“It is likely,” the gentleman agreed.
“I will expect an invitation to dinner, then. Something intimate, so that I may come to know Mrs Darcy better.” He gave a little bow in Elizabeth's direction. He clapped Darcy on the shoulder and murmured, so low that only Darcy and Elizabeth could hear, “Your friends are with you.” He farewelled them all then and continued on his way, leaving Bingley and Jane to marvel at having met the scion of a duke, and Elizabeth to wonder pleasantly at the statement the young man had made by speaking so happily with them before all and sundry.
This was, unfortunately, to prove to have been the high point of the outing. The chatter and blatant observation of their party did not cease, or even perceptibly decrease, and now that one person had approached, others felt able to do so. Some were pleasant, it was true, and some merely curious, but neither was there a shortage of those willing to advance rude comments veiled as compliments or ask impertinent questions. These, Elizabeth felt she could not answer as she would have liked; Lady Matlock had impressed upon her that her task today was to display every characteristic that would sit ill upon the brazen fortune-hunter she had been painted as: modesty, restraint, gentility, and forbearance. So she gritted her teeth as she smiled and said only sweet, pleasant things, and cast her gaze bashfully downwards that none might see the annoyance simmering in her eyes.
As for those who ostentatiously turned their backs as the party approached, Elizabeth could laugh inwardly and be glad that she need not interact with them. A few others spoke of Elizabeth in carrying voices, without having the courage to voice their insults face to face. These, thought Elizabeth, seemed to irritate Darcy more than those willing to openly question his choice, and his face took on a thunderous aspect whenever one of those comments carried their way, until with a clear effort of will, he smoothed his expression and returned his attention to her.
“I am glad they are so focussed on me,” she confided, when he quietly asked how she was holding up under the barrage of curiosity and scorn. “I am not at all concerned for myself, but for you and Georgiana, and Jane and Bingley. If my sister and your friend can escape the tumult, and I can demonstrate that I have not ‘captured’ you by underhanded means, perhaps the tide of gossip shall turn. Mayhap your cousin might even come to accept our union.”
“What matters most to me is the happiness I find with you,” he replied, his voice strong and sure. “Those who wish to see can recognise the truth. Every kind of partnership has its risks whether one weds for love, wealth, or family connexions, as my family is well aware.”
She smiled up at him and opened her mouth to reply when a lady’s exclamation cut through the air. “My word, I should never leave the house again were I so marked!” cried a very pretty young woman in a fine green gown and matching parasol. Her eyes were fixed upon Jane with an expression of affected horror. “What can she mean by it?”
Elizabeth turned immediately to her sister, and found her pale and struggling for composure. Bingley’s hand rested over Jane’s upon his arm, and he lost no time in leaning over to speak into her ear. Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to go to her and shield her from the eyes of the crowd, or to run up to that malicious miss and give her the sharp side of her tongue, but she could do neither. They were on a stage of sorts, and must cleave to their roles and their appointed lines. Deliberately, she turned to Darcy and put a pleasant smile upon her face.
“Who,” she asked very quietly, “was that?”
“Miss Arbuthnot,” Darcy replied, in much the same tone as he might have mentioned Wickham.
“I hope,” Elizabeth answered, still smiling, “that she does not expect to be received at Darcy House when I am mistress there.”
The look of pride and love he bestowed upon her caused several nearby conversations to stutter to a halt. Elizabeth’s smile then became genuine, and glancing back, she was satisfied to see that the colour had returned to Jane’s cheeks, and that she was smiling at something Bingley was saying. Elizabeth could not stop these people from speaking as they would, but neither would she be required to be more than civil to anyone who chose to belittle her or her dear sister. The man beside her, who would soon be her husband, would not expect or want it. Knowing this, she felt herself falling even more in love with him.
In the privacy of their shared chamber in Gracechurch Street that night, Jane would weep at the cruelty and thoughtlessness of those who were supposed to display the best of manners—all begun by the malicious lies of her beloved’s very own sister!—and Elizabeth was at last able to be of use and comfort to her. But Elizabeth’s confidence and Jane’s optimism—bolstered by that early encounter with Lord John—that London was not devoid of their supporters was soon proved true. In the following days both Darcy and Bingley each received notes and calls from several of their acquaintance wishing them happy and requesting an introduction to their ladies when convenient.
* * *
Several days later, Bingley called upon his betrothed in a state of happy agitation, and requested to speak with her in private. Mrs Gardiner allowed them a quarter hour with the door ajar, and when she and Elizabeth had left the room, he turned to Jane with an odd expression of mixed delight and anxiety.
“My dear Jane,” he said, nearly vibrating with excitement. “I have been attempting to arrange a very special wedding trip, but until this morning it did not seem as though it would come to fruition. If you like—and I will not be angry if you do not wish to be from home for so long—we may go…to India!”
She gasped, her hands coming to her mouth. “Oh my!” she cried, her head spinning. “Does it not take half a year to get there?”
“By the usual routes, yes, but with good winds we might make it in as little as twelve weeks if, rather than going around all of Africa, we instead sail through the Mediterranean, pass overland and by river through Mesopotamia, and thence sail to India by way of the Arabian Sea. I thought we might plan to be away for as much as a year.”
“Can you leave Netherfield and all your other business for so long?”
He grinned. “The steward is a competent fellow, and I hope your father would agree to sit with him from time to time. I spoke to Darcy and your uncle when the idea first came to me, and between them they are willing to look after my business interests for a time. Louisa could visit our relations, engage a companion, or come with us.”
“You have thought of everything.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I should very much like to go to India with you, Charles.”
“Ha!” he exclaimed joyously, picking her up by the waist and spinning them both about, before returning her to the ground only to plant a firm kiss on her lips. “Such sights we shall see, my love!”
* * *
“I feel rather dull and stodgy now,” Darcy murmured to Elizabeth later that day, not long after Charles and Jane had shared their plans with the family. “For I have only planned to take you to the Lakes and thence, Pemberley.”
“And that sounds entirely delightful to me,” Elizabeth replied firmly, “as I long to see both of those places! Jane’s grand adventure shall be India in the autumn, while mine will be London in the spring.”
At the thought of attending the Season, he grimaced. “Travelling halfway across the globe suddenly sounds rather appealing.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Come now, most of the reason you hated the Season was the relentless pursuit of your name and fortune without any regard to yourself. As a married man, you will be safe, and might actually enjoy the activities.”
“I do look forward to attending the theatre and concerts with you,” he allowed. “But I am concerned about your reception, given the gossip Miss Bingley’s coterie has launched. And I dread the crowded balls and insipid dinner parties.”
“You are going to be positively miserable the following year, when Georgiana makes her come-out and we must attend something almost every night, are you not?”
He groaned. “Do not remind me!”
