“Well, you must lead the way.” He offered her his arm, and she took it. Together, they meandered through the guests, stopping here and there to greet one of her neighbours, before they finally reached the long table.
It was covered in a white tablecloth and laid with neat rows of seed cake, biscuits, and small jam tarts, alongside crystal dishes filled with preserved cherries and sugared almonds. A bowl of punch stood ready, its scentof nutmeg and citrus rising in the warm air, whilst a footman moved quietly amongst the guests with a tray of small glasses filled with sherry and negus.
“How delightful,” he murmured. “May I make you a plate?”
“That is very kind of you,” She smiled kindly. When their plates were full, they moved to a cozy settee on the side of the room.
“Does Sir William often have so many guests?” he asked as he nibbled on a seed cake.
“He dearly loves to entertain,” Elizabeth replied. “There are more people here than usual, with the addition of the officers.” He watched her gaze wander until it landed on Miss Lucas. Her brow furrowed, and a look of concern appeared on her face.
“Miss Elizabeth?” he asked when the silence stretched. “Are you well?”
“Oh, it is nothing.” She paused and then spoke again. “Tell me, sir, would you encourage a friend or relative to make a prudent marriage if they were close to being on the shelf?”
The question caught him off guard, and he contemplated his reply before speaking. “I believe one cannot have an all-encompassing opinion on such matters,” he said carefully. “My great aunt, Amelia Darcy, never married, but she had a handsome dowry and no need to rely on any man. She was very fond of saying so. I assume we are speaking of Miss Lucas. I do not know the particulars of her situation, but based on your question, I would say she is not so fortunate as my aunt in her dowry.”
“No, Charlotte has only five hundred pounds. She was in love once, but he died in the war. After that, she grew increasingly more desperate. Why, she even expressed an interest in my father once.” Elizabeth shuddered. “That is in the past, thankfully.”
The conversation shifted after that, and Darcy spent an agreeable evening in Miss Elizabeth’s company. He avoided discussing her family, instead asking many questions about her passions, her pursuits, and localsites. Before the evening was out, he knew he had been bewitched by a pair of fine eyes.
Chapter Eighteen
The morning sunlight streamed through Elizabeth’s window as she sat at her dressing table, brushing out her hair and letting her mind wander over the events of the previous evening at Lucas Lodge. It had been a pleasant gathering, filled with music, laughter, and the familiar warmth of friends and neighbours. She had danced twice with Mr Darcy, a circumstance that might have drawn the eyes of many, but Elizabeth found herself untroubled by it.
It was prudent, she reflected, to keep Mr Darcy close, to maintain a pleasant understanding with him. His regard could prove useful, should he indeed suspect something about her family’s circumstances. Besides, she found him diverting company when he chose to converse, his dry observations and reserved manner oddly intriguing. And if she were honest, she liked him well enough, and he was, when he allowed himself to relax, even a little fun.
It was Sunday, and the Bennet family gathered for a quiet morning before church, each engaged in small tasks. Jane was helping Hill with the flowers for the dining table, whilst Kitty and Lydia squabbled over ribbons and bonnets, voices drifting through the corridors in bursts of youthful chatter. Elizabeth could hear Mary practicing a hymn on the pianoforte, her fingers stumbling slightly over the lower notes.
The night before at Lucas Lodge, as they gathered near the fire, Jane proposed a small excursion for the coming week. The talk had turned to theold ruins near Oakham Wood, the remains of a medieval abbey, crumbling stone walls covered in ivy and legend.
“Tuesday would be a fine day for it,” Jane said, her eyes bright with anticipation. “It will be the thirty-first, you know.”
“All Hallows Eve,” Elizabeth remarked with a grin. “What better day to visit a place of ghosts and shadows?”
Jane’s eyes sparkled, her cheeks flushing with excitement. “I should love to see it again. The last time we visited, the roses were in bloom, and it was beautiful even in its decay.”
Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy had agreed to the excursion, and when the ladies had returned to Longbourn, they posed the request to their father. Mr Bennet, looking up from his book, merely raised a brow.
“Ruins, ghosts, and the chill of late October? Sounds delightful. Take two footmen with you,” he said, returning to his reading. “I have no desire to chase away spectres myself.”
Lydia, sitting cross-legged on a footstool, sighed dramatically. “It sounds ever so romantic. I wish I might come along and see the ruins! But I suppose I am too young for such adventures.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly, reaching over to pat Lydia’s shoulder. “Perhaps another time, dear.”
Jane’s excitement grew as Tuesday approached, and on Monday morning, she received a small, neatly folded note, which she opened with trembling fingers and a shy smile.
“It is from Mr Bingley,” she said softly, eyes warm. “He asks if Miss Bingley and the Hursts might accompany us on our outing.”
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Jane, her lips twitching. “I see Mr Bingley is eager to share the delights of ruin-hunting with all his party. Very well, we shall be hospitable, though I imagine Miss Bingley will not find much to admire in moss-covered stones and chilly breezes.”
Jane pressed the note to her chest, the happiness in her expression undeniable, and Elizabeth felt a warm glow of satisfaction for her sister’s joy, even as she herself considered what the day might bring.
Perhaps it was fitting to walk amongst ruins on All Hallows Eve, when the air was filled with whispers of the past and the veil between the present and what came before felt so very thin.
And perhaps, Elizabeth thought as she glanced out the window at the rustling leaves, it was a fine day indeed to keep Mr Darcy close, and to learn what sort of man he truly was.
Miss Bingley continued to glance coyly at him as the carriage trundled towards Longbourn. The Hursts were in their own conveyance, pulled by horses from Bingley’s stables—essential, given the additions to the party. After the agreeable evening at Lucas Lodge, Darcy had looked forward to spending more time in Elizabeth’s company, basking in her wit and intelligent conversation. Unfortunately, he would now have to deal with Miss Bingley’s proprietary tendencies.
