THREE
Lucas Lodge.
Darcy
A fortnight had elapsed without any meaningful encounter between Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
He had seen her twice in company, briefly and at a distance, and upon both occasions she had appeared perfectly sensible of his presence and perfectly disinclined to acknowledge it.
She did not seek his eye. She placed herself apart from him with a natural ease that might have appeared accidental to anyone not observing her particularly closely.
Darcy was observing her particularly closely.
He could not determine whether she was merely indifferent to him or whether she had perceived him watching her at the assembly and had resolved, with some deliberation, that she had no wish to be observed.
In either case, the result was the same.
He had learned nothing further, and the question which had occupied far more of his thoughts than he considered entirely reasonable remained unresolved.
He was tolerably certain of what he had seen.
Lip-reading was not a common accomplishment.
In his experience, it was possessed almost exclusively by those whose hearing could not always be depended upon.
He had reflected upon the matter many times in the fortnight since the assembly, the accuracy of it, the ease with which she had done it, the manner in which she had repeated his words without a moment's hesitation, and he could not make it signify anything other than what it appeared to signify.
He required certainty.
When Sir William's invitation to an evening at Lucas Lodge arrived, Darcy resolved to make use of the occasion.
The carriage that evening conveyed himself, Georgiana, Bingley, and Miss Bingley.
The Hursts followed in their own. Darcy sat beside his sister and occupied himself with what he had been attempting, with very little success, for the past fortnight: drawing her out of herself.
Georgiana had spent the greater part of the previous two weeks indoors.
Her days were divided between the pianoforte, walks about the grounds of Netherfield, and various needlework projects undertaken with Mrs. Annesley, occupations which, though respectable, could scarcely be called an engagement with the wider world.
Anxiety on her account had rendered him thoughtful all evening, and Miss Bingley's constant complaints regarding country society did nothing to improve his humour.
"It has not been nearly so bad as all that," Bingley said, dismissing his sister's argument that the assemblies they had attended bore no comparison to those of London. "Meryton knows very well how to conduct a ball. I have found them exceedingly pleasant."
"Have you indeed, Charles?" Miss Bingley's smile was thin. "Or does your eagerness to dance with Miss Bennet upon every possible occasion somewhat influence your judgement?"
"What I enjoy, and how often I dance with any particular lady, are entirely my own concerns, Caroline." Bingley did not look at her. "You might concern yourself with securing partners of your own."
Miss Bingley drew a sharp breath, recovered herself with visible effort, and turned to Darcy.
"Perhaps you might speak some sense to your friend, Mr. Darcy. I fear he is becoming the victim of ambitious mothers and their designs."
"I see no reason to interfere in Bingley's affairs," Darcy replied. "Nor do I perceive any design worth remarking upon."
Bingley turned toward the window with a look of satisfaction. Miss Bingley subsided into a silence that conveyed her displeasure more effectively than words.
Georgiana said nothing. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, watching the dark road ahead, present and absent in equal measure.
After a pause, Darcy seized the opportunity to make further enquiries concerning Miss Elizabeth.
"The Bennet family are well regarded in the neighbourhood, I collect," he said to no one in particular.
"Universally," Bingley replied. "Mr. Bennet is one of the most entertaining gentlemen I have ever met.
Though I do not think he much enjoys outdoor pursuits.
I am persuaded you will like him. Mrs. Bennet is.
.. spirited. All the daughters are generally liked, but the elder girls are especially agreeable. "
"And Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy kept his tone easy enough to disguise his interest. "What is generally said of her?"
Bingley glanced at him with mild curiosity.
"Lively. Very clever. Fond of walking in all weather, I am told. Why do you ask?"
"She struck me as thoughtful," Darcy said carelessly. "I wondered whether she preferred smaller gatherings to larger ones. Whether she found rooms such as the assembly, the noise, the crowd, fatiguing."
Bingley considered the question.
"I could not say. Miss Bennet has never mentioned anything of the sort. Miss Elizabeth always appears perfectly at her ease."
"She does," Darcy agreed.
"Why do you ask?" Miss Bingley's eyes sharpened with immediate interest. "Has she said or done anything to suggest otherwise?"
"Not at all," Darcy replied. "I merely find those who observe more interesting than those who strive to attract notice. I wondered whether it was disposition or habit."
Miss Bingley appeared dissatisfied with the answer, but her interest soon faded. Bingley returned his attention to the window. Georgiana glanced briefly at her brother, said nothing, and looked away once more.
Darcy allowed his thoughts to return to the subject which had occupied them so frequently of late.
No one appeared to have noticed anything unusual about Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
That fact alone was instructive. Unless he had entirely mistaken the matter, Miss Elizabeth concealed her difficulty exceedingly well.
If there is a difficulty to conceal at all, he thought.
Before the evening was over, he intended to know the truth.
The carriage turned through the gates of Lucas Lodge. Lamps burned along the drive, and the house stood warm and welcoming against the darkness of the October evening. Darcy adjusted his coat and offered Georgiana his arm as they descended.
"You need not remain beside me all evening," she said quietly.
"I do not intend to remain beside you all evening. At present, I am merely escorting you through a doorway."
The corner of her mouth moved.
It was not quite a smile. It was nearer one than he had managed in a fortnight, and he was willing to be satisfied with that.
"There is someone I should like you to meet this evening," Darcy said as they approached the entrance.
"Whom?"
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
Georgiana looked at him with mild surprise. "Why?"
