They exchanged greetings, both parties wholly aware of the surprise their meeting produced in the other. Yet, while Mr Darcy’s sudden smile betrayed an uncharacteristic warmth, Elizabeth’s sole desire was to extricate herself from the encounter.
“Are you on your way to Meryton?” he asked.
“No,” she replied hastily. “I merely stepped out for a brief walk.”
She hoped he would take the hint and continue on his way, but to her surprise, he said, “May I accompany you, Miss Elizabeth?” His voice held an unfamiliar cordiality, his countenance alight with an unexpected affability.
Prepared for confrontation, Elizabeth found herself disarmed by his tone and eyes, which had a playful light.
“Certainly. The road is open to all,” she replied, her tone measured, her mind swiftly calculating whether this unlooked-for meeting might yield insights into Mr Bingley’s true intentions regarding Jane.
“Did you finally find enjoyment at the ball last evening?” he asked, his enquiry delivered with a civility that probably masked its true intent. Elizabeth understood his purpose: to extol the superiority of Netherfield’s assembly over all others in the vicinity.
“I did. I take pleasure in seeing my friends on any occasion,” she replied. “For me, the character of a ball is determined not by its setting but by the company it gathers.” Her response, though measured, made plain her awareness of his intent and her refusal to concede that Netherfield’s splendour outshone Meryton’s assembly rooms. To her astonishment, Mr Darcy nodded, agreeing with her sentiment.
There was a vivacity in her manner—a mingling of wit and candour—that Darcy found increasingly irresistible. Never before had he been so drawn to a woman. He could not deny that, but because of the inferiority of her connections, he was in danger of forming an attachment beyond his control.
“Miss Bingley mentioned that you eagerly anticipate your sister’s arrival at Netherfield. It is a pity she could not participate in last night’simpressiveball,” Elizabeth ventured, her words light yet laced with irony.
“My sister will not be joining us,” he responded, seeming not to have captured her sarcasm. “She is to travel from Pemberley to London in a few days to join our family and friends.”
“And why, pray, does Miss Darcy deny us the pleasure of her company?” Elizabeth continued to press, her tone playful, yet her intentions still not wholly innocent. “Miss Bingley fervently praises her accomplishments. I wonder whether such excellence might render her uneasy amidst our simpler society,” she added with a teasing smile.
Darcy, though surprised, enjoyed the conversation about his sister, whom he adored. “Georgiana possesses the truest nature, and I have no doubt she would find much to admire in your neighbourhood,” he replied, his words more generous than sincere, his admiration for Elizabeth subtly influencing his speech.
“I shall hope, then, that Miss Darcy may alter her plans,” Elizabeth remarked.
“That is unlikely. I shall soon leave for London myself,” he confessed, a shadow passing over his features.
“You seem sad to be leaving,” said Elizabeth, her voice, quite unintentionally, sounding surprised rather than sarcastic.
Darcy studied her face intently, searching for any trace of acerbity, yet he found none. Thus, he replied with measured caution, “I shall be glad to see Georgiana, and that more than compensates for any regret I might feel about leaving.”
Elizabeth, once again, despite herself, admired the finesse of his response—a reply that asserted nothing definitively, not even the disdain he had so often shown towards them. Except, perhaps, towards her, for she had to admit that he had displayed an interest in her on more than one occasion that could not be overlooked.
“I feel the same when I am away from my family,” she said. “I always look forward to our reunion.”
“I understand you. Family is important,” Mr Darcy replied, his tone once more strikingly sincere, as though she were someone before whom he did not need to conceal the pain of losing his parents. Elizabeth touched his arm lightly—a small gesture of comfort he acknowledged with a gentle smile.
A rare moment of serenity passed between them, leaving them both to wonder whether their relationship could ever have been something different—perhaps a friendship tempered by a quieter harmony.
“My parents and sisters are the most precious things in my life. There is not only love in my feelings but also loyalty,” she said, confident that he felt the same way. “You must be eager to see your sister.”
He just nodded. He was indeed eager to see Georgiana, but Elizabeth’s enthusiasm when speaking about her familymade him reflective. Her declared loyalty to them was a massive obstacle to his intentions towards her.
“You remind me greatly of my sister… If you will allow me such a comparison,” said he.
Elizabeth turned to him, astonished, and smiled. It was most unexpected that this man, who had regarded their community with an air of hauteur born of his belief in his family’s elevated station, should liken her to the person dearest to him in the world.
“Of course you may. It is pleasing to hear such a thing,” she replied.
“Georgiana has matured greatly of late and has shown that she can make significant decisions by employing reason rather than being governed by her heart,” he continued.
“Really?” exclaimed Elizabeth. “And you think this is what connects us?”
“Indeed. My sister is still young, but maturity is not necessarily bound to age. Even though she is still shy, Georgiana has already clearly demonstrated how she wishes to live her life.”
“And you believe I have done the same?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
