Chapter 15
INEXPLICABLE YEARNING
Elizabeth and Jane were enjoying a walk about the garden, arm in arm, contemplating the events of the day ahead. At last, after several weeks had passed since their arrival at Pemberley, they were to meet young Miss Georgiana Darcy.
Elizabeth did not know which of the two of them suffered the greater share of anticipation over the pending occasion, her sister or herself.
For Jane’s part, Elizabeth desperately hoped the meeting would go exceedingly well.
Having had a chance to walk with Mr. Darcy quite by chance on more than a few early morning occasions, Elizabeth had grown even more aware of what making a favorable impression on his young sister would mean to the gentleman himself.
Of course, she need not worry as much as she did.
From all she had surmised during her talks with Mr. Darcy, his sister would love Jane very much.
On the other hand, the gentleman had given hints that his sister was just as eager to meet Elizabeth as she was to meet Jane.
Elizabeth could hardly imagine why that might be.
As best she could tell, what possible difference could it make?
Then she began to consider that perhaps the young lady was simply looking forward to the day when Jane might be mistress of Pemberley …
that and the general expectation that Elizabeth would remain at Pemberley for the unforeseeable future as Jane accustomed herself to her new station in life.
No doubt such an occasion would afford Miss Darcy and me prodigious opportunity to spend time in each other’s company. Indeed, it is essential that we get along very well.
Upon examining their watches, the Bennet sisters retraced their path in haste to return to the manor house to meet Miss Georgiana Darcy.
Much to their delight, they were to have a private meeting with the young woman, which again gave Elizabeth to wonder.
Part of gauging the young woman’s character, in Elizabeth’s mind, was seeing how she got along with Miss Bingley.
Were the two ladies truly as fond of each other as the latter boasted?
If they were, then Elizabeth was certain it would be a consideration on how she would act and how her sister ought to act as well.
Shortly thereafter, Jane and Elizabeth were sitting in the drawing room when the doors swung open and in walked Fitzwilliam Darcy, accompanied by an angelic young creature whose bright eyes and golden hair immediately summoned a younger incarnation of her own dear sister Jane.
The two sisters exchanged the briefest of glances—a silent affirmation of sorts that they were of the same mind.
Once the formidable introductions were over, Elizabeth was at liberty to sit back and observe her own sister engage with the young lady she might one day know as her sister’s sister-in-law.
Miss Darcy was tall, and although little more than six and ten, her figure was formed and her appearance, womanly and graceful.
The young woman was less handsome than her brother, but there was sense and good humor in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle.
A few minutes’ observation persuaded Elizabeth that young Miss Darcy was exceedingly shy. Indeed, she found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a monosyllable.
Elizabeth was not unaware of the way Mr. Darcy observed his sister interacting with Jane and her. Judging by his smiles, he was pleased with all that he saw. Thoroughly comforted by his unspoken approval, she breathed a sigh of relief, for this must all mean something good for her sister.
The four of them had not been together for very long before Elizabeth was absolutely convinced that Miss Georgiana Darcy was nothing at all like Miss Bingley.
No—the two of them could not possibly be intimate acquaintances.
Miss Georgiana was like the sun, capable of bringing warmth and comfort to anyone’s day.
It was no wonder that her older brother doted on her so.
Miss Bingley, on the other hand, had the sort of character that dampened even the brightest day and in the worse possible way.
Elizabeth wondered at even her own brother’s ability to tolerate her for very long stretches of time before having his fill of her unpleasantness.
As though thinking of Bingley was enough to summon his presence, before long the amiable gentleman strode into the room.
Elizabeth could honestly say that Miss Darcy seemed genuinely pleased to see her older brother’s friend.
Surely there was some affection of a long standing between the two of them.
Elizabeth did not have very long to contemplate the true extent of their esteem for one another, for the manner in which her own sister’s countenance overspread with joyous delight took Elizabeth quite by surprise.
If she noticed the change in her sister’s demeanor, then certainly Mr. Darcy noticed it too. Looking at him in wonder, she detected no symptom whatsoever of concern.
Is it simply a matter of knowing and trusting his friend so well, or does he simply not care?
Before she could tear her gaze away from the gentleman in search of answers to unasked questions, their eyes met.
Elizabeth’s heart slammed against her chest as it often did when he looked at her that way.
As much as she wished to remain in the room and spend more time getting acquainted with young Miss Darcy, she did not know that she could.
