One evening, when the entire family was gathered for dinner at Longbourn, Mr. Bingley arrived with his large smile, and with his friend, Mr. Darcy. Without warning, without news, the master of Pemberley was finally — suddenly — there, in Longbourn’s drawing room.
Elizabeth was so overwhelmed by the surprise, so overjoyed and so nervous, that she forgot to breathe, only pressed her hand over her heart to still its wild rhythm.
“Look who just arrived!” Mr. Bingley exclaimed. “He turned up an hour ago, and I cannot say how happy I am that he is finally here!”
“I apologise for my impromptu appearance,” Mr. Darcy said. “I told Bingley to inform you about my arrival tonight so I could call on you properly tomorrow, but he insisted on me joining him.”
“And we are so glad he did,” Mr. Bennet responded. “Mr. Darcy, you are most welcome, sir! I am very happy to see you.”
“Likewise, Mr. Bennet,” Mr. Darcy said, then he properly greeted the ladies. His eyes lingered upon Elizabeth a moment too long, and she barely found the strength to nod her head in acknowledgement.
Mrs. Bennet welcomed him with a tempered tone, different from her usual response, while Kitty and Mary seemed intimidated.
“We are very happy to have you here, Mr. Darcy,” Jane said with genuine warmth.
“Miss Bennet, allow me to congratulate you on your engagement. My friend is a fortunate man to be marrying the woman of his dreams.”
“Indeed, I am,” Mr. Bingley admitted as the party moved to the dinner table.
Each took their usual chairs, and Mr. Bennet invited Mr. Darcy to sit to his right — a place that usually belonged to Elizabeth. She moved down one chair, allowing the guest to sit between her and her father.
“I am sorry to take your place, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said in a low voice.
“I am not sorry at all, Mr. Darcy,” she responded. “Quite the opposite.”
She managed to speak and even smile a little, but she was far from comfortable. He was there — finally — and she could not decide whether her happiness or anxiety was stronger. He was close enough to her that she could feel the movements of his body, could inhale his scent, and could listen to his voice, even though he spoke mainly to her father.
Mr. Bennet was keen to engage Mr. Darcy in conversation, so most of the time, he was turned to his host. However, he kept glancing at Elizabeth. He even filled her glass of water — a small,polite gesture, which increased Elizabeth’s nervousness, as she could sense the trace of his fingers on her glass. She felt silly and embarrassed by her response, praying that the others would not notice her clumsiness.
As time passed, Elizabeth began to feel slightly more composed. She joined in the conversation and asked Mr. Darcy about his sister and the colonel. As he turned to her to respond, his arm touched hers. He smiled at her, and she quivered but smiled back.
After dinner, Mr. Bennet invited the gentlemen to the library for a drink and a cigar.
“I hope you will not be too disappointed with my library, Mr. Darcy. It is nothing to yours, and from what my brother Gardiner told me, I cannot even imagine how spectacular the library at Pemberley is.”
“Utterly spectacular!” Mr. Bingley interjected. “The entire property is stunning — not even Matlock Park can compare to it.”
“I shall not even deny that, as I am very proud of it,” Mr. Darcy admitted. “But you should not worry about me being disappointed, Mr. Bennet. Your passion for books is enough for me to appreciate your library, regardless of its dimensions.”
“I hope you will invite us to Pemberley after I am married. I am sure Jane would love it!” Mr. Bingley continued, and Elizabeth blushed.
“Of course I shall. It would be my pleasure to host you all,” Mr. Darcy replied.
“Well, I rarely travel, but that is one invitation I would not refuse,” Mr. Bennet said mostly in jest, leading the way while Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy followed him.
“Lizzy, do you believe Mr. Darcy was serious? Are we truly invited to Pemberley?” Mrs. Bennet asked in amazement when they were alone.
“We should not make any such plans, Mama,” Elizabeth said. “But I know Mr. Darcy is not a man to say things he does not mean. He might have been merely polite, though, as Papa and Mr. Bingley almost forced the invitation.”
“Wait until I tell my sister Phillips and Lady Lucas. I am sure Charlotte and Mr. Collins will never be invited to Pemberley!”
“Mama, we just discussed not making plans.”
“Yes, yes, do not worry. Well, Mr. Darcy is different from how I remember him, that is for certain. But he is still too scary to accept any invitation from him,” Mrs. Bennet said.
Elizabeth smiled. She wished to remind her mother that she had declared Mr. Darcy to be exceedingly handsome when they first saw him. But it was not the time for such unpleasant memories from the past. That evening, he was just as she recollected—equally handsome and friendly. And the touch of his arm on hers, though brief, had burnt her. She needed to speak to him. To thank him. If only they could find an opportunity for a private encounter, as had happened in the library at Pemberley.
The gentlemen soon returned, and Mr. Bingley hurried to sit next to Jane, striking up a conversation, which Mrs. Bennet soon interrupted.
