Chapter 32 Family Secrets
Darcy smiled. “I am thankful that Georgiana did not fix her affections upon the monkey, yet had it afforded her real comfort, I should not have objected.”
Mr. Darcy glanced at the sky and then withdrew his watch. “Miss Elizabeth, the hour advances. It is already half past eight. Georgiana will soon descend to breakfast and find herself alone if I do not leave now.”
“Are you quite certain, sir, that Miss Bingley will not await you at the breakfast table?”
He laughed. “Perfectly certain. Nothing, not even the expectation of my company, would induce her to rise at so early an hour. She does not appear before eleven.”
He regarded her with a look of quiet amusement. “It is, I confess, a fortunate circumstance. We are spared her society for the greater part of the morning. I trust, Miss Elizabeth, that you will not repeat my observation to her.”
“Never, sir. You may rest assured that I am no bearer of tales. I wish you a very good morning.”
He parted, saying, “You shall see me again soon. Georgiana has secured my promise that I will escort her to Longbourn at eleven to pay her respects.”
“We shall receive you with pleasure, sir.”
She inclined her head as he mounted and took his leave.
“Sparky.”
She glanced about in search of the little terrier, who had strayed among the trees.
At her call, she heard him bark in response, and then she heard rustling through the fallen leaves before he emerged, circling her with evident satisfaction, and then falling into step beside her as she began her descent toward Longbourn.
Elizabeth smiled to herself. The impeccably dressed Mr. Darcy had appeared as handsome as ever, and his attentions had not been bestowed lightly.
Her heart stirred at the recollection. He had sought her out, had conversed with her at length, and had remained in her company for more than an hour.
Indeed, he had arrived soon after sunrise and departed only after eight, which meant he had spent nearly two hours alone with her, in conversation, in her favorite retreat.
Her conscience stirred uneasily. It was improper to be alone with a gentleman.
Yet he had conducted himself with perfect propriety, and no one need ever be the wiser.
Thus, she attempted to justify her conduct, though not before acknowledging that her solitary meeting with Mr. Darcy bore an uncomfortable resemblance to Lydia’s clandestine interviews with Wickham.
She pressed her lips together. There was, however, a distinction.
Lydia’s meetings had been deliberate, whereas her own tête à tête with Mr. Darcy had been entirely accidental.
She found herself charmed by his conversation and by the particular expression of amusement that so often animated his eyes. He liked her, and for this day, she would permit herself to treasure the hours spent in his company, without regard for a future she could never have with him.
She hastened down the hill and, upon reaching the house, went directly to her chamber and rang the bell.
She possessed but one other black gown, reserved for church and for visits to the village.
She drew it from its peg and passed her hand over the bombazine.
The cloth was so dark that it seemed to swallow the light; its surface was dull and flat.
After a moment, she replaced it. There was no necessity to change.
The gown she wore was clean, for the ground had been dry, and the hem remained unsoiled.
Her petticoat was another story altogether.
A light knock sounded.
“Enter.”
Alice stepped within and curtsied.
“Alice, pray have my bath water brought up.”
“Yes, miss.”
Elizabeth drew the portable bath from beneath her bed and set out the soap and towels within easy reach. When Alice returned with two pails of heated water and withdrew, Elizabeth placed the screen for privacy.
Later, when she was seated before the fire, fanning her loosened hair to hasten its drying, a light knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
Jane entered, and Elizabeth regarded her with admiration.
“You look exceedingly handsome, Jane, even in that severe black bombazine.”
Jane laughed gleefully. “Mr. Bingley assures me that it only serves to heighten the fairness of my complexion and makes my ‘classical beauty more striking.’”
Elizabeth smiled. “How enviable to possess such a champion. In his eyes, nothing can be amiss.”
Jane’s expression grew thoughtful. “If Mr. Bingley has a failing, it lies in his indulgence of his sister. I cannot help but fear that she may yet seek to place herself between us.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I do not perceive how she might succeed. She concealed his letter, yet even that did not divide you. He has now established himself at Netherfield and makes no secret of his attentions. What power remains to her?”