A sudden inexplicable yearning to be alone with Fitzwilliam Darcy was more than she could bear.
Elizabeth made some excuse of needing to be elsewhere while encouraging the others not to suspend their pleasure on her behalf and escaped the room in haste.
Once she was outside the door and assured of her privacy, she braced herself against an opposite wall, closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her eyes still closed, she exhaled.
What on Earth has come over me?
Opening her eyes, she was caught completely off guard for she was no longer alone.
“Mr. Darcy!”
“Pray you are all right, Miss Elizabeth?””
Her heart pounding, Elizabeth did not know how to look or how to feel. Did his following me arouse the suspicions of the others?
“Are you ill?” He asked, taking her hand in his. In an instant, he seized the other. “Your hands are cold. Pray accompany me inside,” he gestured toward the closed door just a few feet from where they stood. “I shall get you a glass of wine.”
Conflicted as to whether to accept or decline his request, she said nothing at first. This growing longing inside of her for the man who was meant for her sister was taking its toll on her sensibilities.
Perhaps I ought to accept his offer of a glass of wine, she silently considered.
Anything that will calm the warring sentiments in my mind and quell the bewildering bevy of sensations coursing through every fiber of my being.
“The blue room is seldom used. I shall pour a glass of wine for you, and once I am certain you are well, I shall leave you to your leisure. No one need know you and I were ever alone, if that is what concerns you. Need I remind you, you are safe with me.”
She may be safe with him, for he was, in every way that mattered, the consummate gentleman, but would he be so gallant if he were privy to her private thoughts?
If he had the slightest hint of all the liberties she allowed him even if in her mind?
Even if she was not quite certain of his intentions toward her sister, of one thing Elizabeth was absolutely certain, and that was that she had Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy’s good opinion.
Would he think as highly of me as his behavior toward me portends if he knew the depth of my unspoken longing for him?
She swallowed hard. Finding her voice, she said, “Sir, there is really nothing the matter with me—that is to say, nothing a brisk walk will not cure.”
“I am happy to accompany you,” he immediately offered, “that is, should you wish for my company. I can think of nothing that I would rather do.”
She trembled a little inside hearing his speech. “Once again, I must say you are very kind, sir. But I am afraid I must decline.”
“Afraid? Afraid of what Miss Elizabeth?” he asked, his eyes so intense, she felt as though he had a window into her very soul.
Afraid—afraid of you, of us, of this! Elizabeth silently screamed. No reply was needed as mere moments later, Charles Bingley, Miss Darcy, and Jane emerged from the room, the ladies on either side of the gentleman.
Thank heavens, Elizabeth thought, even more grateful that she had not accepted Darcy’s offer of a glass of wine moments earlier.
Bingley said, “Darcy! Miss Elizabeth! How fortunate for the three of us that both of you are still here. Pray the two of you will join us for a walk about the park. It will be a most refreshing change of pace, do you not agree, Darcy?”
“Indeed, I believe a walk is precisely what is in order.”
Elizabeth, determined as ever to get as far away from the gentleman as soon as possible, said, “In such case as this, I say that the four of you should go. You would be charmingly grouped, just the four of you, and I fear the picturesque would be spoiled by admitting a fifth. Good day,” she stated, bowing. As soon as that she went on her way.
Rushing straight to her room, she did not look back to see what had become of her former companions.
She suspected rather than knew that Fitzwilliam Darcy had taken his place by Jane’s side as he well ought to, but how could she really be certain without turning and looking?
Perhaps, she simply did not wish to know.
An all too familiar yearning deep inside her was all she could think about at the moment. Really all she wanted to think about.
Finding answers to her body’s questions in Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy’s arms.
She shook her head no, even as she had by now entered her apartment and locked the door behind her.
I shall conquer this, she considered as she slowly and tentatively approached her bed.
Standing there, she picked up a soft satin pillow and clutched it to her bosom.
She affirmed once again, I shall conquer this.
Stepping away from the bed and toward the window, her eyes were drawn to the party of three strolling along at leisure.
Her sister, his sister, his friend. But not him.
Where is he? Elizabeth wondered, gazing over her shoulder in response to what she imagined was a light tap on her door. Her locked door. Did she dare respond? Far better to ignore whomever it was, if indeed there was anyone there at all. Far safer, to simply pretend. To simply imagine him there.