“Then I suppose that must be enough,” replied Charlotte. She smiled. “I hope you will forgive me, my friend, for I do not mean to meddle.”
“And I do not consider it meddling. I have told you all I can for the moment. Much will now depend on Mr. Darcy’s conduct.”
Mrs. Gardiner, her dear aunt, had much the same to say, though she was not so insistent as Charlotte. “I trust your judgment, Lizzy. All I ask is that you are certain of what you want, however it all turns out.”
“At least you do not propose that I accept Mr. Darcy out of hand,” said Elizabeth.
The gentleman in question, she noted, was speaking with Mr. Gardiner. If he was not animated—not that he ever was—he was at least speaking with perfect civility. Elizabeth did not know why that bothered her, for Mr. Bingley was only one step removed from the position in society that Mr. Gardiner now inhabited, and Mr. Darcy had never disdained his friend.
“No, I am not your mother, though I will point out that her concerns are valid.”
“I have never doubted that, Aunt. Yet I wish for something more from the married state than simply to have a fine home and servants to attend to my every whim.”
“That, I understand,” agreed Mrs. Gardiner.
She left Elizabeth to her own devices soon after that exchange; Mr. Darcy, ever attentive to Elizabeth’s whereabouts and her situation, approached her once she was alone. As the man approached, Elizabeth reflected that nothing was lacking in his person, for he was handsome, broad-shouldered, and trim, the sort of man to command any maiden’s attention. Now that he had openly declared himself—to her, if no one else—he was also proving an attentive suitor. Was that enough?
“You appear pensive, Miss Elizabeth,” said he when he stood beside her.
Elizabeth allowed the smile that had become easier of late. “Nothing more than a few idle thoughts, Mr. Darcy.”
“All is well, I hope.”
“It is.”
Mr. Darcy considered her. “Then perhaps I should distract you. A fine debate at this moment would keep you from your weighty thoughts so you could enjoy the evening more.”
Elizabeth laughed and laid a hand on his arm, an action she would not have contemplated a short time ago but now seemednatural. “Do you not think debates are a little inappropriate for such a happy occasion as Christmas?”
“Not if those engaging in them appreciate such exchanges.”
“You may be correct, Mr. Darcy, but let us eschew debates for the evening. Instead, my sister appears to be about to play Christmas carols. Will you not join me in singing a few songs of the season?”
“Anything to bring you pleasure, Miss Elizabeth.”
As they stood around the pianoforte, Mr. Darcy’s deep baritone accompanied Elizabeth’s light contralto. In that moment of harmony, Elizabeth realized two things. She welcomed Mr. Darcy’s company far more than she had ever thought, and she enjoyed their sparring and anticipated the next opportunity. Perhaps that did not constitute the lasting affection she always thought she should feel for a man whose suit she was considering, but there were worse places to start.
Chapter XIV
“You have betrayed me, Mr. Darcy!”
Miss Bingley’s piercing voice echoed throughout the chamber, bringing more than one wince in its wake. Though she was nearly incoherent with fury, Darcy faced her, caring nothing for her displeasure. Mrs. Hurst, who had arrived with her sister only moments before, appeared resigned, while Hurst was muttering something about noise and brandy. Bingley watched the scene, his posture easy, as if he expected to derive some enjoyment from this confrontation, while Georgiana appeared impatient.
“Did I not send you to Meryton to prevent this catastrophe?” demanded the woman, too angry to pay any attention to her brother’s presence—or perhaps not caring. “It has been weeks, and now I learn that Charles has proposed to the little chit.”
“Careful, Caroline,” said Bingley, his tone infused with warning. “That woman will one day be your sister. Unless you choose to live with Louisa, you live here onmysufferance. I will not take kindly to such comments about my wife.”
“And let me correct you,” added Darcy. “You did notdispatchme to Meryton. At the time, yes, I agreed with your assessment, but I always knew the choice was your brother’s.”
“Oh yes,” exclaimed Miss Bingley, bitterness upon her offense. “Charles has proven just how capable he is ofchoosingin a matter that carries heavy consequences for us all.”
“Please, Caroline, continue,” said Bingley, dark amusement coloring his tone, “for I find your opinion fascinating.”
Miss Bingley only shot her brother a withering look. “This is madness, Brother. Miss Bennet can do nothing for us in society—the very notion of introducing her in town is insupportable.”
“And yet, you have no choice but to support it, Caroline, for I shall not recant.”
Darcy could almost hear the grinding of Miss Bingley’s teeth. “I shall not accept her. She will be censured and despised in London, and you will be made a laughingstock.”
