“Excellent. You must allow me to send my coach for you on that evening, of course,” Mr Bingley added.
“I thank you, sir, that would be very welcome,” Jane replied civilly, before their mother could embarrass them with either too-effusive thanks or a very inconvenient refusal.
Whatever he might have intended, Mr Darcy could hardly stay when his friend was leaving. He looked at Elizabeth with a curious expression, but said only, “Good day, Miss Elizabeth.” He leaned closer, and for a moment, Elizabeth thought he might say more.
“Darcy?” Mr Bingley interrupted.
Elizabeth took a step back, embarrassed that she had been holding her breath at what Mr Darcy might have to say. Was she imagining the rather disappointed look on his face?
He joined Mr Bingley at the door and bowed.
“Until next week, then.”
When they were gone, Elizabeth turned to her mother, feeling that a little teasing might be in order. “Mama, how quickly you accepted Mr Bingley’s invitation! I thought we were too poor to go on morning calls, let alone a formal supper?”
Her mother waved her off. “This is for Jane, my dear. Did you not see how taken Mr Bingley was with her? Mr Bingley has five thousand a year. If Jane can catch him, all our problems will be solved!”
Chapter 24
Darcy strode out over the open ground, relishing the wind’s refreshing bite and thinking of his own foolishness. The day appointed for the supper party at Netherfield would come soon enough; he would see Elizabeth then. In the meantime, pining over her could lead to nothing good. It could only spur him on to reckless action.
And however much he had come to be certain that his heart was already hers, it was far from clear that such action would be wise. Why had Elizabeth left Pemberley so suddenly? The question tormented him. He could not believe ill of her. Surely there could be no reason that would shame her.
But if that were so, why had she not owned it openly? Darcy could think of one reason — that she had discerned his own desires and did not share them. In such a case, a young woman might well leave the roof of the man she could not love in return — and in such a case, it would be both cruelty and self-abnegation to make any proposal to her. Above all, Mrs Bennet could not be allowed to learn that such a match was possible, or she would do everything in her power to see that Elizabeth accepted him, whether or not she wished to.
And to have all of Elizabeth except her heart was a fate Darcy could not bear to contemplate.
As he came over a rise, Darcy saw a field of grain waving in the gentle breeze. He smiled at the lovely sight, not unlike the billowing waves of the sea, and then smiled again at his own foolishness in being so fanciful.
That too, he might justly blame on Elizabeth. She had brought out the romantic in him, which he had not previously suspected even to exist.
Darcy felt his pulse jump upon perceiving a figure coming toward him, recognisable as a young woman even at a distance. It should not have been possible to recognise anyone from so far away, but Darcy felt unreasonably certain that it was none other than Elizabeth herself. Logically, it could have been any of a dozen young women in the neighbourhood, but he was certain he had recognised the woman who had come to hold all his heart.
When they drew nearer, he saw it was indeed so. Elizabeth seemed subdued, but she did not turn aside, making his heart swell with hope.
“Good afternoon, Miss Bennet.”
“Hello, sir,” she replied with a small smile. “It seems you have found my favourite haunt.”
“I thought all the countryside was your favourite haunt. Indeed, we could not keep you inside for more than a few hours at a time back in Pemberley.”
“Well, the Peak District is vastly diverting. But Hertfordshire has diversions of its own,” Elizabeth said, waving toward the field of grain ripening in the late autumn sunshine. “What are you doing out this far? Netherfield is a good four miles from here,” she said. He appreciated the look of surprise on her face.
“I found I needed some fresh air,” he admitted. It would not do to confess that he had been trying to get his mind off her.
Little success that plan had had. It was as if he had conjured her just by thinking of her. Darcy looked down the road and tried to judge from which direction she had come. “Is Meryton your destination, or do you return home?” he asked.
“I was on my way to the market to purchase some ribbons for Lydia. It will be her birthday in a few days,” Elizabeth explained.
“Ah, just in time for the supper at Netherfield. I shall have to mention it to Bingley,” he said.
“Lydia would be most honoured,” she replied. “Life has not been easy for her — or Kitty — since our father died.”
“If you will pardon my mentioning it, I must confess I am surprised that your family has entered so extended a mourning period,” Darcy said. He had wondered why their mother had kept them cloistered for so long. Proper respect must be shown to the dead, and the grieving process was different for everyone, but to allow two full years to elapse without allowing some of their old friendships to rekindle seemed unfair, especially for young, vivacious girls such as the youngest Bennet sisters.
“The mourning period has been over for more than a year,” Elizabeth said. “The cause of our seclusion is largely pride. Our mother has done her best to make economies, and that has forced us to live well below the means we were once used to. I believe our circumstances are turning for the better, though.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Darcy replied. Perhaps her uncle, brilliant businessman as he was, had offered aid so that the sisters might find suitable husbands. Darcy himself would be very willing to help with that project.
