Lady Catherine peered at her through narrowed eyes, and Elizabeth wondered whether she had spoken too warmly—had it added to the woman’s suspicions of an attachment betweenMr Darcy and herself? What did it matter? Soon enough, Mr Darcy would return, theywouldbe engaged, and he would inform his relations.
“If my nephew is foolhardy enough to propose to you, to actually marry you, he will not be recognised by his family. We will not share his disgrace. I see who you truly are, Elizabeth Bennet. I hoped to find you reasonable, but since you are not, I know what to do. Find another dupe to marry you. It will never be my nephew!”
With these final words, Lady Catherine turned and quickly strode about the side of the house, presumably to her carriage.
“Good riddance,” Elizabeth said with a little laugh.
Shaking off her impulse to yell at the retreating figure, Elizabeth walked in the opposite direction Lady Catherine had taken, following the path to the stream. There, she found a safe spot to dip her handkerchief into the cool water, which she then pressed to her heated cheeks. It would help calm her before she returned to the house. She wished she had a way to inform Mr Darcy of his aunt’s agitation. It might prepare him for whatever Lady Catherine would say to him. Elizabeth knew it would not be pleasant, but he was likely used to her manner and would manage her better than Elizabeth had.
He will be back soon, perhaps even tomorrow. We can discuss our shared experiences with the redoubtable Lady Catherine de Bourgh!Silently, she chuckled at her joke.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Every day, Elizabeth looked for Mr Darcy, hoping, even expecting, that he would accompany Mr Bingley when he came to Longbourn in time for breakfast. She listened carefully for any mention Mr Bingley made of his friend. There was nothing. At first, she thought little of it. It was disappointing, very much so, and she missed him dearly, but he had been uncertain about the length of his absence.
But a week became a fortnight and then longer still, and there was no sight of Mr Darcy, not even an offhand remark from Mr Bingley about him being held up in town for some reason. Any excuse would do; Elizabeth did not care what it was, she just wanted to know that their prolonged separation was unavoidable and would soon end.
She thought of him constantly, seemingly more so each day, and she felt herself becoming increasingly unsocial. Fortunately, the weather did not preclude walking, and she spent as much time as she could on her own, imagining her reunionwith Mr Darcy and holding ever more frantic debates with herself about why he was staying away so long.
Mr Bingley and Jane had selected a date for their wedding in early December, which was six weeks away, and Mrs Bennet was managing to find a way to occupy every waking hour with planning the event and preparing Jane for her life as Mrs Bingley. Jane was understandably eager, but Elizabeth sensed her own heart had gained another crack by the time she crawled into bed each night. How could it be otherwise, when she had expected to be an engaged lady too?
No longer able to bear the growing uncertainty, at the end of October, she asked Mr Bingley about his friend. They were at a soirée at Haye-Park, and she seized a chance moment alone with him. Her heart thudded so loudly that the sound filled her ears.
“I understood Mr Darcy planned to return. Have his intentions changed, or-or do you expect to see him soon?”
Despite the dim light in the drawing room, Elizabeth thought Mr Bingley’s cheeks darkened, and she sensed that he was not happy with his friend. Only then did it occur to Elizabeth that his absence could be taken as a lack of support for Jane and Mr Bingley’s betrothment. Mr Darcy had been uncertain whether Mr Bingley would forgive him for his previous interference; surely he would not want to give him reason to question whether he had been wise to do so.
“Yes…that is, Idoexpect he will be here sooner or later. I hope he will be here for the wedding. I want him to stand up with me, but he would give me no promise. In truth, his explanation for why he might not was not at all clear, which is unlike him. I think he thought he might come sooner, but then he had to go to Pemberley, if I recall correctly. The harvest andwhat have you. Oh, there is Mr Stuart! I have been wanting to ask him something. If you will excuse me.”
He hurried away. Elizabeth hardly noticed. She was too empty, too numb to feel anything. There was no mistaking that Mr Darcy had made an excuse to avoid returning to Hertfordshire—to avoid returning to her.
Elizabeth did not speak to anyone for the remainder of their time at Haye-Park. When her mother remarked on how stupid she was being, she claimed a headache and, upon reaching Longbourn, immediately excused herself. No doubt her emotions would soon overtake her, and she would not let them show until she was alone.
Mr Darcy had decided against proposing again; there was no other explanation. Really, she ought to have realised it a fortnight or three weeks ago, but she had not wanted to admit it to herself. Mr Bingley’s words meant she had no choice but to accept it. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, and once she was in her room, she threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow, hoping it would muffle the noise of her sorrow.
Although she eventually fell asleep, the next morning, Elizabeth felt as though she had been awake for a week. She was still in her night clothes when Jane came into her bedchamber. A malaise had settled over her, and despite wanting to seek the comfort of the open air, she could not find it within herself to put on a day dress and go out.
“Oh, Lizzy, you look very poorly. Is it your head?” Jane caressed her cheek and sat beside her on the bed.
The only answer she could offer was a slight shrug. Attempting to do more might end with her sobbing.
Jane wrapped an arm about her shoulders. “I wish youwould tell me what troubles you. I have seen that you are not your usual self this last fortnight, but I do not know why.”
“I am sorry if my mood has caused you anxiety. This is such a happy time for you, and I would not have you worry for me.”
“Of course I worry for you!” Jane gave her shoulder a brief squeeze. “If you truly do not wish to, I shall not force you to confide in me, but…does it have to do with Mr Darcy?”
Elizabeth started.
“Bingley told me you asked about Mr Darcy returning. He was supposed to be here weeks ago, but now he writes that his plans are uncertain. Bingley is confused, and I admit to you alone, I think he is injured by his friend’s manner.” Jane paused before saying, “Bingley told me you saw each other a great deal when you were in Lambton—that you and Mr and Miss Darcy were often in company. Why did you never tell me?”
Knowing she would be unable to control her response if she spoke, Elizabeth only shook her head.
“He believes you and Mr Darcy have become friends, which gladdens him, given how little you liked each other last year. Knowing what passed between you in the spring, I wonder whether there is something more we do not know.”
An involuntary whimper escaped Elizabeth.
“Lizzy, please, I beg of you, tell me.”
