“There you are! I thought to ride out with you, but when I woke, you had already gone. Good day, Miss Elizabeth.” He tipped his hat, though he did not dismount.
“I shall ride back to Netherfield with you,” Darcy replied.
Elizabeth could hear both resignation and regret in his voice.Interrupted again,she thought, with wry amusement. “I shall return to Longbourn,” she said aloud. “Good day, gentlemen.” Turning, she walked back down the hill, wondering whether some unseen force had conspired to ensure she and Mr. Darcy would always be interrupted at the most inconvenient moments.
Darcy
Riding back to Netherfield, Bingley suddenly demanded, “What are your intentions toward Miss Elizabeth?” He appeared angry, and his reaction confused Darcy.
“I assure you, my intentions are honorable!” he replied, a touch defensively.
“How can you say that? Have you not always spouted nonsense about duty and honor when choosing a bride?” Bingley rolled his eyes. “Do not tell me you have now changed your long-held opinions.”
“I have…changed them, that is—at least, I have reconsidered them. My time in Hertfordshire has taught me that there are more important things to weigh when selecting a wife. Miss Elizabeth is…vibrant, and I find I cannot do without her.”
Bingley arched a brow. “And does she feel the same?”
“If we ceased getting interrupted, I could answer that.” Darcy gave his friend a pointed scowl. “I have been trying to find a private moment, but inevitably someone intrudes before I can declare my sentiments.”
“So long as you are not trifling with her affections,” Bingley replied, frowning still.
“You seem rather protective of her.”
“I am marrying her sister.”
Darcy laughed. “You have not even proposed yet! Admirable though your intentions may be, they are a touch premature. You know me, Bingley. Would I behave dishonorably with a lady?”
Bingley sighed. “No, you are a man of honor, especially where ladies are concerned. I cannot fault your conduct.” He fell silent, his brow still drawn in thought.
Comprehension dawned. “This is about what we spoke of before, is it not?”
Bingley shrugged. “I do not know—yes, I suppose. I feel protective of Miss Elizabeth. It is not the same as what I feel about her sister. With Miss Elizabeth, it is as though my younger sister is in danger, and I must save her.”
Darcy knew precisely what he meant. “I understand, and shall not abuse your trust.”
The remainder of that day and the one following were consumed with the menial tasks Bingley wished completed before the evening of the ball. They inspected drainage near the lower fields, discussed crop rotations, and rode out to assess which sections of land might best accommodate future plantings. By the time the hour came to dress for the ball, Darcy felt exhausted. Part of him suspected that Bingley had contrived to keep him occupied—perhaps to prevent him from seeking out Miss Elizabeth.
He really ought to resolve his feelings where she is concerned,he thought in amusement.I shall not tolerate such uncertainty when Elizabeth and I are married.
He looked forward to their set that evening, and as he bathed, he contemplated the pleasure her fine eyes brought him whenever they turned in his direction. They always sparkled brightly with mirth, cleverness, challenge, or mischief. He could not say which look he most preferred—perhaps the one that seemed to hold a particular warmth meant only for him.
Careful, man,he cautioned himself.You have no assurance that she feels the same. Do not misinterpret the lady’s feelings.He had always struggled in that regard. Unlike Richard, who possessed an easy confidence in society, Darcy found it difficult to catch the tone of conversation or to understand the subtleties woven into drawing room talk. Socializing left him fatigued, and over time, he had developed a decided aversion to it.
But if she were by my side, it would be no trial. Elizabeth is intelligent enough to manage any barbs or petty slights that might come her way.Yes, she would be a credit to the Darcy name, even if she did not belong to the first circles of society.
As the guests began to arrive, Darcy cast a final glance at his appearance in the mirror one last time before descending the stairs. Thankful that he was not obliged to stand in the receiving line with Bingley and the Hursts, he positioned himself near the ballroom doors—close enough to observe the arrivals and see the moment Elizabeth arrived.
The Longs, the Gouldings, the Lucases…still no Bennets. Darcy waited, barely suppressing his impatience, as one red coat after another entered the hall, followed by two or three more families. At long last, he caught sight of Jane Bennet on the arm of her brother as they stepped into the room.
Mr. Collins and Miss Mary followed behind, and then—he saw his Elizabeth, her gloved hand resting lightly on her father’s arm, Mrs. Bennet on his other. She looked around the room, and Darcy flattered himself that she searched forhim.When their gazes met and her countenance first relaxed, then brightened, he knew he had the right of it.
Pushing away from the wall, he made his way to their side. “Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, how do you do this evening?” He spoke cheerfully, bowing to the trio.
“We are well, sir,” Mr. Bennet replied. “We have looked forward to this evening.”
“I hope you enjoy it,” Darcy said sincerely.
Elizabeth separated from her parents, who drifted toward the Lucases and were quickly engaged in conversation.
