“Of course, you must!” cried Mrs. Bennet, though her attention appeared fixed on Mr. Bingley and Jane more than anyone else in the room. “We were not expecting so many visitors, but I am certain it will be no trouble to host you.”
“I thank you for us all, Mrs. Bennet,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “We shall be delighted to accept.”
With those words, the general conversation in the room ceased in favor of conversing with one’s neighbors. Kitty and Lydia were engaged in whispering between themselves as was their custom, while Mr. Bennet stood with Mr. Darcy engrossed in a conversation of some seriousness. Mrs. Bennet watched Mr. Bingley and Jane like a hawk focused on a fat hare, though Elizabeth was certain the pair never noticed her. Lady Catherine fussed over Anne, who appeared to endure her fretting with difficulty; the former had nothing to say to anyone else in the room, while the latter appeared to regret the impossibility of speaking with anyone else. Mary was, as usual, seated by herself, observing the rest of the company. As for Elizabeth, the colonel soon approached her, fixing her with a smile, though one of some uncertainty.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said the colonel as he stepped close to herand bowed over her hand. “I hope you will indulge me for a moment, for there is a matter for which I must apologize to you.”
“Is that so?” asked Elizabeth, unable to fathom what he might mean. “Then by all means, you had best make amends, for I would not wish to hate you forever.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled at her jest. “I dare say you could do a bang-up job of it, Miss Elizabeth. I refer to my unthinking words to you the last time we met on the grounds of Rosings.” At Elizabeth’s look of incomprehension, he clarified: “When I informed you of my cousin’s boast regarding Bingley and your sister.”
Understanding flooded Elizabeth’s mind, and she hastened to say: “I think no apologies are necessary, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“Actually, they are,” replied he. “For you see, I have a habit of embellishing every tale I tell. The truth of what happened is often tedious, rendering a little exaggeration necessary for a good yarn. In this, however, I overstepped and said more than I should.” He paused and chuckled, adding: “My cousin would say I should have said nothing, and I suppose I must allow his opinion to prevail.
“Though I had nothing but the supposition that it concerned Bingley, Darcy mentioned the matter only in passing and certainly did not portray it as callously as I related. Darcy is a good man and an excellent friend—what advice he gave Bingley he offered as a service to a dear friend. He does not disapprove of your sister.”
“I believe, Colonel,” Elizabeth hastened to say, “I understand what Mr. Darcy was attempting to do. While I cannot agree with it, knowing something of the truth of my sister’s feelings, I understand Mr. Darcy’s obligation to counsel his friend as truthfully as his understanding allowed.”
“Darcy has told me he believes you are as generous as any woman he has ever met,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “He is correctin every particular.”
Elizabeth’s eyes found Mr. Darcy, and she saw him still in close conference with her father, apparently oblivious to his cousin’s position next to Elizabeth. Whatever he knew about Colonel Fitzwilliam’s unfortunate words, it was clear the colonel had not approached her at his cousin’s urging. This comforted Elizabeth, for while she still could not repine her refusal of his suit, at least he was not so unfeeling as she had supposed.
“Thank you, Colonel,” said Elizabeth, with feeling. “At present, Mr. Bingley appears little inclined to be parted from my sister again.”
“Yes, I had noticed that,” replied the colonel, regarding the pair with some amusement. “As I informed you in Kent, I do not know Bingley well, but whatever he does, I am convinced he does it with all his heart.”
“Then there is nothing else to consider,” said Elizabeth. “All appears to have ended well.”
“I cannot but suppose it has.”
The colonel regarded her as if he wished to say something further. The moment passed and whatever he contemplated, Elizabeth must assume he decided against voicing it, for he made some banal comment, and they spent the rest of their time before dinner conversing amiably about subjects of little consequence.
Chapter XVI
Darcy gave the appearance of being focused on his conversation with Mr. Bennet, and the appearance was fact, but he was also aware of his cousin’s position speaking with Miss Elizabeth. Knowing Fitzwilliam as he did, he had suspected Fitzwilliam would go to her, knowing he had spoken out of turn, and offer his apologies. While Darcy conversed with Mr. Bennet, at first speaking of Wickham, but then of more general topics, he wondered if he might approach and remain unscathed. Miss Elizabeth was generous, but the scene in Hunsford’s parlor must still be fresh in her mind. It certainly was in his.
Yet how could henotapproach her? The fascination he had felt in Hertfordshire, that had turned to preoccupation those months after he left, and then passionate regard in Kent was as strong as ever—perhaps far stronger. He no longer knew how to measure the strength of his attraction, for it was a part of him, another appendage or a portion of his heart that no longer belonged to him. He could not more easily ignore her than the moth could resist the flame’s brilliant call.
Something of his distraction was apparent, for Mr. Bennet was looking at him with clear amusement. Never having spoken much to the man, Darcy knew little of his character, but his powers of observation were not in question. What opinion he had of Darcy’s interest in his second eldest daughter he could not say, but Darcy did not think he would need to wait long before Mr. Bennet made his sentiments known.
“It appears my Lizzy has made an impression, Mr. Darcy.”
With a start, Darcy realized he had been silent for some moments, contemplating what was between Miss Elizabeth andhis cousin. The sheepish look he turned back on Mr. Bennet appeared to confirm his suspicions and amuse him.
“Do not be cast down, young man. I will own that I had some notion of it before you went away in the autumn.”
That was a shock to Darcy, such that he gaped at the other man. “How?”
Mr. Bennet chuckled and shook his head as Darcy confirmed his suspicions. “I noted how much you looked at her, sir, particularly at Mr. Bingley’s ball. Though Lizzy contended you looked at her to catalogue her faults, I am aware of what attracts a man’s attention. No man looks on a woman as much as you watched Elizabeth to look only for blemishes.”
“Yes,” said Darcy absently, “I recently realized that she was ignorant of my interest. To own the truth, I had thought I was rather blatant.”
Mr. Bennet grinned. “Then it appears it is fortunate your inscrutability deceived more than just my Lizzy. Unless I miss my guess, your aunt would not be pleased if she was aware of it.”
Darcy’s scowl seemed to provide the man with additional fodder for his amusement. “The time is coming when I must disabuse the notion altogether.”
“And what do you suspect she will do then?”
