Chapter 13
SOLE COMPANION
Miss Georgiana Darcy was set to return to Pemberley within a few days.
Already Elizabeth had heard a great deal about the young lady, for no one boasted more of the young woman’s accomplishments than Miss Bingley.
The young lady’s eager commendations echoed in Elizabeth mind: “I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”
With such accomplishments as all these and not yet sixteen, Elizabeth could hardly wait to meet young Miss Darcy.
On the other hand, if the two of them are so intimate as Miss Bingley suggests, I wonder how Miss Darcy will react to our being here, Elizabeth silently reflected.
Despite the difference in the ages of the Darcy siblings, Elizabeth surmised based upon her earlier conversation with Mr. Darcy regarding his sister that he must surely hold her in great esteem.
Despite having never seen the two of them together, Elizabeth surmised he would do everything in his power to see to his sister’s happiness.
Closing her book, Elizabeth shook her head.
Must my every thought lead me back to Fitzwilliam Darcy?
She set her book aside and stood. Smoothing her dress, she said aloud, “I think I shall seek out my sister. She and I do not spend nearly so much time together as we ought. She is, after all, the reason I am here.”
A casual glance out the window, put an end to that particular scheme of spending a few hours or so before dinner with her sister, for she espied Jane and Mr. Bingley sitting in the garden, no doubt engaged in pleasant repartee, were Elizabeth to judge by Bingley’s animated manner.
Not quite knowing what to make of the gentleman’s eager attention toward her sister, she began to wonder if the young man was even aware of the reason for the Bennets’ presence at Pemberley.
Unless, I am mistaken, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are close friends. Surely the latter would have spoken to his friend about his own intentions toward my sister.
Or lack thereof, another part of her whispered. Before she could chastise herself for doubting Mr. Darcy’s intentions, the gentleman appeared just ahead on the path. Although, not alone, for he was heading in Jane and Bingley’s direction with Miss Bingley attached to his arm.
The looming spectacle of it all was too much for Elizabeth to ignore, and she staked out a spot by the window to watch the unfolding events.
What a relief it was to see Mr. Darcy free himself from his tenacious walking companion and attend Jane.
What a pleasure it was to espy Miss Bingley’s unmitigated dismay.
Elizabeth might have suffered an occasional doubt from time to time about the gentleman’s affections for her sister, but she was utterly and completely satisfied that he had absolutely no intentions toward Miss Bingley.
Watching the lady pretend otherwise proved quite entertaining indeed.
As entertaining as it was watching the four of them, Elizabeth’s diversion was soon ended.
Miss Caroline, no doubt in her eagerness to get Jane as far away from Mr. Darcy as she could, reached for Jane’s arm and not so subtly coaxed her away from the gentlemen, who then set off in the direction of the stables.
It seemed horseback riding was the order of the day for the men and a leisurely stroll for the ladies.
Not content to see her sister spend any time alone with the pernicious Miss Bingley, Elizabeth surrendered her spot by the window. If I am quick about it, I will reach Jane and her cunning companion before they get very far.
Eagerly, Elizabeth headed down the grand staircase with the intention of joining Jane and Miss Bingley.
In her haste, she nearly collided with none other than Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Once again, she found herself in his arms. Her heart slammed against her chest. Her embarrassment almost complete, she uttered, “Mr. Darcy!”
His hands resting on either of her arms, he said, “Miss Elizabeth.” As if remembering himself, he dropped his hands to his sides and then clasped them behind his back.
“Sir, I thought you were going riding with your friend Mr. Bingley,” she said without thinking of what such a revelation foretold.
He shook his head slightly. “No. Why would you think that, Miss Elizabeth?”
“I—I—” What was she going to say? She did not dare confess that she had been spying on him mere moments ago.
Even if he suspected the truth of the matter, he seemed much too much of a gentleman to tell her. Instead, he asked, “Where are you going?” He cleared his throat. “Pardon, what I meant to say is you appeared to be in a great hurry.”
