Page 23 of Conundrums & Coincidences

For two hours Darcy sat in a pew between Miss Rigby on his left and Mr Hadley on his right. He attentively listened to prayers, Bible readings, a sermon from the pulpit, the soft whispers of Elizabeth and Mr Hadley, and a jealous voice in his head urging him to tell the two of them to hush.

Darcy also prayed. He prayed he would have Elizabeth on his arm for the return walk, and he prayed she and Mr Hadley had not formed an attachment.

After the service, the congregation lingered in the churchyard, smiling and creating a happy hubbub of chatter and laughter. Adding to the morning’s idyll, male birds in nearby trees provided bursts of musical vocalisation. Darcy knew they sang not to entertain humans but rather for territorial purposes. Perhaps I should serenade Elizabeth. What folly that would be.

Meanwhile, under the watchful eye of Mr Monroe, and with that innate ease of his, Mr Hadley mingled amongst people with whom he was unacquainted. Ah yes, but how well does the youngster warble?

Darcy wandered over to where Miss Rigby and Elizabeth chatted with the vicar’s wife and joined their discussion about her husband’s inspiring sermon. “I appreciated,” said he, “that Mr Smith’s message about hope arose naturally from biblical text.”

Mrs Smith smiled and thanked him on her husband’s behalf. Then she leant in and whispered as though she was about to impart a great secret. “I suspect my dear Mr Smith was also inspired, at least a little, by a novel we recently took turns reading aloud to one another. Sense and Sensibility. In the story, the Mrs Dashwood character says, ‘Know your own happiness. You want nothing but patience—or give it a more fascinating name, call it hope.’”

“I read that story several times and know some favourite bits by heart,” said Elizabeth. “Elinor knew that whatever her sister and mother conjectured one moment, they believed the next. ‘With them, to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.’”

Miss Rigby admitted she had not read the novel. “Nevertheless, there is much to be said on the subject of hope. We treasure and anticipate our wish for fulfilment, even in the midst of disappointment. One should remain expectant.” Darcy thought the chaperon, a spinster, looked rather wistful as she added, “Without wishes, we forget to have hope.”

“Oh yes,” agreed Mrs Smith, “and we must lean on, and trust in, our faith.”

“And we must have faith that our wishes and hopes will be fulfilled.” Darcy’s eyes strayed to Elizabeth. “At least in some measure or manner.” There had been no ulterior motive for his joining the three ladies, but it was to his advantage that he was there to offer Elizabeth his arm once everyone in their party agreed it was time to set off for Oakwood.

It also was advantageous that, somewhere along the way, he and she outstripped Miss Rigby, who was walking arm in arm with both Mr Monroe and Mr Hadley. They were not too far behind, just conveniently out of earshot.

As it had been on the hilly, wooded path the day prior, Darcy and Elizabeth walked awhile without speaking. She seemed pensive, and he observed her in compassionate silence, wishing he knew what she was thinking.

“Are you well, Miss Bennet?”

“Indeed I am, thank you. I am only distressed by some dreadful words I heard spoken yesterday.” Releasing his arm, she fidgeted with a button on one of her kid gloves, and he was bereft of her touch.

She had seemed so light-hearted mere minutes ago. Wondering whose dreadful words had caused her distress, Darcy glanced behind, assuming it had been one of those three. In wretched suspense and commiseration, he waited.

Silently he wished he had the privilege to enfold her in his arms, to let her pour out her heart to him, to wipe away her tears, and, yes, to kiss away her troubles and take them upon himself. Would that day ever come? Ah, but without wishes, one forgets to have hope.

“Mr Darcy, this is going to sound exceedingly brazen of me, but I desperately need to speak to someone. And that someone is you, but we must do so in private.”

Wishes and hopes were all well and good, but he would not let his heart run away with expectation. He leant in a bit, gentling his tone. “I shall arrange something.” How that was to be accomplished, he did not know. Mr Monroe had made it clear the beneficiaries were constantly watched.

“Thank you. I fear I am being utterly shameless in my impudence and presumptuousness this morning, but may I enquire about your…” She leant away from him and shook her head. “No, I cannot. Perhaps I am not as shameless as I thought.”

Slowing his pace, he turned to her. “Must I frighten you?”

“Frighten me? I do not understand.”

She had given him such an appalled look that he almost laughed. “Perhaps it is I who misunderstood…at Rosings. I thought you said you had an obstinacy that never allowed you to be frightened by, or of, others and that your fearsome intrepidity invariably reared its head at intimidation. Ergo, I thought that if I were to frighten you, your stubbornness and courage would surge to such a degree that you would become outrageously impudent.”

“Outrageously impudent?”

“What I meant to say is that you would become brave enough to enquire about my… What, exactly?”

Smiling at him, Elizabeth shook her head. “After all that, how can I not ask?” Her smile faded. “It is just that I am concerned on your behalf and wonder at your, um, attentions to”—she winced—“Miss Kensett.” Blushing, she bit her bottom lip.

His brow furrowed. “Would you have me behave otherwise? Shall I openly display my selfish disdain of her for everyone to witness? I am trying to behave in a more gentlemanlike manner than that, madam.”

“I have noticed, sir, and I appreciate and commend your efforts.” She spoke her next words in a near whisper. “It is just that Miss Kensett is… She is…”

“She is…the subject you wish to speak of privately?”

“Partially, yes.”

“And if I enquired about Mr Hadley’s attentions to you?”