“May I see it?” her aunt repeated.
“It is not the sort of thing to wear at home, amongst friends. I need not parade before all of you, yes? Another time, when I can wear it properly and do it justice. You enjoyed Bath, did you not? Where will you go next summer?”
The talk shifted to family topics, and of their summer plans that must now, of course, include a trip to Derbyshire to visit her. After a quarter of an hour, Darcy left the room for a moment, and then returned to whisper in her ear that the housekeeper needed her. She excused herself and, to her surprise, Darcy followed her into the lobby.
“Elizabeth.” He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I must speak with you.”
“Not at the moment, the housekeeper?—”
“I made that up to speak to you alone. You seem unwell.”
“I am perfectly well,” she lied, hating herself for it.
“You have the worn look of fatigue, and it seems like your thoughts are disordered.”
“I am attentive to our guests, am I not?”
“You are polite,” he said, “and amiable as always, but you do not seem to enjoy yourself. And if you really are unwell, would you like me to send our company home? You can blame it on me if you do not like to admit it. No one will have trouble believing I am unsocial.”
He was such a dear man. She had to find a way to pay Wickham and get the journal and jewellery back before she entirely ruined Darcy’s happiness. She had to protect his reputation and his happinessjust as much as she had to protect her marriage and any chance of having a genuine relationship with Darcy.
She had to fix this.
“I am very glad to have our friends with us. My aunt and uncle mean a great deal to me, as I know the colonel means a great deal to you. If I am a little tired, I am not so weary that I cannot play cards until the candles burn down.”
She left him before he could say anything else, but all the thoughts of her self-reproach and shame haunted her for the rest of the evening.
While they played cards, sorrow and disappointment oppressed her, which she felt the more from having no one to whom she could communicate her distress. On the contrary, she exerted all her energy to conceal it from the observation of her aunt and uncle and her beloved husband.
Despite what she had said to Darcy, she retired early so she might, free from restraint, finally give way to her tears.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The morning after meeting the Gardiners, Darcy came down to breakfast at the same moment as Elizabeth. She was exact and punctual in her hours, just as he was, and he was glad they ate together. He had come to enjoy the serene time together before they withdrew to their respective employments.
Of course, if they had awoken in the same bed, then ten o’clock would not be the first time he had laid eyes on her since the Gardiners and his cousin left last night.
She put food on her plate, but scarcely touched it. She had not eaten much the evening before, either. While he ate and drank his coffee, Elizabeth opened her letters, supplying little comments as he read his own. However, when he moved on to the newspaper, Elizabeth watched him every time he turned a page. He felt her studying his reaction as though expecting bad news with each one.
“I will tell you if there is anything alarming,” he said after a while. “But you can simply read it when I am done.”
She looked chastened, more so than his dry comment warranted. “I would be more interested in news from our friends.”
“If there is any, I will share it with you.”
“Your friend Mr Bingley will return to Hertfordshire soon; wouldyou remind him to dance with my sister Jane at the assembly next week?”
She asked this more nervously than was necessary. He wondered why she did not tease about it, or ask him with a little more confidence. She was altered around him. Was it because he had not met Jane Bennet yet and she thought he would disapprove? She should think better of him on that score, given how well their evening with the Gardiners went last night.
He promised to mention it, and she said nothing else. It was uncharacteristic of her. After a while, he asked, “Are you eager to see your Meryton family in December?”
He hoped he sounded easy on the subject. He could tolerate and respect the Bennets for Elizabeth’s sake, but he could become sincerely fond of the Gardiners.
“I will always want to see them,” she said carefully, “but I suspect within a few days I will want some distance.”
“We might stay at…” He picked up Bingley’s letter to check the name of the house. “We might stay at Netherfield with Bingley, for at least part of the time, if your mother will not be insulted. I have Bingley’s assurance that Miss Bingley will be civil.”
She smiled a little. “That is a good idea.”
