“It doesn’t excuse his behavior,” Jane said, “but might you consider the meaning of this purple hyacinth and forgive him?”
Elizabeth detached a sprig from the bouquet, holding it to her nose. The gesture seemed to calm something restless within her. “I will return it to him. He’s already forgiven me for sharing his proposal with Wickham. To think I believed Wickham was a friend. Always ready with a smile and eager to please.”
“While Darcy is known for his frowns and dark scowls,” Jane observed, as Elizabeth made a pursed lip rendition of Darcy’s signature expression.
Both sisters dissolved into giggles, perhaps for the first time since the dreadful events following Wickham’s accusations.
“Although one must be careful not to overextend Darcy’s meaning with these floral sentiments,” Elizabeth said, her caution reasserting itself. “Once he recovers, he will return to Pemberley. He has an estate to consider, a position in society, and a family name to uphold. He made one imprudent offer; he will not make the same mistake again.”
“You’re afraid to trust him,” Jane observed.
“I would be a fool not to be cautious,” Elizabeth replied. “After the scandal, the duel, and Wickham’s lies, I am in a worse position than when he proposed at Hunsford. My sole consideration is that you and our sisters will not be tainted by my fall from grace.”
“Oh, Lizzy, I don’t believe Darcy would change his consideration for you due to recent events.”
“I have done nothing but make things worse,” Elizabeth contended. “If I had not spoken so to Wickham, like you cautioned, none of this would have happened.”
Jane studied her sister thoughtfully. “Lizzy, may I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Of all the people involved in recent events—Mr. Darcy, Lieutenant Wickham, and Charlotte Collins—who has been most consistent in their words and actions, regardless of how pleasant or unpleasant those might be?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wickham was charming with his pleasant manners and sympathetic tales. Charlotte always said what you wished to hear, yet now?”
“Their true characters were revealed.”
“Mr. Darcy, however disagreeable his manner, has been remarkably consistent,” Jane concluded. “If he regarded you enough to make you an offer before the duel, he will, no doubt, regard you even more now that you both have a better understanding of each other.”
“Sweet Jane.” Elizabeth’s hand fluttered. “You think too well of everyone and believe in happy endings.”
“And you pride yourself on your discernment, perhaps masking your fear with denial.”
Elizabeth rose from the window seat, moving to retrieve the flower book once more. She ran her fingers over the cover, thoughtful. “Darcy confounds me at every turn. Just when I believe I understand his character, he does something entirely unexpected.”
“Like attempting to speak through flowers when words have failed him.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed. “Though I cannot help but note the irony of a man using a language he does not fully comprehend.”
“Is it not rather touching that he would try?” Jane asked. “That he would venture into unfamiliar territory rather than risk misunderstanding through direct speech?”
Elizabeth had not considered it from this perspective. There was indeed something both humble and brave in Darcy’s decision to communicate through a medium he did not fullymaster. The proud man she had met at the Meryton assembly would never have risked appearing anything less than perfectly competent.
“I suppose there is a certain… sincerity in the attempt,” she allowed.
“Sincerity,” Jane repeated. “A quality you have always valued highly, and one I believe you share with Mr. Darcy, despite your differences.”
Elizabeth looked up sharply. “I share a quality with Mr. Darcy?”
“Several, I should think,” Jane replied with a teasing note. “Intelligence, of course. Loyalty to those you care for. Strong principles. And yes, sincerity—a preference for direct truth over pleasant falsehood.”
“You make us sound remarkably compatible,” Elizabeth observed wryly.
“I merely point out what I observe,” Jane said, her innocence not entirely convincing. “Though I would never presume to suggest you are developing tender feelings for the gentleman.”
“I should hope not,” Elizabeth replied with forced lightness. “One romantic entanglement in this household is quite sufficient.”
