“No, sir. I should like to spend an entire day at Hatchard’s, and I would enjoy an evening at the theatre; however, I must confess I am a country girl. The air in London is foul, and the streets arecrowded and noisy. There, now you will think me eccentric.” She raised her eyes to read his expression, but he appeared pleased with her answer.
The fireworks were now in full display, and they fell silent to watch.
The hour was late by the time the fireworks concluded. Mr. Bingley consulted his watch. “Darcy, it is half past eleven. My carriage should be waiting along the road.”
Elizabeth felt a degree of happiness she had not known before. “Mr. Darcy, I thank you for bringing us here. I have never passed a more agreeable day.”
“You are most welcome, Miss Elizabeth. I also count the day a happy one. And you, Georgie?”
She rested her head against his arm. “It has been a wonderful day. Only Richard’s presence could have improved it.”
Darcy replied. “We shall hope for the best and pray that Philip soon recovers.”
They left the gardens and headed toward the bridge. After a short distance, Mr. Bingley gestured ahead.
“There stands my carriage beneath that tree. My coachman chose his place well.”
The drive back to Gracechurch Street passed in quiet. Once again, Mr. Darcy sat pressed against Elizabeth, and though it was unintended, she welcomed the intimacy.
She felt at ease in his company. His shoulder rested against hers. He was near enough that she caught again his clean masculine scent. The memory of the evening fixed itself in her mind. Shebelieved she would recall it even as an old woman, looking back upon the happiest moments of her life.
When they drew near to the house on Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth took leave of Georgiana. Once the carriage halted, Mr. Bingley descended and assisted Jane down, then escorted her to the door. Mr. Darcy followed and handed Elizabeth from the carriage. His fingers closed about her hand as he guided her arm through his and drew her near. She offered no resistance, and by the time they mounted the steps, he held her firmly against his side.
The door opened. Mr. Darcy released her hand and bowed. “Thank you again for joining us this evening, Miss Elizabeth.”
“And I thank you for the pleasure of the day, Mr. Darcy. I shall remember it always.”
She entered with Jane, and when the door closed behind them, they hastened to the nearest saloon and looked out through the window. The gentlemen had already boarded the conveyance, yet they watched the carriage lamps until they vanished.
Elizabeth seated herself upon a small couch. “Jane, I never passed such a day of exquisite pleasure. It seemed almost unreal.”
Jane sat next to her and pressed her hand. “Lizzy, Mr. Bingley is like a hero from one of your novels. I did not suppose such a man could exist, so handsome, so agreeable, such a perfect gentleman.”
“You mean he resembles neither Sir William nor Mr. Goulding?”
Jane laughed. “He does not. If I were married to such a man, I should count myself fortunate all my days. If I were married to him, I should be the happiest wife who ever drew breath.”
Elizabeth rested her head against her sister’s shoulder. “You may yet be so. His attentions were marked, and you received them well. I saw that you offered him encouragement.”
“I remembered your counsel. If he withdraws, it will not be because I showed him indifference. It tried my sense of propriety, yet I resolved to be open in my manner. If smiles can give courage, he received many.”
They continued to recall the evening until Mrs. Gardiner entered.
“Come, my girls. There is a fire in the drawing room, and the candles are lit. You must tell your aunt every particular.”
The two sisters rose and accompanied her there, and they did not retire until one o’clock, recounting each adventure and, in Jane’s case, each look, each smile, and each attention she had received from Mr. Bingley.
Chapter 12: The Theatre Royal
The following morning, two bouquets were delivered to Gracechurch Street. Mr. Bingley sent Jane an arrangement of white roses and forget-me-nots. About half an hour later, a second bouquet arrived for Elizabeth, composed of a dozen red roses.
The card tucked among Elizabeth’s flowers was written in Mr. Darcy’s bold, heavy hand.
Miss Elizabeth,
Pray do me the honor of joining Georgiana and me at the theater next week on the sixteenth of March. I leave the choice of play to you. As You Like It is playing at Drury Lane. Should you prefer a tragedy, Adelgitha is to be performed the same evening at Covent Garden. I defer to your judgment and to that of your sister. Charles assures me that either will suit him, provided Miss Bennet is agreeable.
Kindly have your aunt send your reply to No. 18 Grosvenor Square, Mayfair.Georgiana and I hope to see you then.
