The distinction was not lost on her.
After all the commotion, Mrs. Bennet reappeared, attended by a servant bearing a carefully arranged dish.
“My dear Miss Darcy, you must allow me to offer you something – quite a small attention, but prepared expressly…”
It was a rich almond and cherry cake, delicately flavoured with orange flower water and decorated with fine icing – something above the ordinary fare of Longbourn, and clearly the result of particular instruction.
Georgiana accepted it with gratitude. Everybody was served.
“It is excellent,” she said softly.
Mrs. Bennet was delighted.
The conversation soon divided. Mr. Bingley found himself beside Jane; whatever hesitation had attended his return seemed to dissolve almost immediately in her presence.
Miss Bingley approached Jane not long after, with a civility so exact as to admit of no objection. “My dear Miss Bennet,” she said, “I fear I may have been… misunderstood in a letter I wrote during my brother’s absence. I should be most sorry if anything in it gave you pain.”
Jane, who had never been disposed to suspect ill, received the explanation with the gentlest composure. “I am very glad to hear it,” she said.
Caroline smiled, but it was not a smile of ease.
For a short interval, the company was otherwise engaged; Mrs. Bennet had secured Miss Darcy’s attention, Lydia and Kitty were absorbed at the table, and Mr. Bingley spoke in low tones with Jane.
Elizabeth found herself a little apart, and Mr. Darcy soon joined her. “You wished me to meet your sister,” she said, without preamble.
“I did.”
There was a brief pause.
“I hoped,” he continued, though not without some effort, “that it might give you a better opinion of me.”
Elizabeth looked at him – surprised, though not displeased.
“A better opinion?”
“Yes.” He met her gaze, though not without a degree of seriousness. “You have not always thought well of me.”
“That is true.”
“And I thought…” He stopped, then resumed more steadily. “…that if you saw how much I value her, and how she is with me, you might judge me less harshly.”
Elizabeth was silent for a moment. “You wished to recommend yourself,” she said.
“I wished to be understood.”
The simplicity of it held her attention.
“I think it necessary,” he said, “that you should not be mistaken in me.”
Elizabeth’s expression softened slightly. “I do not know that I am,” she said.
“No?” There was something in his tone – not doubt, but hope.
She hesitated, then added, with a faint smile, “Though I will allow that your methods are… more persuasive than they once were.”
Darcy’s expression changed – very slightly. “I am glad of that.”
Elizabeth looked toward Georgiana, who was now listening with evident attention to Lydia’s animated explanation of something of no consequence.
