Elizabeth shook her head. “No. All this speculation, people’s fascination with us, is nothing more than a glamour. It will blow over, and afterwards, I shall still be Lizzy Bennet of Longbourn, with barely a penny to my name, a few less-than-ideal connexions, and four unmarried sisters. And Mr Darcy will still be a single man in possession of a good fortune, in want of a more suitable wife than me.”
Charlotte regarded her steadily. “Your opinion has altered rather radically. If I had asked you that question when I last saw you in December, you would have been sure to censure his pride.”
“In December, I was blind, impartial, prejudiced, and absurd. Do you recall that you warned me not to allow my fancy for Mr Wickham to colour my view of Mr Darcy?”
“Yes.”
“You were more right than you knew.” Elizabeth relayed to her friend everything she had learnt of Mr Wickham’s misdeeds and Mr Darcy’s endeavours to reimburse and support those affected.
“But you could not have known that about either gentleman,” Charlotte rallied. “Neither of them was particularly forthcoming with the truth.”
Elizabeth scoffed. “I might have made a better judgment than I did, had I not been flattered by the attentions of one and mortified by the disinterest of the other.” How much trouble she would have saved herself if she had only kept in mind Mr Darcy’s first words to her—or rather about her.‘She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me.’He was consistent, at least, for he had held staunchly to that principle!
Looking at her friend, Elizabeth perceived none of the shock that Jane had betrayed upon hearing the same information about Mr Wickham. “You are not surprised to learn this about either man, are you? My astute, sensible friend.”
Charlotte smiled modestly. “As you say, it is much easier to remain clear-sighted when one has been neither charmed nor insulted. And I can claim no peculiar insight into either. I had not guessed that Mr Wickham was this depraved, and neither had I supposed Mr Darcy capable of such generosity.”
“Oh, he is capable of that and so much more. He has shown himself to be trustworthy, obliging, patient—he is admired by everyone who knows him. He is an excellent brother and loyal friend.” He was also tall, strong, and unreasonably handsome, but Elizabeth feared she would give too much away if she admitted that.
It seemed that she had given too much away regardless, for Charlotte narrowed her eyes and asked, “And, if hewereto ask you for your hand, what would you say?”
“He is not going to ask. But enough about me. You must tell me everything about your new life here. You look very well settled.”
Elizabeth was under no illusion that the matter would be dropped permanently, but Charlotte’s eagerness to exhibit her new situation was sufficient to allow a temporary reprieve. Hearing them move about, Mr Collins soon joined them and was at pains to point out every advantage of the house, not least its proximity to Rosings Park. The mention of Darcy’s aunt might have prompted Elizabeth to think of him had she not been doing so already. The truth was, she could attend to little else, and for the next several days, he was rarely far from her thoughts.
What his impression must be of their encounter at the inn was a question on which she dwelt with particular anxiety. She had done herself no favours, sprawling over him like a strumpet intent on seduction; but he had, as usual, treated her with nothing but kindness. She almost wished hehadgot angry, for his unwavering solicitude made it torturously difficult not to cling to the hope that her affections might one day be returned—as did his assertion of not despising her.‘Nothing could be further from the truth.’Her rational mind maintained that it had merely been the gentlemanly thing for him to say at an awkward moment. Her heart whispered that it meant something else entirely.
On some mornings, she awoke regretting not remaining in London to see whether he would declare himself at last. By the end of every day, she had remembered why it was a hopeless case, and the other reason why she had left town. It had been Mrs Randall at the inn with Mr Bingley, not her mother. Which meant that either Mrs Bennet was sharing her lover, or had found a new one, or had never had one. Whatever the explanation, she had not returned home and did not seem inclined to do so at any time in the immediate future. Themarriage of Mr and Mrs Bennet was seemingly over, and the truth of it could not remain secret for much longer. Once it was publicly known, Elizabeth and all her sisters must share in their mother’s ruin and disgrace.
Unable to bear the shame of it any more, she had written to her father with Mrs Randall’s new address and relinquished all onus for the matter into his hands, where it ought to have been from the start. She was bone-weary of the whole business and in dire need of the sanctuary of her friend’s Kentish retreat. Between the delightful spring walks around the park and Charlotte’s pragmatic, even-tempered company, she was able to forget, for the time being, the imbroglio she had left behind in London. She did not even try to stop herself thinking about Darcy. She had never before loved anyone in the way she loved him, and that, she had no wish to forget.
30
A RAPPROCHEMENT OF SORTS
Darcy heard his sister in the hall, talking to Mrs Annesley, and forced himself to continue staring at his newspaper, determined to reveal no hint of his discomposure. Georgiana had already seen too much of it in his behaviour that day and clearly been unnerved by it. More than ten years her senior, he was more of a father to her than a brother. It must have been vastly disturbing when he appeared at her door an hour earlier, insisting that she call on Elizabeth and adamant that he would wait in her sitting room for her return. After her initial surprise, however, she had seemed to comprehend his predicament. She had left with a gentle smile and a promise to make a friend of Elizabeth if she could.
He had tortured himself over the decision of whether or not to go to Gracechurch Street himself. He had settled on this approach for fear that Elizabeth might yet dislike him. Yes, she had sought his comfort, but being frightened and feeling an affection for someone were two very different things. By his calculation, there was still a high chance that she would not wish to see him, in which case, he would not impose his presence upon her merely to satisfy his own desire to see her. That wassomething he would have done before Elizabeth taught him how a true gentleman ought to behave.
It was a shame she had not taught him any lessons in patience, for Georgiana took an absolute age to remove her coat and bonnet and change her shoes and have a chat with the housekeeper about the devil knew what. Darcy was nearly out of his mind by the time she came into the sitting room.
“I am returned!”
He lowered his newspaper, feeling sick with anticipation. “What was your success?”
“She was not there. She has gone to Kent.”
It was all Darcy could do to keep his countenance.
“But her sister and aunt were very welcoming,” his sister continued. “They said Miss Elizabeth would be sorry to have missed me, which I thought was kind.”
“They are both exceedingly kind ladies. I am glad you liked them. Was anything else said of Miss Elizabeth’s state of mind? Whether she was distressed by recent events?”
“No, only that they hoped her departure would allow people to forget the recent speculation about you both.”
The prospect that Elizabeth wished to forget him drove a spike of misery right through him. He averted his eyes from Georgiana’s earnest gaze, for it only made everything feel worse. In the periphery of his vision, he saw her slide into the nearest chair, from which she continued to regard him.
“May I ask you a question, Brother?”
