But what if F was Darcy?
The mortification of arranging a meeting and then seeing the name Fitzwilliam Darcy on a letter from the matchmaking office would be wretched. And then, what would Darcy feel when he saw the name Elizabeth Bennet? It would devastate him, certainly. He had wanted to meet a friendly woman who would talk with him about books, not a woman who misjudged him for months. Darcy would never tolerate meeting once he saw her name, and then every future encounter would be a thousand times worse than it was already destined to be.
But if she refused to meet, her friendship with F would sink, because how else would he interpret her reluctance but as her disinterest in their possible relationship? But there was still the chance that she was wrong and he was not Darcy. Her judgment had not been sound as of late, after all.
Could she convince F to meet without involving her uncle or the matchmaking office, at least not at first? She could meet him in a public place, assure herself that F was not FitzwilliamDarcy, briefly greet him, tell him she would like to continue their acquaintance and then go through all the formalities with the office and continue with a proper call in Cheapside.
But how could she arrange a meeting when she could go nowhere alone? Elizabeth set aside the letter and saw Jane using her writing table.
“What are you writing?”
“I received a note from Caroline. She wishes for my company on a walk in The Green Park tomorrow.” Elizabeth’s face must have expressed her opinion because Jane rushed to add, “She also says that her brother will be there and particularly hopes that I can come. He desires my presence so much that he will send a carriage to bring me to that part of town.”
Elizabeth put aside her fears about Darcy being her correspondent. “That is lovely news, Jane! Bingley wants to spend time with you and is insisting his sister arrange it.”
Jane blushed a little, and Elizabeth smiled at her sister’s renewed hope. “I think that since Caroline is the one inviting me, my aunt will not be concerned about letting me go, even if she insists on sending a man with me in the carriage.”
“Would you like me to join you?” Elizabeth cried, a little louder than she should have. “It might make it easier for my aunt to allow you to go, and I can distract Miss Bingley in case you need to lean on Bingley’s arm.”
“You would do that for me? Thank you.”
Elizabeth felt guilt wash over her. She would have gone with Jane in any event, anything to help Jane find happiness with Bingley. But now she could beg F to meet her tomorrow in The Green Park. The park was enclosed with an iron railing and was not very large. Surely they could find a place to run into one another a little apart from her friends.
“Jane, what time is Bingley’s carriage coming tomorrow? And you said The Green Park?”
While Jane answered and then finished at the table, Elizabeth composed a letter to F in her mind. She could tell him what she would wear, and when she would be there, and come up with some excuse for the clandestine nature of this first meeting. She could explain it away later with nerves or girlish fears or some other foolishness. Perhaps she could even tell F that she was afraid he might have been a man who had every reason to hate her and then they could laugh about it together.
The similarities she noted between F and Darcy were still there, and a meeting would put all of her fears to rest—or be the single most disastrous meeting ever to take place in London.
Monday,February 10, 11 o’clock
My dear friend,
When I received your last, my feelings were closer to excessive surprise than gleeful smiles or cries of horror. I am astonished that you wish to meet, but very gratified. I agree it is best to meet in person to learn if the amity I think we have both felt through the pen will translate to when we must speak to one another in a drawing room.
We neither of us have met anyone in this manner, and I wonder if I might alter your plans for an initial meeting? First impressions can have a powerful impact, for better or for worse, and I think we ought to look on one another in a brief and, dare I say, cursory manner before we go through the formalities of names and addresses through the subscription office.
Would you be amenable to a meeting tomorrow afternoon in The Green Park? I will walk with my sister and another lady and gentleman at 3 o’clock, and I will do my best to leadour group to the northwest corner by half-past. My hair and eyes are dark. I will wear a blue bonnet, and a posy of pansies pinned to my pelisse. I thought pansies fitting to identify me, as they are symbols for thinking of someone, and for hoping that they think of you in return. You, my dear friend, have often been in my thoughts. You are welcome to approach me when you see me. Perhaps you could also find a flower seller with pansies and attach them to your coat? Otherwise, I will be forced to approach every tall and slender man asking if he is F, and I hope you would spare me that mortification.
I tease, but I realise how peculiar this seems. I do not doubt your honour, and I hope my request does not place me under suspicion. If our encounter in the park is to our mutual satisfaction, I look forward to communicating our intentions to both the matchmaking office and our families and continuing our friendship in person.
Despite my curious request, I rejoice in the hope of meeting you and remain,
Your friend,
L
Darcy’s mind passed over the letter as he hurried to Colonel Fitzwilliam’s rooms in the bachelor quarters near St James’s. It was five o’clock, and if he did not hurry, he would miss his cousin before he went out for the evening. Darcy rarely sought counsel for anything related to society or his friends, but he was not a man who refused to admit when he needed help. He was astonished at L wishing to meet him unknown to her guardians. It felt horribly inappropriate, and he could not understand it. It was not an indiscretion that he dared to attribute to an excess of love.
Fitzwilliam’s set in the Albany would likely be beyond his ability to afford were it not for his father supplementing his income. Darcy entered an entrance hall, and there weretwo sitting rooms in the front, a bedroom at the back, with kitchen, cellars, and a room for a servant below. A single man could entertain in style here without having to take an entire townhouse for the season.
His cousin gestured for him to come into his smaller and cosier sitting room. “You came all this way just to see me? I am flattered.”
Darcy looked at him askance as he sat. “It is half a mile from my house.”
“You left your elegant house in Charles Street to come all the way to my humble bachelor quarters. To what do I owe the honour?”
“I come here all the time. The porter knows me by sight.” This teasing had to end; Darcy needed help. “No younger son of an earl need be ashamed to put the Albany direction on his card.”
