She remembered how desperately he looked for L in The Green Park. “He would be disappointed in me. He admires honesty in a partner above nearly all else. And Darcy might care in some small way for Mrs Sullivan. What if he despises me for lying, for not telling him I was L immediately, and turns to her instead?”
“That is your fear talking. It is not rational.” Jane smiled and led her by the hand to sit on the bed. “He kissedyouin the library, not her.”
Elizabeth felt that fear now rise out of control. “Maybe he felt guilty for kissing me and actually prefers Mrs Sullivan? He never said there was no one else when he stopped kissing me.” She let go of Jane’s hand to cover her eyes and hold back tears. The only thing she could be absolutely certain of was her own feelings. “He did not speak to me for the rest of the night.”
“If he was going to propose, he would prefer to do it alone. You were in a crowded lecture hall, and if he is as principled as I believe he is—as you believe he is—then he is not as fond of Mrs Sullivan as you fear, not if he was so pleased by your admission that he kissed you.”
“I have made myself so unhappy with worry.” Elizabeth sighed and put her arms around Jane. “How wretched would I be with no one to speak to of what I felt, no Jane to comfort me. I was supposed to come to town to be a comfort to you, and now here you are telling me how silly I am.” She could almost allow herself to believe that she had not ruined everything with Darcy.
“Lizzy, why are you so unsettled?” Jane asked, pulling back to look into her face. “Is it really out of fear that he admires Mrs Sullivan more than you?”
“No,” she whispered. She knew the truth behind their correspondence—and Darcy did not. He did not know how his letters improved her opinion of him. “Because there is a lie between us, and I love him.”
“And can you begin a marriage with Mr Darcy with this lie between you?”
Elizabeth shook her head. She had to be honest, and she tried not to give in to despair that it was too late and he would feel ill-used once she confessed. How much would his respect for her fall once he learnt what she kept from him? Whatever affection Darcy had found for her this past week might be too new for him to overcome her deceit.
But he valued honesty, and she could not live with this lie hanging between them.
“Would you tell Bingley and his sisters that you want to go somewhere this afternoon? I promise this shall be the last time,” she added, with a wan smile. “I will ask Darcy to meet me as L and tell him everything.”
Monday, February 17
My dear friend,
I beg to prevail on your kindness one final time and ask you to meet me in person today. I do not want to dissuade you from your chosen lady, but to deliver your letters myself and offer an explanation why I did not meet you at The Green Park. It would ease my mind to be candid and apologise in person, and have us part in friendship and honesty.
For worlds I would not have a letter of mine seen by your future bride. I will bring your letters, but will burn them if you do not appear.
I will be in the Whispering Gallery at St Paul’s this afternoon at half past two, in the place you described in your earlier letter, wearing the blue hat and posy of pansies as I ought to have worn last week. I hope you will be gracious enough to hear my explanations in person. Even if you do not, I remain,
Your dear friend,
L
It had beensimple to get everyone to spend the afternoon looking at the curiosities at St Paul’s. Jane had only to tell Bingley that she wanted to go, and Bingley immediately agreed and pressed Mrs Hurst to chaperone his intended and Elizabeth. Bingley’s sisters exchanged long-suffering looks and complained the entire carriage ride, but they all descended from a tightly packed carriage by two o’clock.
After pretending to share everyone’s interest in the clockwork and the Great Bell, Elizabeth said she had to rest while the others viewed the library. As soon as they were out of sight, she asked the person conducting visitors where the stairs were to the galleries in the dome.
She stopped counting steps at around two hundred, and it was soon after that when she reached the Whispering Gallery. Above her, it looked to be about a hundred more steps each to get to the Stone and the Golden galleries. She entered and went halfway round the circular walkway at the base of the dome above the nave to sit on the stone bench. It was silent all around her, and there was no service until quarter after three. If someone stood opposite her on the other side of the gallery, she could hear the ticking of their watch or any word they whispered.
She had nothing to do but fret while she waited to see if Darcy would appear.
Would he be angry when he realised she was L and leave? Would he let her explain or be too distressed at being deceived for this long? Would she always be a woman with no integrity whom he could never respect?
Elizabeth fiddled with the pansies on her pelisse. It had not been necessary—Darcy would make sense of it all quickly enough—but she thought it a penance due because of the way she abandoned him in The Green Park.
Elizabeth heard footsteps climbing the stairs and then stop just outside the small door. After a long moment of hesitation where she felt overpowered by restlessness and tension, Darcy entered the gallery.
Even though they were separated by one hundred feet, his feelings were expressive enough that she could discern them from the other side of the gallery. Darcy’s face went from impassive to surprise upon recognising her. He then looked pleased, and he took a step toward going round the gallery toward her before halting. She saw the realisation in his face, watched him reason, think, and his mind pass over every word exchanged on paper and in person.
He had a severe countenance that drove away most of her hope.
He bowed his head, tapping lightly on the brim of his hat that he held in his hand. The sound travelled round the gallery and the steady beat hit her ears. Was he lost in thought or furious? The seconds passed, and Elizabeth felt a wretched suspense.
Darcy turned his head to the wall, and she was afraid of what he would say.
“L is for Lizzy?”
