Chapter 16 #2
For the short period before they were called into the dining room, Darcy watched as the countess engaged Rebecca in conversation.
His aunt did not overlook Elizabeth, per se, but her interest was obviously on the lady her eldest son had said he wanted to marry.
Elizabeth did not appear to mind. She held Rebecca’s hand and said the occasional word when it was appropriate or helpful to her friend.
And she met his gaze several times. He was certain he saw humour in her beautiful eyes, which tonight seemed uncommonly brilliant, thanks to the gold hue of her gown.
Was she sharing her amusement with him, expecting he understood what she found diverting—that was, his aunt’s obvious attempts to learn as much about Rebecca as possible in the shortest amount of time?
He smiled at her in return—not broadly, but enough for her to see and, he hoped, understand he was glad she was there.
During dinner, he sat beside Julia; Elizabeth was next to Fitzwilliam and too far away for him to join their conversation.
Nevertheless, he was glad for the opportunity to speak to his aunt.
They spoke of her other children—who were at school or in the country—and Georgiana.
Part way through the meal, in a voice quiet enough not to be overheard, she asked about Bramwell.
“His interest in my daughter has been a surprise,” she said. “Not that I am shocked that such a fine gentleman would notice my girl’s worth.”
Naturally, Darcy agreed with her sentiment and sought to reassure her. “He was immediately taken with her when we met at Mr and Mrs Ware’s ball.”
Glancing at their companions, she said, “Your uncle informed me that most of what one hears about him—gossip, you understand—is exaggerated, that he is no different from many other young single men of our circle.”
Understanding her purpose in raising the subject, he was quick to agree once again. “I would not be friends with him if I thought he was less than honourable, and I would have warned him off. He knows how his life will change when he marries. You need have no concern.”
She gave him a grateful smile, and they spoke of other matters.
Only later, after the separation of the sexes, did he have an opportunity to speak to Elizabeth.
The earl had insisted that the gentlemen remain in the dining room when the countess led the ladies away, and as soon as they entered the drawing room, Bramwell went to his mother and Rebecca.
Elizabeth, who had been sitting with them, stood, ceding her place on the settee to him.
She stopped by Lord Halsley, and as they were exchanging a few words about the evening, Darcy joined them.
“Ah, Darcy,” the earl said. “Elizabeth and I were just agreeing that the soup was particularly delicious.”
“We have not got further with our review of the menu,” she said. “Your aunt informed Rebecca and me that the cook has only recently moved to England from France.”
“I believe that is so,” he said. “Fitzwilliam has told me he worries he will grow stout if he indulges too often in meals at home.”
Lord Halsley laughed. “I would think Romsley should be more concerned. Men of our age must pay attention to such things. Take advantage of being young while you can.” He looked from one to the other and excused himself, saying he remembered something he meant to ask his sister-in-law.
“I am glad you enjoyed dinner,” Darcy said.
Elizabeth, whose attention had turned to Rebecca momentarily, said, “I did. Indeed, the whole evening has been satisfying.”
“I am glad,” he said, and when he realised he had repeated himself, almost rolled his eyes. “Has my aunt been…?” He was not sure how to complete the question and instead, subtly gestured to where the countess was sitting and chatting with Rebecca and Bramwell.
“She has been very kind. I doubt there will be anything she does not know about Rebecca by the time she and her parents leave tonight.” She chuckled.
He nodded and wondered if she would say anything about how the countess had acted towards her.
But she is unlikely to complain, if she had cause to, even if I ask.
Not that he supposed Lady Romsley had been less than courteous.
Unlike Georgiana. With that thought in mind, he said, “I feel I ought to apologise for my sister’s reserved manner towards you.
She is young, not-not used to new people. ”
Elizabeth regarded him for a moment before nodding once. He understood why she did not otherwise respond; his excuse had been weak and his voice had lacked conviction.
Suppressing a sigh that had nothing to do with Elizabeth, he admitted, “There is more, but I do not believe this is the best time to discuss it. She is having a difficult time after an unfortunate occurrence last summer.”
“Mr Darcy, you owe me no explanation or apology,” she said before he could go on. “I am not so egotistical that I expect everyone to like me.”
“Who does not like you?” he said, the words and tone—demanding and insulted on her behalf—as much a surprise to him as they apparently were to her. “F-forgive me,” he stammered, his cheeks burning. “What I meant to say was that I am sure she will like you very much once she knows you better.”
She offered him a smile and, after standing together in awkward silence for a moment, Fitzwilliam came to talk to them about his brother’s proposed scheme to visit His Majesty’s Royal Palace and Fortress of the Tower of London in the near future.