“Do you also read Coleridge or Smith? My library’s poetry collection has grown considerably since Georgiana turned fourteen. She developed an avid interest, and, as a good brother should, I acquired as many volumes as I could so that we might study the differing styles together.”
“You are an attentive brother, then?” Her interest in the conversation no longer felt forced or feigned. Mr. Wickham had claimed Miss Darcy to be proud—much like her brother. Yet now Elizabeth beheld a different side of him. Could she have also been misled about his sister? Or was she, perhaps, deceived by his new behavior?
“My sister is exceedingly shy. We are all the other has, having lost both our parents. My mother died when Georgiana was five, and our father when she was eleven. I have had the raising of her since I inherited. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, shares the guardianship. I am, I suppose, what one would call an attentive brother, though I do so from affection, not obligation.” He paused, his gaze drifting toward Jane and Mr. Bingley. “Your sister reminds me greatly of my own. I almost did not see it.”
She wondered at his meaning, but did not ask. Their conversation continued for some time until carriages were called to return guests to their homes.
Later, as she lay alone in her bed, Elizabeth reflected upon the evening and realized she had not enjoyed such agreeable discourse with a gentleman in quite some time.
Darcy
The journey back to Netherfield Park was not long. Darcy allowed Bingley to speak of the evening, content to listen and contemplate his own experience. Twice, he had overheard remarks made in reference tohimself.On both occasions, the subject had been his altered behavior, which was said to have changed overnight. In a sense, it had.
They speculated as to the cause, and, curiously enough, his altered demeanor was attributed, by both speakers, to the absence of Miss Bingley. The supposition amused him, and he could not deny the logic. Better still, it seemed the denizens of the neighborhood had resolved to give him a fair chance to prove himself. He did not intend to disappoint them.
He acknowledged that it was his own behavior that had most likely earned Elizabeth’s firm dislike. If he could change—truly, and not superficially—then perhaps she might grow to like him. Her manner already appeared somewhat gentled. Their conversation that evening had been stimulating and agreeable. The usual challenging look he often saw in her eyes had given way to one of interest. Their discussion of poetry had reminded him of similar ones with Georgiana, though Elizabeth’s insights were shaped by experience and perspective.
Still, something in her manner made him believe she did not yet fully trust him. She held back; her speech and bearing were more open with her friends and other neighbors. While she hadmoved around the room, she had appeared perfectly at ease, but by the window, when they conversed, he had observed a certain tenseness in her posture. Was it discomfort, or something else? Whatever it was, he wished it gone.
Though his original motives had begun as an attempt to alterheropinion, Darcy now desired improvement for his own sake. Men of his station were accustomed to looking down upon others. Such had been his behavior for many years. He now understood that he had long acted with selfish disdain for the feelings of those around him, and that the pride he had once considered justifiable had, in truth, been excessive. He would improve.
He had made every effort since his return to Hertfordshire. After a fortnight, the residents were only beginning to show him greater civility.
His last thought, as he drifted to sleep, brought him comfort.If I can win their good opinion, then I can also win hers.
Chapter Four
December 24, 1811
Haye Park
Darcy
Inthedaysleadingup to Christmas Eve at Haye Park, Darcy saw Elizabeth almost daily. Bingley, an attentive suitor, called upon Miss Bennet whenever he was able. On occasion, business matters kept the gentlemen at Netherfield, but they called at Longbourn at least four times each week. Evenings were spent either in the calm of Netherfield’s library or in company at one of the neighboring estates. Darcy soon came to know the four-and-twenty families very well, and he found himself pleased with the acquaintances both made and deepened.
Darcy noticed a difference in Elizabeth’s manner toward him; she was still not entirely easy, yet no longer marked byresistance. Her arch glances and pert opinions remained, much to his relief, but the subtle antagonism she had once directed at him seemed to have vanished. Their conversations remained stimulating and lively—at least in his estimation.
The evening at Haye Park promised to be agreeable. Darcy had it directly from Mr. Long that there would be dancing and party games as part of the entertainment. While he had avoided such activities in the past, he longed to ask Elizabeth to stand up with him. Their dance at the Netherfield Ball had not unfolded at all how he had imagined, and he wished for more pleasant memories on which to dwell.
“I have never attended a soiree on Christmas Eve.” Bingley strolled into the library where Darcy sat waiting for him. His cravat was tied in an elaborate knot, and his garnet pin caught the light from both fire and candle. “If it proves enjoyable, perhaps I shall make it a tradition in my own household.” His attire was impeccable, more formal and carefully arranged than Darcy recalled ever seeing him wear. Darcy’s own ensemble, fashioned by one of London’s finest tailors, appeared subdued by comparison.
“With Miss Bennet, I presume?” he asked. “Tell me, Bingley, have you proposed to her yet? After every gathering, I half expect to hear you have done it, yet there is no word.” His lips curved with dry amusement before he rose to pour a glass of port from the decanter.
“I am more certain of my path than ever, Darcy. She is an angel—truly! I intend to propose tonight if I can steal her away for a private word. Will you help me?” Bingley turned imploring eyes on him, and Darcy was quick to accede to his wish.
“Yes, of course. I dare say there will be ample opportunities throughout the evening.”
Their carriage was soon ready, and both gentlemen prepared to depart. Darcy gave himself a final critical look in the mirroras he donned his coat and hat and nodded once, satisfied with his appearance. His valet had starched and folded his cravat in the Mathematical, a tight, structured and exacting knot. Symmetrical and stiff, it required proper starch to achieve correctly. The knot conveyed precision, intellect, and formality. He briefly wondered if he ought to have requested the Ballroom knot instead. That one was more pliant, tied looser and therefore ideal for dancing, with graceful folds and trailing ends, suggesting ease and charm. The Mathematical knot certainly suited his nature, but perhaps he should begin to appear better relaxed in company. He was no dandy to chase the fashions of the day, preferring practicality to ornament, but he took care that his attire reflected credit upon his name and station.
He longed to know what Elizabeth thought of him—whether her opinion had improved. How was one to discover if it was so? Could her friend, Miss Lucas, offer him some insight? To ask her outright would be most awkward, however, for he had but a slight acquaintance with her.
I need a Christmas miracle,he thought, rather dismally, as he climbed into the carriage.Perhaps an opportunity will present itself this evening.
The journey to Haye Park was brief, and soon Darcy and Bingley were ushered into the warmth of the drawing room. The Bennets had already arrived and were scattered about. Miss Bennet welcomed her suitor as he greeted her with an ebullient smile. Miss Mary, the middle sister, was seated at the pianoforte, playing tender arrangements of Christmas carols. The two youngest, Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia, were whispering in a corner with Miss Maria Lucas, erupting in frequent giggles as they typically did. Desperately, he scanned the company, but Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.
Darcy’s spirits dipped, but he resolved to make his rounds and greet the other guests. Surely, she would appear before long.He made his way through the room, offering polite greetings to everyone until he came upon Miss Lucas.
“Good evening,” he said, nodding with civility. “How do you do, Miss Lucas?”