"I shall explain later. For tonight, you must simply trust me."
The house was warm and considerably fuller than he had expected. Sir William Lucas received them at the door with all the hospitality for which he was known.
Much to his surprise, Miss Bingley detached herself from her brother and crossed immediately to Miss Bennet, taking her hand with every appearance of particular pleasure.
The display was so studied that Darcy was instantly suspicious.
He made a mental note to caution Bingley against his sister's interference.
There was something in Caroline's smile which inspired distrust rather than confidence.
Having promised Georgiana greater freedom, Darcy released her arm and watched her settle into a chair near the window, where she might observe the company without being required to participate in it. He then turned his attention to the room.
He found Elizabeth almost immediately.
She stood beside the refreshment table with Charlotte Lucas, positioned, as he had expected, with a clear view of the entrance and the room beyond.
She appeared to be listening to Miss Lucas, though her attention seemed divided amongst the various activities unfolding around her in that same quiet, methodical manner he had observed at the Meryton assembly and considered repeatedly during the preceding fortnight.
She had not yet seen him.
Or so he believed.
He was no longer inclined to doubt himself. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was observing the room with purpose.
He began to cross towards her.
He was perhaps halfway across when Charlotte Lucas noticed something on the far side of the room, her mother, by the look of it. She touched Elizabeth lightly upon the arm in farewell and moved away.
Elizabeth watched her depart, turned back to the room, and found Darcy standing before her.
She did not start. She did not retreat. She merely regarded him with that composed, attentive expression and waited.
"Miss Bennet," he said. "Good evening."
"Mr. Darcy." She inclined her head.
He took a position beside her to the left. "I trust the evening finds you well."
"Very well, I thank you."
She did not turn fully towards him, nor did she encourage further conversation with a question of her own.
"It is a pleasant gathering."
"Sir William is a most obliging host," she agreed.
A brief silence followed.
Around them, the room continued in its usual course. Conversation, laughter, and the first tentative sounds of the musicians tuning their instruments drifted through the air.
Elizabeth paid no apparent attention to any of it.
"You are acquainted with most of the neighbourhood, I believe," Darcy said at last.
"Most of it," she said. "Meryton is not large."
"And do you find it agreeable?" he asked. "The society here?"
"Very agreeable indeed. I have known most of these people all my life. There is a comfort in such familiarity."
"I daresay there is." Darcy paused, considering his next words. "Though I sometimes wonder whether familiarity makes it easier to be at ease in company. In a room such as this."
Elizabeth turned towards him.
"I am not certain I understand you, Mr. Darcy."
"Only that a room full of strangers presents different demands than a room full of acquaintances," he said carefully.
"The noise, the movement, the number of conversations happening at once.
" He kept his voice entirely neutral. "Some people find it fatiguing.
Others manage it with considerable — skill. "
Elizabeth was silent for a moment.
He watched her consider both the question and the motive behind it.
"I find it perfectly manageable," she said at last.
Her voice remained light. Her eyes did not.
"I always have."
"Of course."
"Mr. Darcy." She turned fully towards him for the first time. It ought to have felt encouraging. It did not. "You are a very observant gentleman."
"I have occasionally been accused of it."
"I am sure the talent serves you well," she said pleasantly. "In the proper company."
It was not a question. Nor was it quite a warning.
It occupied a careful space between the two, delivered with a composure that made her wishes perfectly clear.
She did not desire his company.
"If you will excuse me." Her voice remained pleasant and entirely firm. "I believe my mother requires my attention."
He glanced across the room.
Mrs. Bennet was doing no such thing. Indeed, she was deeply engaged in conversation with Mrs. Lucas and not facing their direction at all.
When he looked back, Elizabeth had already half turned away, lifting her glass with unhurried composure.
He had one opportunity remaining before she excused herself entirely.
"Miss Bennet." He called quietly.
She paused.
"Before the evening advances further, might I prevail upon you to spend a little time with my sister? She has been at Netherfield a fortnight and has enjoyed very little society beyond our own party. I believe she would value the acquaintance."
Elizabeth heaved a sigh.
When she turned back, the wariness remained, but something else had entered her expression. Not warmth, certainly, but a willingness to consider the request.
"I should be very pleased to make Miss Darcy's better acquaintance."
He inclined his head.
"You are very kind."
Crossing the room, he offered Georgiana his arm and quietly explained that Miss Bennet had agreed to sit with her.
When they returned, Elizabeth's expression softened in a manner Darcy had not yet seen directed towards himself.
"Miss Bennet," Georgiana said, curtseying.
"Miss Darcy."
Elizabeth returned the courtesy with a smile.
It was an entirely different smile from any she had bestowed upon him. Genuine, immediate, and directed wholly towards a young lady rather than a gentleman she had no particular wish to encourage.
Georgiana smiled in return. It was a small thing, perhaps, but Darcy had not seen a smile reach her eyes in many months.
Darcy stepped back and allowed them the space the moment required.
He watched as Georgiana began speaking, hesitantly at first, to a woman who listened with her whole attention, who turned towards her completely, and who possessed the rare ability of making another person feel entirely seen.
Within only a few moments, Georgiana appeared more at ease than she had since their arrival in Hertfordshire.
He had come that evening hoping to confirm a theory.
He had not yet obtained the answer he sought.
Yet he had found someone in whose company Georgiana seemed immediately comfortable.
For the present, that was enough.