Caroline barely managed to suppress a scream but could not prevent her foot’s incessant tapping on the floor. “May we presume it was herfine eyesthat drew you in?”
“No. It was most definitely thecertain something in her manner of walkingthat tempted me. I thank you for bringing it to my attention. Bingley, I see Fitzwilliam’s carriage awaits him. Do not trouble yourself. We shall see him off.”
After a hasty farewell between Charles and the colonel, the trio left the room. In the supervening silence, Caroline had, of all things, a tray of smoked fish shoved under her nose. She looked up into Peabody’s bored countenance.
“Herring, ma’am?”
Her plate cleaved in two when she threw her knife down upon it, though the noise was drowned when the howl of frustration that had been building since she first met Eliza Bennet at last found its release.
Longbourn
13thJune
To Miss Georgiana Darcy,
I hope this letter finds you well.
Your brother tells me he has received a letter from you with your congratulations. I may say your blessing pleased him very well, and I thank you for myself for your heartfelt acceptance of our betrothal.
Pray, be not angry with him when I tell you he also relayed some other of your sentiments. I should not like to wait until we meet to allay those anxieties, and thus I have determined to write to you that you may know me a little better and see why you have absolutely no cause to be apprehensive.
Forget at once everything your brother has told you. His account of me is grossly inaccurate. He may have said my playing gives him great pleasure, but he neglected to mention that is only because there is such teasing to be made of my clumsy recitals. Much though I enjoy the pianoforte, I practice too little to play well. I have no superior talent for dancing, other than being practised at compensating for heavy-footed partners—your brother excepted. My style of dress, which he has proclaimed elegant, is in truth my eldest sister Jane’s outmoded style from last season, unpicked and remade with a little embellishment.
My beauty I shall not decry. I am quite content to remain the most beautiful woman in the world for the short time until you meet me and see for yourself how your brother has exaggeratedthatfact.
As to any comparison between you and my sisters, allow me to put your mind at rest. I have four. One is lively and obstreperous, one is silly and inconstant, one is serious and exacting, and one is impressionable and diffident. I love them all dearly. I myself tend towards obstinacy and impertinence, but the least said of that the better. I am quite sure that, whatever your nature, it will neither shock nor displease me. Your brother has made me so blissfully happy, there is but one thing that could add to my joy, and that is becoming acquainted with his beloved sister.
I will only add, thank you for looking after him these past weeks. Wemade a fudge of coming to an understanding, and it lightens my heart to know he has not been without comfort. That alone endears you to me more than any of the accomplishments lauded by your brother, aunt, cousin or friends, which you are too modest to own. We have in common our affection for a wonderful man, and that is enough to convince me we shall be the very closest of sisters and the very best of friends. I wait impatiently—another of my vices—until we meet.
Yours in anticipation,
Miss Elizabeth (Lizzy) Bennet
Sunday 14 June 1812, Hertfordshire
A flurry of letters had been sent out in the days following Elizabeth and Darcy’s engagement, most of them from Mrs Bennet to every person in the country with whom she could claim a connection, though one or two were from the happy couple themselves. Elizabeth knew not what Darcy had said in his letter to Lady Catherine, but he had finished it long before she finished hers to Mrs Gardiner; thus, she assumed his message was to the purpose. His letter to Lord Matlock took little longer, but that to his sister must have been more effusive, for four sides of paper were insufficient to contain all her delight when she replied.
Elizabeth’s letter to Miss Darcy was the last to be delivered, and whilst everybody else milled about outside the church after the service, she pulled Darcy aside to give it to him. He stood close with his head tilted down, ostensibly that they could speak confidentially, though she wondered whether, in truth, he were tempted to kiss her. She hoped so.
“This is for your sister. I do not have the address. Pray, would you send it for me?”
“Gladly. She will be delighted.”
“’Tis nothing. She is very sweet to be so anxious to please me. I rather think it ought to be the reverse.”
“She will not be displeased with you. I have assured her of as much.”
“That is precisely what has made her nervous. You have paintedme with Aphrodite’s looks, the queen’s wardrobe and accomplishments to make even Miss Bingley jealous.”
Darcy slipped the letter into his coat and looked at her intently. “You make me nervous for all those reasons. I do not see why I should suffer alone.”
She scoffed at the notion, recalling the countless occasions she had been discomfited by his penetrating stare. “Ido not makeyounervous, Fitzwilliam.”
His gaze darkened. “Oh, you do.”
She blushed but nonetheless enjoyed the compliment. “Very well. I suppose my good qualities are under your protection now. I give you leave to exaggerate them as much as possible—only not to your poor sister.”
Darcy conceded with a small nod and indulgent smile.
