Georgiana’s eyes flashed with an emotion he could not interpret. “You truly believe you understand her circumstances?”
“I understand enough,” he replied, wondering at his sister’s unusual vehemence. “Now, shall we proceed to dinner? It would be discourteous to keep Miss Bennet waiting.”
Georgiana looked as if she wished to say more, but merely nodded, allowing him to escort her from the room. As they walked the corridor toward the small dining room, Darcy noticed his sister’s hands were clenched tightly at her sides, her posture rigid with some unspoken tension.
Elizabeth’s circumstances rendered her ineligible for honorable courtship by any gentleman of his standing. Her reputation, her lack of fortune, her illegitimate child—all conspired to place her beyond the pale of respectable society. That she possessed intelligence, wit, and beauty in abundance only made the situation more poignant, not more acceptable.
A gentleman might admire such qualities, even feel drawn to them, but he could not act upon such feelings without compromising his honor and her remaining respectability. The most he could offer was protection, assistance, and the assurance that her temporary association with him would result in no further damage to her circumstances.
The small dining room glowed with candlelight, the table set for three rather than the intimate pair he had envisioned. Elizabeth stood at the window, her back to the door, silhouetted against the deepening twilight beyond. Darcy’s carefully prepared composure wavered at the sight of her. She had obviously taken considerable care with her appearance, wearing a dinner dress of deep blue silk that complemented her coloring admirably. Her dark hair had been arranged with unusual elegance, and she carried herself with that particular combination of pride and caution he had come to associate with her character.
She turned at their entrance, her expression carefully composed save for the wariness in her fine eyes.
“Mr. Darcy,” she acknowledged with a small curtsy. “I trust you are feeling fully recovered?”
“Quite recovered, thank you,” he replied, bowing formally. “Thanks in no small part to your attentive care, for which I am most grateful.”
“Anyone would have done the same.”
“I think not,” Darcy contradicted. “Few would demonstrate such competence and dedication, particularly given the unusual circumstances.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrow arched slightly at this. “Unusual circumstances?”
“He means that most ladies would not nurse a gentleman to whom they are not related,” Georgiana supplied helpfully, taking her seat at the table.
“Ah.” Elizabeth’s lips curved in a thin smile as the footman helped her to be seated. “Most ladies have not had the privilege oftending Mr. Bennet through his frequent indispositions. One develops a certain practicality after the third or fourth attack of gout.”
The meal began with soup, served by a footman who performed his duties with efficient discretion. Darcy found himself uncharacteristically tongue-tied, the carefully prepared speech he had rehearsed suddenly seeming inadequate in the face of Elizabeth’s quiet dignity.
“You’ve arranged a very formal dinner, Mr. Darcy,” she observed during a lull in Georgiana’s attempts at conversation. “One might almost think you had something significant to discuss.”
Her directness startled a reluctant smile from him. “You are perceptive as always, Miss Bennet.”
“A necessary quality when one’s circumstances are reduced,” she replied lightly. “One must be alert to the subtle shifts in one’s position.”
The veiled reference to her fall from respectable society created the perfect opening for the topic he wished to address. Yet now that the moment had arrived, Darcy found himself hesitating, conscious of Georgiana’s attentive presence.
“Perhaps we might save serious matters for after dinner,” he suggested, noting that the main course was about to be served.
“As you wish,” Elizabeth agreed, though her gaze remained sharp with curiosity. “Though I confess your formality has piqued my interest considerably.”
The roast was excellent, the wine superb, yet Darcy found himself unable to properly appreciate either. His mind circled endlessly around the coming conversation, refining phrases, anticipating reactions, weighing the appropriate amount to offer as compensation.
Georgiana made a valiant effort to maintain conversation, relating news from London that had arrived that morning. Elizabeth responded with genuine interest, asking after Jane and Bingley witha wistfulness that confirmed Darcy’s understanding of her estrangement from her family.
As the dessert course concluded, Darcy signaled for the footman to leave them in privacy. The moment he had planned for had finally arrived.
“Miss Bennet,” he began, his voice more formal than he intended. “I have requested this dinner to address a matter of some delicacy.”
“Indeed?”
“Your care during my illness was beyond what any gentleman could rightfully expect from a lady not of his family,” Darcy continued. “The circumstances, while necessitated by the absence of professional assistance, were nonetheless… compromising.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly, but she made no comment.
“A gentleman cannot allow a lady’s reputation to be endangered through association with him, regardless of her… previous circumstances.” He cleared his throat, uncomfortably aware of how his words might be interpreted. “Propriety demands acknowledgment of such a situation.”
“Propriety,” Elizabeth repeated, her tone unreadable.
