FOURTEEN
Bath, September 1812
Elizabeth
Elizabeth had slept poorly the night before.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Sarah's bright smile.Papa always makes sure we have what we need.The words echoed endlessly in her mind, accompanied by images of Mr. Darcy—respectable, principled Mr. Darcy—maintaining a secret household as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
There was no other reason a child would call a man who visited frequentlyPapa.None that made any sense.
Elizabeth's anger burned hotter with each passing hour. He had proposed to her. Had stood in that parsonage and declared his love, his struggles against his better judgment—all while keeping a mistress and child hidden away in Bath.
Had he thought to continue the arrangement after they married? Or had he planned to discard them once he had secured a wife of proper breeding?
And now—now he had the audacity to act as though he were reformed. To apologize for his mistakes with Jane and Mr. Bingley. To speak humbly of his faults. To present himself as a changed man worthy of her good opinion.
All while visitingthem.While playing father to a child born of his own recklessness.
He should have told her in Kent. Should have admitted it during that dreadful proposal when he was cataloging all the reasons their marriage would be a degradation. Should have at least had the decency to mention that he already had responsibilities that would make any union impossible.
But he had said nothing.
Thank God I refused him then.
Here, in Bath, she had been ready to forgive him. Ready to believe he had changed. Perhaps, already feeling something more than mere civility and admiration toward him.
What a fool she had been.
By morning, her eyes were gritty with exhaustion and her head ached dully. Jane had noticed, of course, and asked if she was quite well. Elizabeth had blamed the Bath water, the change in routine—anything but the truth.
The gentlemen did not arrive at their usual hour. Ten o'clock came and went. Eleven. By noon, Elizabeth had convinced herself they would not come at all—that perhaps Mr. Darcy had sensed her coldness at dinner and decided to spare them both the discomfort of another meeting.
She told herself she was relieved.
But when half-past twelve brought the sound of a knock at the door, her heart gave a traitorous leap.
The maid showed the gentlemen into the parlor. Mr. Gardiner rose from his chair to greet them warmly, shaking hands with both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley.
"Gentlemen! We were beginning to think you had been detained by business."
"Forgive our lateness," Mr. Bingley said with his usual cheerfulness. "Darcy had a matter to attend to this morning that took longer than anticipated."
Elizabeth's eyes went immediately to Mr. Darcy. He looked tired—more tired than he had at dinner the previous evening.There were shadows beneath his eyes that had not been there before, and a tightness around his mouth that suggested he, too, had not slept well.
She told herself she did not care.
Mrs. Gardiner welcomed them graciously, offering refreshment which they politely declined. Jane colored prettily when Mr. Bingley greeted her, and Elizabeth noted with some satisfaction that at least her sister's happiness remained secure, even if her own peace of mind had been shattered.
"Miss Bennet," Mr. Bingley said, turning to Jane with barely contained eagerness, "I wonder if you might still be amenable to visiting the new circulating library? The weather is remarkably fine, and I understand they have acquired several new volumes from London."
Jane smiled—that soft, genuine smile that transformed her entire countenance. "I should like that very much, Mr. Bingley."
"Excellent! And you, Miss Elizabeth?" He looked at her with hopeful expectation. "Surely you would enjoy seeing the new collection as well?"
Before Elizabeth could answer, Mr. Darcy spoke quietly. "If Miss Elizabeth is willing, of course. We would not wish to impose."
His eyes found hers—cautious, searching. Elizabeth felt a surge of bitter anger. How dare he look at her like that? As though he were the injured party?
