With her gaze also aimed towards the crowd, Elizabeth said, “I thank you for being so kind to him.”
“It began as kindness,” he said. “But if he has managed to build such a fortune from such small stakes, I think it will only redound to my benefit. I had already intended to meet him in town, and perhaps invest with him, but now I am positively determined.”
“Really? You would meet him in town?”
The look of heartfelt delight that Elizabeth gave him took Darcy’s breath away. “Is it so surprising? He evidently has a talent for making money, and in these uncertain times, he may well soon have a line outside of his door.”
“He does have a talent,” Elizabeth agreed, “but his connexions will always hinder him. Most men of better society will not speak to him.”
“Stupid of them,” Darcy remarked. “And stupid of me to have once been just like them. Thankfully, I have recently had occasion to see the error of my ways.”
She looked at him quickly, then just as quickly dropped her gaze, her colour rising.
“Forgive me,” Darcy said in a low voice. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”
She shook her head and said softly, “I am embarrassed by the things I said to you that night. I should have done better to hold my tongue.”
“I do not agree. It seems I needed to hear those things, and who better than to hear it from than one I hold in such esteem.”
After another quick peep at his face, she said, “I should think you would despise me.”
“I was angry, at first,” he admitted, “but my deep regard for you would not let it remain.”
“Pray take heed, sir,” she said with a light laugh. “Too much of that and I shall have to conclude that you have lost your resentful temper.”
He smiled down at her. “Having a resentful temper is nothing to boast of, to be sure, and I should not have. But you must know by now which person I spoke of that day and what specific circumstances plagued me.”
It took her a moment to recognise it. “Oh, you spoke of?—”
With a quick glance about them, he said, “Wickham.”
“I had not before considered,” she said slowly, “how very recent those events must have been to the time when you were first here.”
“’Twas the first week in September,” he told her in low tones. “Georgiana had been there about a month.”
Elizabeth looked up, her eyes searching his face, but what she might have said would be lost.
“Is not this cosy!” Miss Bingley exclaimed as she inserted herself into their tête-à-tête. “Miss Eliza, you are wanted by your dear mother. It seems a bridal emergency has arisen and only you can answer for the solution.”
Both Darcy and Elizabeth looked over to where Mrs Bennet was smiling and talking among a group of matrons. She did not seem to be in any way concerned for anything, wedding or otherwise, but Miss Bingley was determined. She had wound her arm through Elizabeth’s and appeared willing to yank her from the space where she stood, by force if necessary. Elizabeth looked up at Darcy again and offered only the faintest smile before curtseying and asking him to excuse her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Darcy had arrived in Hertfordshire, he had been made aware of seven planned engagements. Two of them, the evening at the Robinsons’ and the assembly, had been wasted by his own reticence. But the dinner at the Simpsons’? That one he had no idea about.
What he did know was that if there was to be an open door, it had opened last evening when he told Elizabeth he still held her in dear regard. Even that was not what he truly wished to say, which was that no matter what had gone between them, his love held true. That, he knew, he must show her.
Four events remained—a picnic, a ball, and a family dinner at Netherfield, and then the wedding and wedding breakfast. Beyond that, he had no expectation to remain in Hertfordshire.
“Four days to make her understand I love her and for her to have feeling enough to accept another proposal.” He nodded grimly at his reflection in the mirror, grateful Fields was not there to witness him talking to himself.
The servants, led by Mrs Nicholls and Miss Bingley, had set up the picnic just beyond the maze on a shady spot overlooking the winding countryside and, at some distance, the river. It was a lovely view, with the gently rolling countryside stretched outlike a patchwork quilt, dotted with trees and the occasional stone cottage.
Darcy had arrived early, but many guests were already there. Alas, the guest he was most interested in was not, and so he paused briefly at a distance, pretending to admire the brightly coloured fabrics and paper lanterns that were hung from the trees and the sounds of the small group of musicians who were set up on one end.
He had been watching for the Bennets’ carriage but Elizabeth appeared, suddenly, with only her eldest sister, and Darcy realised Bingley must have sent his carriage for them. The two ladies were descended upon immediately, the guests surging towards them to kiss Miss Bennet and hug Elizabeth and chatter happily about how soon the wedding was. Determined to join the group, he strode towards them, frowning when he saw his cousin approaching her as well.Never mind him.
He greeted the bride first and then turned to her sister. “Miss Elizabeth, how do you do,” he said, bowing to her. Fitzwilliam, close beside him, echoed his salutations.
