Elizabeth shrugged; she had no wish to deny it. “But it was not to be. I made too many mistakes—as did Lydia. I dearly hoped he would come back, but I was not surprised when he did not. Marrying so far beneath him to a woman with no money and four sisters would always have presented a difficulty. But add to that having Wickham as a brother and…well, sometimes love is simply not enough.”
“Oh Lizzy, you poor thing! I am sorry.”
Elizabeth dropped her gaze to her lap, not wishing to witness her sister’s pity. She whipped her head up again when Kitty continued, “I do notunderstandit, for he is so high in the instep ’tis a wonder he can walk straight, but Iamsorry.”
“How comforting,” she said drily.
“I would not be so sure he does not still love you, though. After all, he did try to keep you away from Lord Rutherford.”
“Please let the matter drop. He does not love me, and my heart will never mend if I am constantly reminded of it.”
“No, of course. Do you know whatwouldhelp it to mend?”
“What?”
“Going to the British Institution this evening and meeting Mr Knowles.”
Elizabeth threw her hands in the air. Her sister was incorrigible. “Absolutely not! His being there is precisely the reason I will not accompany you. Did you not just hear me say that I am in love with Mr Darcy? What could possibly make you think that I want to encourage a different man?”
“Oh, fie! Then I shall take Annie.”
“Halfway across London after dark? I think not. She is only sixteen. I am sorry, Kitty, but your Sergeant Mulhall will have to be disappointed. You are not going and that is final.”
“But Lizzy?—”
“If you insist on pushing the matter, I shall inform Uncle Gardiner what you have been up to, and he will forbid you from going anywhere for the next month!”
She had not intended to be unkind but being forced to divulge her deeply held anguish, only for it to be casually overlooked in favour of her sister’s schemes made her angry, and the words tumbled out before she could stop them. Kitty turned red and filled her lungs in readiness to vent her outrage, but before the invective could begin, Elizabeth stood up and flounced out of the room with even greater theatre than that with which her sister had flounced in. She forgot her book and was obliged to relinquish all imminent hope of finishing it.
Good,she thought bitterly. She was in no mood for happy endings when her own story remained so dismally incomplete.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The carriage rolled along at a snail’s pace, stopping every few minutes for the droves of theatre goers and revellers to pass. It was a hot June evening, and the interior of the carriage was sweltering, making their halting progress even more vexing. They had only a mile and a half to travel; it would unquestionably have been quicker to walk, but walking anywhere was not the done thing in fashionable society, and good sense be damned!
They could not have gone on foot regardless, for Georgiana had already spent too much time and emotion in consideration of her chosen gown for the evening. Trailing her hems through London’s dirty streets was a proposition not likely to have been met with much enthusiasm.
Darcy smiled to himself at the thought that Elizabeth would have insisted upon it. His smile faded as a familiar fog of melancholy rolled in after it. It was a sadness that followed swiftly on the heels of every fond reverie, a bittersweet mix of affection and regret that he was all the better acquainted with on account of how often he thought about Elizabeth. He sighed quietly.
“My hair feels loose. Is it coming out?” his sister asked, anxiously patting her coiffure.
“Of your head?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“Of the pins,” Darcy said to his cousin with a warning look. Lord knew Georgiana was nervous enough without his teasing. To his sister, he replied, “It will only come loose if you keep poking it. Leave it alone. I have told you—you look exceedingly well.”
“Indeed, you do,” Fitzwilliam added more seriously. “Lord Rutherford is a fool if he is not thoroughly enchanted.”
Georgiana looked nervously between them both. “Do you truly like him?”
Fitzwilliam shrugged. “Ask us again at the end of the evening.”
Seeing his sister’s confidence waver, Darcy hastily added, “We would not have agreed to dine with him if we disapproved.”
Georgiana smiled sweetly at him, and he hoped he would not regret his words. If his lordship proved to be a rake after all, Fitzwilliam and he would have to extricate her from the situation with as much expedience and as little contention as possible. He thought it more likely Rutherford would be the same affable fellow both Fitzwilliam and he recalled, but they were nevertheless both on their guard for any hint of disingenuousness. Their close association with Wickham had taught them both what signs to look for.
Rutherford met them in person at the door, bowing over Georgiana’s hand before she had finished taking off her cloak. “Miss Darcy, you look sublime.”
Georgiana blushed deeply but looked pleased.
