“No,” he said.
“It is true, though. Richard married her.”
Mr. Darcy sighed.
“It is!” Georgiana exclaimed. “That is extraordinary, is it not?”
He sighed again.
Elizabeth, he noted, was quite absent from breakfast. He told himself not to go looking for her afterwards, to focus on Georgiana.
To this end, he forced himself to make some introductions for his sister, but she seemed to have been introduced to everyone already.
“Yes, Mr. Houseman was good enough to conduct the introductions,” said Georgiana, smiling. “He is ever so kind, truly.”
Hmm. Darcy remembered that he was meant to speak to Houseman, or that he and Elizabeth were meant to do it together, perhaps. He wasn’t sure about the particulars.
He could have sought Houseman out, he supposed, but—not to his credit—he decided he liked having an excuse to do something with Elizabeth, the both of them together.
He told himself that he had done nothing wrong. Yes, perhaps, he and his cousin’s wife had engaged in a few conversations that were not strictly proper in every way, but they had not actually touched or done anything even remotely untoward. Mr. Darcy would never do such a thing, after all.
He resolved he would not even think anything untoward about his cousin’s wife. He would certainly not think about touching her, or kissing her, or… anything else.
Now that he resolved not to think of this, of course, it seemed he could think of nothing else.
Everything was agony, he thought.
When Elizabeth appeared, later in the morning, her face flushed with color, he again thought of the time she had cometo Netherfield with muddy skirts, when he had first noticed the woman’s bright eyes.
He scolded himself.
But he also wished to speak to her. However, he did not wish to be noticeable about it.
He waited until he noticed that she was making her way over to one of the tables set up outdoors, where there were glasses of lemonade and more of that wine punch that had felled Caroline the day before. He casually got up and went to the table as well.
He stood on the opposite side, looking at the glasses, not at her. “I am unsure if we are meant to speak to Houseman together today or not.”
She came around the table to stand next to him. “Actually, I have ever so much to share with you. I spoke to the duke this morning. I ran into him on a morning walk.”
“You and your walks,” he said fondly, smiling gently at her. “You are one for walking, are you not?”
“I suppose,” she said, smiling at him. “I suppose you are not one for walks?”
“I could be,” he said. “I could quite be one for walks, especially with good company.” Oh, dear, was he flirting with her?
Stop flirting with your cousin’s wife this instant!he scolded himself.
She gave him a pointed look. “Now, sir, I think it is you who are saying things you oughtn’t say.”
“Apologies,” he said, selecting a glass of lemonade.
She took one, too.
Their fingers brushed.
Both of them recoiled.
They looked out over the gathered area, not at each other.
