“I agree,” Elizabeth said simply, smiling at her young friend. Once again, Elizabeth thanked her lucky stars that Miss Bingley was not in attendance. At that thought, guilt overcame her. She had still lied to Miss Darcy. And if her brother were ever to find that out, surely she would never be permitted near Miss Darcy again.
Mr Darcy was watching them, Elizabeth found. His expression made her heart pound, for he had obviously found Georgiana’s forwardness as darling as she had herself. She had greeted her as a member of her family, and a most beloved one at that. And Mr Darcy looked…she hardly dared to think it…he looked as though he approved.
They were soon brought into the drawing room to wait until supper was announced. Lydia and Kitty could not seem to sit still. They constantly shifted and giggled and walked about the room admiring everything aloud, from the furniture to the paintings, and even the polished gleam of the floors. Thoughtheir enthusiasm was uncouth, amounting almost to rudeness, Mr Bingley did not seem to notice. Though his own manners were faultless, and he exerted himself to make sure that the conversation flowed well, he had eyes only for Jane.
Supper was soon announced, and they all went in to find their seats. The men were sorely outnumbered by the ladies. To Lydia’s disappointment, expressed in an undertone that thankfully did not seem to carry to their host, Mr Bingley had not invited any of the militia officers. Elizabeth was doubly grateful that it was so. First, their absence would limit the extent of Kitty and Lydia’s folly, and second, the opportunity to have something close to a family party with the Darcys was a treasure she could not have given up without regret.
But Lydia was not to be so quickly diverted. “What a lovely room, Mr Bingley. I must say, it would be made even more jolly with the presence of some flashes of red uniform, though.” Lydia turned, and she and Kitty giggled with one another. “The officers from the camp are excellent company.”
Mr Darcy’s face contorted into a frown. Elizabeth did her best to divert the conversation. “It is a lovely room, Mr Bingley. And so beautifully decorated! I hear the Netherfield hothouses are unrivalled in this part of the country. These blooms are exquisite.”
“Thank you, Miss Bennet. I fear I am not well versed in hothouses. The gardener is an excellent fellow, though, and I am very pleased with how the arrangements turned out.” He turned his attention back to Jane. “What do you think of the arrangements, Miss Bennet?”
“They are breathtaking, Mr Bingley.” Her demure smile was enough to turn any man’s head, and Mr Bingley seemed to be wholly undone.
“These blooms would be the perfect subject for one of your sketches, Jane, would they not?” Mrs Bennet interjected.
Jane looked at her mother in confusion. “Mother, I do not quite know —”
“Oh, do not hide your accomplishments, my girl! I am sure they would be very lovely. Particularly if one could capture those colours, so remarkably fine.”
Mary, who had been silent throughout the whole of the evening, finally chimed in. “Jane does not draw, Mama. None of us do —”
“She has voiced an interest in learning, have not you, Jane?” Mrs Bennet hurried on. “But of course, she has not the proper subject. Certainly not one so lovely as these flowers!”
Mr Bingley nodded. “Then, by all means, you must allow me to send an arrangement home with you.”
Jane shot Elizabeth a pleading glance.
But there was nothing Elizabeth could do. The supper went on, exquisite in the dishes served and in the opportunity to be reunited with dear friends, but dreadful in the repeated offenses of her own family.
Given the scarcity of gentlemen, Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy did not remain at the table when supper was concluded, but joined the rest of the party in the drawing room directly. Miss Darcy at once asked Mary to play, in terms so flattering and insistent that Mary was delighted to the point of speechlessness. Elizabeth smiled at her friend in silent thanks for so welcome a kindness.
After everyone was settled, Miss Darcy approached her. “Miss Elizabeth. How are you enjoying the evening?”
“Very well, thank you,” Elizabeth replied. She lowered her voice. “Thank you for asking my sister to play, Miss Darcy. It has been so long since Mary has had a chance to play for anyone but our family. I believe you have made a friend of her for life.”
“I should be very glad of it, but I am afraid it may make my next request rather inconvenient, by decreasing Miss Mary’s audience.” Miss Darcy bit her lower lip. “All the same…may I speak with you, Miss Elizabeth? In private?”
Elizabeth looked at her in surprise and alarm. “Is something amiss?”
“No, not at all. I have something to ask you, that is all. Will you join me?” Miss Darcy asked. She started toward the door, glancing over her shoulder at the rest of the assembled party before they went out into the hall. Mr Darcy was the only person who seemed to notice that they were leaving. He made no effort to stop them, only nodding to them as they left.
Miss Darcy led her down the hall and up to her guest room. To Elizabeth’s surprise and alarm, she closed the door behind them and motioned for Elizabeth to join her in the little sitting area near the hearth. Without a word, she went to the bedside table and picked up a book, bringing it back and offering with a smile.
Upon seeing the title, Elizabeth’s heart froze. She ought to have known all along.
“Will you sign it for me?” Miss Darcy asked.
Though feeling foolish even as she did it, Elizabeth gave a nervous laugh. “Me? Why would I sign Mrs Laurence’s book?”
Miss Darcy smiled. “I know you think you must keep up pretences. But it is too late now, Miss Elizabeth. It became veryapparent this afternoon when I reread your description of the countryside. It seemed very much like the countryside around Meryton.”
“There are several places in England that could share similarities with Meryton —”
“But then there was the copious amount of writing you do. And how well you seemed to understand Mrs Laurence’s intentions and themes.” Miss Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand. “Please, Mrs Laurence,” she said.
Elizabeth licked her lips. “Oh, Miss Darcy, you must let me apologise. I did not mean to deceive you —”
