“I would like to invite you and your family to supper at Darcy House, two days hence.” Miss Darcy offered a written invitation in her outstretched hand.
“Thank you. I think I can speak for my family”—she glanced at her grandmother for approval—“that we have no prior engagements and will look forward to the event with pleasure.”
When the guests had left, Elizabeth was capable of considering the last half hour with satisfaction yet desirous of avoiding anyenquiries or hints regarding her present state, so she hastened to her room.
#
The gibbous moon shone brightly when Elizabeth alighted from the carriage in front of the Darcys’ residence. It was a charming house of grandeur, elegance, fashion, and taste, overlooking the picturesque garden square. The butler received them in the entrance hall, and they were divested of their cloaks, hats, and greatcoats.
Mr and Miss Darcy greeted them, accompanied by a colonel in His Majesty’s Army, who was introduced as a younger son of their uncle, Lord Matlock. Colonel Fitzwilliam was about thirty, not handsome, but as Elizabeth soon discovered, he was in person and address a true gentleman. He entered directly into conversation with the readiness and hospitality of a well-bred man, which put Elizabeth at ease.
“Pray, tell me—as I am guessing you are the poor, defeated cousin who lost the tree-climbing competition three years in a row—has Mr Darcy perjured himself, boasting about his youthful peccadillos, or does his tale have merit?”
The colonel grinned and offered Elizabeth his arm, which she took with a playful glance at Mr Darcy. “Dear Miss Elizabeth, his exploits, I assure you, have been grossly exaggerated. Although there is an element of truth to it, it was by no means a laudable feat. You see, Darcy here was an exceptionally tall and awkward fellow, even at eight years of age. He was all arms and legs, and a head taller than me. He reached the lowest branch of the tree with ease, whilst I suffered the indignity of jumping in an effort to claim it. Needless to say, he succeeded long before I did,” the colonel admitted unabashedly whilst escorting her down a hall.
“I have heard that there was a third opponent.”
“Oh yes, my brother, Viscount Crawford, who was then twelve, already at Eton, and much too dignified to engage in childish pursuits. I dare say he did not even attempt it.”
“What happened during the fourth year of the competition? The year he lost.”
Elizabeth was so engrossed in the conversation that she barely noticed they had entered a room where the Bingleys and Hursts were already in attendance.
“He had turned twelve and had grown into a great lubberly fellow, though his excuse was the same as my brother’s—cowardly claiming that Eton boys did not climb trees, which is clearly not the case. I managed it for two years without shedding an ounce of my dignity.”
“Very true, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I cannot see why tree climbing is regarded as less admirable than wielding a sword or fisticuffs.”
“A lady has never spoken truer words, Miss Elizabeth.”
The good colonel had led her to the dining table and pulled out her chair. Only when Elizabeth sat down did she notice that she was seated on Mr Darcy’s right.
#
“I am sorry you had to partner with that disagreeable gentleman through an entire meal,” the eldest Mrs Bennet whispered in her ear as soon as the ladies had withdrawn.
Her grandmother’s playful nonsense had ceased to amuse her and had become rather wearisome to her equilibrium.
“It was of no concern to me. We spoke of paintings, poetry, theology, geology, and the war. Mr Darcy appears to be both worldly and reflective,” she said, defending the gentleman.
Mrs Bennet’s wry and knowing smile caused Elizabeth to flee her side, and very soon, the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room. She felt an irresistible attraction, like a tingling through her frame, to move closer to Mr Darcy, who was speaking animatedly to his cousin, but Miss Bingley’s unsought presence intercepted her halfway across the room.
“I hear your father will soon be appointed the new Earl of Glentworth.”
Elizabeth nodded wearily.
“I suppose the title does not come with property.”
“Then you would be mistaken.”
“How wonderful! How soon will your family remove to Ireland?”
“I suspect never. My father hates to travel, and apart from a respite at Longbourn during the most sweltering summer months, we are to reside in town. And as we are neighbours, and my sister is soon to marry your brother, I expect we shall see much of each other in the future.”
“Music!” Miss Bingley cried and turned away. “I simply must have the pleasure of hearing you play the pianoforte, Miss Darcy. I have never heard anyone quite so accomplished.”
Miss Darcy blanched, her eyes flitted about the room, and she appeared unequal to even forming a reply. Her brother was trying to give her encouragement through a comforting look, but Miss Darcy’s eyes were turned to the floor.
Elizabeth approached her and gently took her arm, which startled the stricken girl. She led her to the pianoforte, and they sat with their backs to the company. “Pretend it is only me present, and I am very easily pleased. We may play a duet if you like—if you can tolerate my fudging and slurring. Or I couldsing—that will certainly make everyone cover their ears.” She laughed in mock resignation and feigned indifference.