“Perhaps none, but she does not esteem either of us Bennet sisters. Charles confided that she described you to Mr. Darcy in such a manner that, had he not seen you himself, he might have supposed you near death. I know it sprang from resentment and a wish to diminish you in that gentleman’s regard, nor is she inclined to favor Mr. Bingley’s connection to me. ”
“You must weaken her influence and strengthen your own by your conduct. Do you continue to offer him encouragement?”
“I do. I endeavor to meet his eye when he addresses me and to return his smile. I am careful not to lower my gaze or look aside as I once did with former admirers.”
Elizabeth gave her a knowing look. “Mr. Bingley has already purchased a house with you in mind. Pray, give him more encouragement, not less.” Elizabeth paused to consider.
“I know you cannot wear anything pretty or alluring, but with the smallest attentions you may signal that you are pleased with him and do not find him disagreeable.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “Little attentions? Lizzy, I never…”
“I do not mean that you should drape yourself about him as Caroline does Mr. Darcy.” A spark of indignation rose within her breast at the liberties she had witnessed Miss Bingley take.
“I speak only of the lightest civility. A gentle brush of fingers when he greets you and takes your hand. When he offers his arm, perhaps the faintest pressure at first contact. Nothing improper or bold. Only those innocent touches that show you are at ease in his company, that you like to be near him, and would not object to greater intimacy in time.”
Jane considered her sister’s advice in silence. When at last she looked up, there was no smile upon her face.
“What is it, dear? You appear distressed.”
“Not distressed, Lizzy,” she replied softly, “but uncomfortable. What you propose feels very improper and wanton. Yet I know it is the course I ought to take, lest I risk losing him to another,” Jane confessed.
“I do not know how to accomplish such things, and worse still, I do not know whether I possess the courage to attempt them.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Then prepare yourself, dear sister, for a very long courtship. If such a gentleman came day after day to pay his addresses to me, one who had even sold a farm in order to purchase a house near my own, I assure you I would do everything within the bounds of propriety to encourage him.”
Jane laughed. “Lizzy, you look precisely like a sermonizing great aunt.”
“Do I?”
“You do indeed. I shall follow your counsel, and when I remember the expression you wore just now, so solemn and instructive, it will make me laugh and lend me courage.”
Elizabeth set aside her fan and drew near enough to embrace her sister with warmth. “It requires only a little fortitude.”
Later, seated together in the drawing room, Elizabeth cast a sidelong glance at Jane. “Do you not feel that we resemble two crows in this dreadful black? It steals all the light from the room.”
She ran her fingers across the dull fabric. Jane did the same, though with a faint smile. “At least mine is cut more advantageously. There was a greater variety in London than what was available here. Papa has promised that, once six months have passed, we may introduce lavender, gray, and white.”
“A mercy,” Elizabeth murmured. “I begin to fear I shall forget what color looks like.”
Jane brightened. “I shall wear white to Mr. Bingley’s ball.”
Elizabeth’s expression matched her sister’s. “So shall I. Ought we to write to Aunt Maddie and request something suitable? Her modiste understands precisely how to dress a lady to advantage.”
Jane rose at once. “I will write to her now and beg the favor. She still holds our funds and may deduct the expense from there.”
While Jane sat at the escritoire, Elizabeth resumed the task of replacing a collar upon one of her father's shirts. The quiet scratch of the pen was interrupted by the sound of a carriage rolling to a halt before the house.
Elizabeth slipped the shirt into her sewing basket, and Jane folded her letter and tucked it neatly into the drawer. She glanced at her fingers for stray ink. Finding none, she crossed to the sofa opposite Elizabeth’s, and together they waited.
Mrs. Hill entered and announced their guests. “Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, and Miss Darcy.”
Elizabeth’s heart stuttered at the sight of him. Before she could master her composure, Georgiana darted from behind her brother and flew into Elizabeth’s arms.
Elizabeth laughed as she staggered back a step, striving to keep her balance. When Georgiana released her, she held the young girl at arm’s length and studied her with laughter in her eyes. “My dear, you have grown at least two inches since we were last together. You have quite surpassed me.”
Georgiana’s eyes shone. “Indeed, I have grown three full inches, Lizzy.” She looked her friend over with affectionate concern. “I am so glad to see you well. Miss Bingley said you were quite stricken down from the care you provided to your father.”