were at the Meryton assembly. I was fearful of fainting, with so many bodies pressed together. It made the heat unbearable,” Miss Bingley said.“Are you not dancing, Mr Darcy? I assure you, it is not as hot and uncomfortable as the assembly. I would be more than happy to oblige if you do not have another partner in mind.”
Miss Bingley’s fishing was so obvious as to be embarrassing, but he was not inclined to oblige her.“No, thank you, Miss Bingley. I am not dancing this evening,” he said dully.
Her face fell, and she turned inward once more, watching the rest of the company in disappointed silence. Darcy could not regret it. Quite the contrary. If anything, he regretted the attention he had once paid her, and which had allowed Miss Bingley to hope. What he had intended only as a tribute of courtesy to a dear friend’s sister, she had interpreted as she wished.
Darcy knew better now. Never again would he be so incautious as to encourage her, even if his engagement with Elizabeth ended. Miss Bingley’s behaviour had shown that she was not and never would be the kind of woman he wanted to spend his life with.
The ball seemed dull and insipid without Elizabeth’s wit to brighten the event. He had no fault to find with his aunt’s arrangements, of course. As always, the ball was perfectly elegant and correct. If there was a change from past events, it was only in him.
It was a relief when Miss Bingley found a few people in her acquaintance speak to, and at last left him in peace. But his respite could not last forever. Busy as the Earl and Countess were with their duties as hosts, they nonetheless found time to interrogate their nephew.
“We are so pleased for you, Darcy. We should very much like to meet this fiancée of yours,” the Countess said.“Will we have a chance to meet her before the wedding?”
“I am not sure of that. We plan to be married within the next few weeks,” Darcy replied.“But we will come through London on the way to our wedding trip.”
“Well, we will be sure to plan a dinner and introduce her to all of your London friends. Tell us, how did you propose? We have not heard any of the particulars.”
Darcy cleared his throat.“It was on a whim, really,” he said, leaving out the whole truth. At least his hopes had been confirmed. The news had not reached London, and they could go on with their lives without the shadow of scandal following them — whether they were together or not. The thought of not being with Elizabeth was strangely disquieting. It was silly, perhaps, but he missed her. And he had only been with her a handful of days before. What would it be like to be parted from her forever? To hear, perhaps from Bingley, that she had married someone else?
