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“I am fascinated,” he remarked, leaving the young lady looking stupid.

* * *

The aggrieved young lady’s ensuing words, spoken under her breath, were inaudible to Elizabeth’s ears. However, Elizabeth had not been entirely oblivious to the young lady sitting at the table throughout breakfast. She watched out of the corner of her eye as a scowl formed on Miss Bingley’s face. Obviously, the young woman was not happy about what she saw happening mere feet away.

Elizabeth was not sure what to make of her peevish expression. Did she view Mr. Darcy as her own rightful property? Was she annoyed that he was shirking her attention and flirtations and engaging in conversation with the most unlikely prospect—a young woman he had just met and whose family had no wealth or influence to offer?

Despite her attempts to appear reconciled, Caroline was outraged that her brother had married Jane Bennet. Elizabeth knew Caroline felt no fondness for anyone else in the Bennet family. But, most of all, she despised Elizabeth.

Miss Bingley was biting her bottom lip, sighing loudly and often, and looking to draw attention to herself. She definitely was having an uneasy moment, a very unladylike one at that.

The last thing Elizabeth wanted was to give rise to Miss Bingley’s jealousy, especially if such concerns genuinely called for such a sentiment.

After all, what did she know about the gentleman seated next to her? He had given the slightest hints of an attachment. But heavens forbid said attachment involved Caroline Bingley. What a harrowing thought, indeed. One which Elizabeth was not in the mood to entertain.

She had promised herself that her night with Mr. Darcy was a one-time occurrence, at best, and certainly not something she was likely to repeat any time soon, at most. Elizabeth had resolved to marry Mr. William Collins, her duplicitous cousin and heir to her late father’s estate, to save her family from losing Longbourn. She had no time for distractions.

Turning her attention to her brother-in-law, Charles Bingley, Elizabeth asked, “How is my sister this morning?”

“Quite well, Elizabeth. She is looking well and feeling well, too. She is happy as can be, as you can very well imagine the reason.”

Elizabeth smiled knowingly, for Bingley was no doubt referring to his wife’s being with child—the joyful news which Jane had shared with Elizabeth the day before and unknowingly set the stage for Elizabeth’s current predicament.

“I am happy to hear that,” said Elizabeth. “I look forward to seeing her before returning to Longbourn.”

“I know it will delight her to see you,” said Charles. “Pray, let me know when you plan to take your leave, and I shall call for a carriage.”

“Thank you, Charles. However, that is entirely unnecessary. I much prefer to walk. After last night, I am in desperate want of the exertion.” Despite her nocturnal activities, Elizabeth was bursting with energy, or maybe she was so energized because of them. All she knew was she was in no hurry to relinquish her memories from last night to the unpleasant reality of what awaited her at Longbourn—an excitable mother, three silly younger sisters, and her ridiculous intended.

“Yes, of course,” said Charles, nodding his head.

Elizabeth dabbed her mouth with her napkin, placed it aside, and stood to take her leave.

She had taken but a few paces before Mr. Darcy cleared his throat, setting his cup aside. “Pardon me as well, Charles. I have matters to attend with my man, Waters, which will not wait.”

“Of course,” replied Charles.

Miss Bingley stood just as Mr. Darcy did. She raced to him and tried blocking his path.

“Mr. Darcy,” she said, interlacing her arm with his. “It is so long since I last saw you. We have not seen each other in months. I am hoping we might spend the morning getting reacquainted—just the two of us.”

Elizabeth’s gaze widened. She could not believe Miss Bingley’s audacity.

“Miss Bingley!” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the young lady most peculiarly, as though thoroughly displeased with what she had said. He snatched his arm away from her touch as if he had felt a sharp sting shoot up it from her hand to his elbow and wanted to get rid of the sensation as quickly as possible. He turned on his heels and strode out of the room, right past Elizabeth standing near the doorway, staring after him, utterly shocked at the scene that had just played out in front of her eyes.

Miss Bingley called out, “Oh, Mr. Darcy! I just remembered that I have something of immense importance to discuss with you. Let us take a turn around the garden so we may talk.”

Mr. Darcy did not slow his pace. He kept walking.

“Mr. Darcy! Wait for me!” Miss Bingley called out even louder.

“Caroline, please,” came Charles’s voice.

“Oh, very well,” said Miss Bingley, resigning herself.

Elizabeth could have sworn that there was something akin to pain in the woman’s voice.

Elizabeth was not sure she liked what she had witnessed. She was certain that what transpired was not at all proper. Would not the right thing for a gentleman to have done be to attend to the lady, however inconvenient it might prove?