F
Chapter Five
Elizabeth read F’s most recent letter in the drawing room while her aunt and sister talked by the fireplace. She had replied to him yesterday afternoon and would receive a reply tomorrow morning, or possibly even tonight. He was a reliable correspondent, and yet she was impatient to hear from him.
Her new friend seemed not quite solitary, but not one to enjoy a crowded room, either. He was not shy, but would probably prefer a quiet evening with a few friends rather than a lively party with strangers. For herself, she saw the value in both. She wanted to engage with the world and could mix with strangers, but she needed moments alone for introspection and to regain her spirits to be sociable once again. For all her friendliness, there were few people she truly loved, and F appeared to be the same.
F seemed like he would be a candid man when he spoke, and not likely to flatter or flirt. It was no wonder his cousin thought this correspondence was a better means for him to get acquainted with a woman and a stranger. A lady always liked to be admired a little, but perhaps F was not inclined to do that until he was certain of a lady’s regard.
Of course, flirting would help improve that regard.
Did she want to flirt with F?
Elizabeth huffed to herself as she put down his letter. She did not want to flirt with her new friend. It was just a shame that women could not be forward in showing their feelings. Men could say all manner of pretty and forward things that were still within the bounds of propriety, but if she hinted at her fondness for a man, her reputation suffered for it. Thank goodness for opportunities like this matchmaking subscription to allow women some margin to act a little more like men were allowed to.
Not that she had any interest in flirting with F.
She was, however, eager to know everything about him. In fact, she thought of him all the time, wondering what his opinion would be on some matter or what he might be doing at that moment. He had even grown a little more sporting throughout their exchanges. She doubted he would ever be truly lively, but he had seemed to relax enough to enjoy her teasing him and his replies had grown conversational and less severe. What would he be like in person? Would he listen as well as she hoped he would?
“Lizzy, does your letter writer have a name?” Mrs Gardiner asked her.
Elizabeth started. “Only an initial,” she called, hoping they had not caught her with her mind wandering to F. “There is anonymity until we decide to meet, and we have both declared that neither of us is in a hurry.”
“That is wise,” her aunt said with approval in her eyes. “The right man will come along at last—and he might not be this correspondent. So, what letter does your new friend’s name begin with?”
“F. Perhaps he is a Francis, or a Frederick.”
“He might go by Frank, or Fred,” Jane said.
“Maybe his family calls him Freddy?” Elizabeth said, smiling. “We could be Lizzy and Freddy at family gatherings.”
“What if his name is actually Felix?” Mrs Gardiner teased, and they all laughed.
“Oh, a Felix I could not countenance,” she cried. “He must have a steady and dull name for me to approve of him.”
There was a noise in the hall that indicated they were to have visitors, and Elizabeth hastily put away her letter from F. People rarely approved of the subscription agency in public, and she had no wish for anyone to know she was engaged in the business.
Bingley, his sisters, and—to her utmost surprise—Mr Darcy were shown into the drawing room. Elizabeth and her aunt’s gazes could not help but turn to Jane, who looked ill at ease and wore a pained expression.
“Good morning, ladies,” said Bingley cheerfully. “I am sorry we could not call before today. I wanted to, except my sisters have been engaged all week. But they were finally free today. They have been so eager to call, and I insisted on joining them.”
A quick look at his sisters’ faces told Elizabeth that it was the other way around. Bingley was determined to renew the acquaintance despite his sisters’ displeasure. Why Mr Darcy came, however, was harder to tell. Perhaps he had a penance to pay, too. He greeted everyone and then sat on Elizabeth’s side of the room without another word. She suspected had there been a newspaper within reach, he would have taken it up and ignored them all.
That made her more eager to provoke the reserved, proud man into speaking.
“And what brings you to Cheapside today, Mr Darcy?” she asked him directly.
He paused before answering. “Bingley resides with me while in town, and when he said he was paying a call, I thought itproper to join him since I saw all of you at the panorama. Had you a pleasant time?”
She answered succinctly that she did. It had been extraordinary, but she was not about to waste her time extolling its fine qualities to him. She would save her sentiments for F, a man far more likely to share her opinion than Mr Darcy.
Even from across the room, Elizabeth could see that Jane was troubled as Bingley chatted with her and their aunt. Jane knew how little her former friends approved of her acquaintance with their brother, and she probably was uncertain what to make of Bingley’s intentions. Was he merely being amiable, or did he love Jane?
“I did not know you to be in town also, Miss Eliza,” Miss Bingley eventually said when she had passed too much time in silence.
“I suppose your conversations with Jane here and in Grosvenor Street were so short, and you hurried away so quickly that she did not have the time to mention it. You must be busy with your other friends.”
Elizabeth smiled, but Miss Bingley did not return it and looked away. Bingley, she noticed, looked embarrassed.