“Indeed. I was about to go out for a walk about the park before it is time to dress for dinner.”
“I was given to believe you preferred early morning rambles,” he said.
“I am very fond of walking regardless of the hour, sir.”
“It would appear so. Indeed, it is a fondness that you and I share. I would be more than happy to accompany you.”
She held up her hand. “No!”
The look that spread across his handsome countenance informed her of his disappointment.
It could not be helped. The last thing she needed was to spend time alone with him.
It was not as though she did not spend most of her time thinking of him, recounting his every word, his every gesture, his every look.
On the other hand, the disappointed look on his face was something she did not particularly like seeing.
“Pray, forgive me. I suppose what I meant to say is you are very kind. However, you seemed to be in a hurry as well. I am afraid I have detained you for far too long.” With that said, she curtsied.
“I must be on my way.” Before he could protest, Elizabeth was well on her way—her sole companion, a deep exhale.
Later that evening, when the ladies removed themselves to the drawing room after dinner, Elizabeth was once again amazed by the outpouring of affection from the Bingley sisters toward Jane.
Indeed, she had never seen them so agreeable.
Their powers of conversation were considerable, and their wit flowed long as they described past entertainments with accuracy, related amusing stories with humor, and laughed at the expense of sundry acquaintances who were known only to themselves with heightened spirits.
However, when all the gentlemen, save Mr. Bennet and the elder Mr. Darcy, entered the room, Jane was no longer the younger sister’s first object.
Fitzwilliam Darcy immediately claimed that honor, and she went directly to him before he had advanced very far.
He addressed Miss Bingley in a manner which must surely please any young woman, and a polite conversation ensued.
Mr. Hurst made his way directly to the nearest sofa and struck a comfortable pose signaling his intention to partake in an after-dinner nap.
Charles Bingley, whose countenance was steeped in joyfulness, joined his elder sister, Louisa, and Jane; thereby prompting the former to occupy herself by playing with her bracelets and rings.
Only occasionally did she engage with the young couple.
Miss Anne de Bourgh and her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, sat in a lonely corner of the room, both choosing to rely on their own company, the latter fussing over the former’s footstool.
As for Elizabeth herself, she sat in the opposite corner with her book in hand, ostensibly for the purposes of reading when, in truth, she secretly delighted in the spectacle of it all.
It did not take very long before Fitzwilliam Darcy’s attention toward Miss Bingley faded, for he left her standing in the same place where she had originally accosted him.
Elizabeth’s stomach fluttered for a moment or two when the gentleman appeared to be headed in her direction.
She exhaled inside when, in fact, he made an about turn in Jane’s direction.
This time she smiled. Everything is progressing exactly as it ought to this evening.
Her joy was short lived, however, for instead of joining Jane and her companions, the gentleman went to another part of the room, picked up the book he had been reading the evening before and progressed through the pages until he came upon the place he had left off.
If his intention had been to escape Miss Bingley, then he had failed miserably for she would not be deterred.
She also had a book at her disposal, no doubt in anticipation of such an occasion, and she went to where the gentleman sat.
Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy’s progress through his book as in reading her own, and she was perpetually either making some inquiry on the story or looking at his page.
She could not, however, succeed in engaging him in any meaningful conversation.
He merely answered her questions in monosyllables and resumed reading.
At length, quite exhausted by her half-hearted attempt to amuse herself with her own book, Miss Bingley declared, “How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way!”
Elizabeth found that she could not deny the truth of those words. She would have preferred it if Fitzwilliam Darcy was the one sitting next to her sister, encouraging her smiles. However, watching him ignore Miss Bingley was a fitting alternative.
In response to her sitting companion’s continuing inattentiveness, Miss Bingley said, “I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading. How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book. When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library. Indeed, nothing short of a library, the likes of the one here at Pemberley will do.”