Elizabeth laughed, unable to help herself. “A promise, Mr. Darcy? That is a dangerous thing to make.”
“Only if I am likely to break it,” he replied.
Their eyes met once more, and for the briefest instant, the crowded ballroom, the candlelight, the noise — all of it seemed to draw away, leaving only the quiet certainty that something had shifted between them.
“I look forward to tomorrow, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, bowing.
“And I, sir,” she answered softly, curtsying in return.
As Darcy turned to rejoin the throng, Elizabeth remained a moment longer, her hands clasped before her, her heart unsteady but full. She could still feel the warmth of his hand in hers, still hear the echo of his voice — steady, kind, and wholly unlike any man she had ever known.
For the first time that night, she allowed herself to smile without irony.
Perhaps, she thought,the morrow may bring something truly worth remembering.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Longbourn – November 1811
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON brought the gentlemen of Netherfield and Apollo to Longbourn. The November air was mild, the sunlight pale and thin through drifting clouds, and Elizabeth could not help a private smile when she heard the sound of hooves on the gravel drive. That smile broadened when Hill entered to announce, “Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, ma’am.”
But her relief was greatest of all when she remembered that Mr. Collins had left earlier that morning for Lucas Lodge, carrying with him his self-importance and an air of wounded dignity.Providence has smiled on me at last,she thought, glancing down at Pippin, who wagged her tail as though sharing the sentiment.
The gentlemen were received in Longbourn’s drawing room and offered tea. Pippin and Apollo, as though making amends for having been apart the previous night, caught sight of each other and at once dashed outside, racing across the lawn in playful delight.
Mrs. Bennet’s delight was scarcely containable. “Mr. Bingley! Mr. Darcy! What a pleasure. We are still quite in awe of the splendour of your ball. I told Mr. Bennet it was the most charming evening of the season.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled dryly, “It was indeed a fine display, sir. So fine that I could scarce hear myself think for all the chatter of admiration.”
Lydia and Kitty burst into laughter. “It was the merriest night ever, Papa! There were so many officers—so many red coats!”
Kitty leaned forward eagerly. “Though such a pity Mr. Wickham was not there. Lydia had hoped for him most.”
At this, Darcy’s expression changed. His brow tightened; his cup paused mid-air. “Mr. Wickham?” he repeated quietly.
“Yes, sir,” said Lydia, far too pleased to have drawn his attention. “He is one of the officers stationed with the militia in Meryton. The most handsome of them all, I assure you.”
Darcy’s voice was measured, though a trace of steel underlay it. “I see. I trust there can be no mistake in the name?”
“None, sir,” Lydia replied with a giggle.
Mr. Bennet, noting the gravity of Darcy’s look, asked, “You seem troubled, Mr. Darcy. Is the gentleman known to you?”
Darcy set down his cup. “I know of a man by that name—a scoundrel, if truth be told. But I am sure it cannot be the same. The Wickham I know would not submit to the discipline of a profession, least of all one of honour like the militia.”
A brief silence followed. Elizabeth, watching him, noted the shadow that crossed his features and the careful restraint in his tone. Mrs. Bennet, eager to recover the conversation, fluttered her fan and said quickly, “Oh, I am certain it cannot be the same gentleman, Mr. Darcy. This Mr. Wickham Lydia speaks of, I have heard of is all politeness and good humour, quite the favourite among the officers. My girls would never speak so warmly of a man undeserving of it.”
Lydia laughed lightly, but Mr. Bennet’s look suggested he placed little faith in such second-hand assurances. The moment passed; tea and conversation resumed. After a short while,Mr. Bennet, who had been observing both gentlemen with quiet amusement, said, “Since my daughters have admired the gardens of Netherfield, it is only fair that you should see ours. You didn’t get to see them the last time you called. You may find them modest, but they are faithful to the soil.”
Bingley sprang up at once, all cheer and readiness, and Jane followed him with a smile that left her mother beaming in satisfaction. Darcy rose more deliberately, his gaze seeking Elizabeth’s almost instinctively.
***
OUTSIDE, THE AIR was sweet and still. The lawns glistened faintly with the damp of morning rain, and beyond the hedges, the last of the autumn roses still held their scent. Pippin and Apollo raced ahead of them, their gleaming coats flashing between the garden paths, chasing at butterflies as though they had no memory of restraint.
Jane and Bingley walked some distance ahead, their voices light and happy, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy to follow at a quieter pace.
“The gardens are charming,” Darcy said. “And better tended than I expected. Your father seems a man of order.”
