Chapter 7 #4
Elizabeth’s thoughts were occupied primarily by Mr Darcy’s puzzling behaviour and their conversation.
In truth, there were times she was certain he was purposely arguing with her only to reveal her flaws, and other times she was certain he enjoyed her company.
No, not certain—with Mr Darcy, one could never be certain of anything.
And there was also Lady Sinclair and… Why did I think of Lady Sinclair?
She should not be a subject of interest for me.
After supper, the gentlemen retired to the library and their brandy.
The room was warm, and there was such a din of voices that Elizabeth left the ballroom, convinced that no one would notice her absence.
She walked along the hall until she reached the music room.
She entered the room, closed the door, then touched the piano briefly, remembering the evening she and Miss Darcy played together.
Poor Georgiana was so frightened to sing in front of her relatives.
How could she possibly be Mr Darcy’s sister? Was he ever frightened—of anything?
Elizabeth could not say how long she stayed in the music room.
She knew she should return before her aunt and Jane looked for her.
She opened the door carefully as she could hear voices from the hall; two ladies were talking.
The music room was dark, but a few candles tentatively lightened the hall.
With no little surprise, Elizabeth recognised one of the women as Lady Sinclair.
Elizabeth was about to open the door and greet them when the subject of their conversation stopped her.
“What other reason could Darcy have to dance with her? He never dances; he barely danced with me, which I would find offensive from any man except Darcy.”
“Other men would have danced with you, Eve.”
“True, my dear.” Lady Sinclair laughed. “Oh well, it will be interesting to follow. He could not have any serious designs on her; she is a country nobody. Perhaps that is precisely what is attractive about her—nobody will expect him to have a serious attachment.”
“They all seem to be under Lord Matlock’s protection. I seriously doubt Mr Darcy would have any improper thoughts regarding his uncle’s protégée. He is well known as a gentleman of honour. Am I wrong?”
“You are not wrong. But nobody can control one’s thoughts. As for Darcy, he has few choices, regardless. I imagine he will shortly marry Anne de Bourgh. I am tired of hearing about their never-ending engagement, and I have hopes that marriage will change his perspective.” Lady Sinclair laughed.
“Heaven forbid someone could control your thoughts, Eve. And speaking of marriage—yours surely changed your perspective. How is your husband, by the way?”
“He is on a hunting party; I expect him to return to London in a week.”
“But he will not remain in town long, I imagine, as I do not expect you will be tempted to leave London in this weather.”
“To both your questions the answer is no.” Lady Sinclair laughed again. “Come—let us return to the ballroom. This wine makes me particularly tempted to dance again.”
The ladies left, and for some time Elizabeth did not move.
Her chest felt crushed by an enormous burden, and she could not breathe.
She leaned against the wall, gathering her strength and struggling for air, then hurried along the hall to the entrance.
Under a servant’s surprised glance, she opened the main door and stepped outside.
The chill wind whipped across her face, and the snow on her cheeks mixed with warm tears of anger and helpless disappointment.
She could only hope she misunderstood the words spinning in her mind.
Were they truly speaking about her—and in such preposterous terms?
Why would they do that? Mr Darcy was engaged to Anne de Bourgh?
Was she not his cousin? And if he were engaged, why should she care?
He never spoke or behaved improperly, nor did he ever mention he was engaged.
But why would he? After all, it was his private business.
She could not care less if he were engaged!
She gathered herself and returned to the ballroom.
Her aunt and Jane were in the midst of Lord Matlock’s family.
Mrs Gardiner inquired about her and Elizabeth forced a smile as she confessed she was not feeling well.
She admitted to a piercing headache and pretended her eyes could not bear the light because of the pain.
Lady Selina invited her to retire to one of the guest rooms, but Mrs Gardiner declared she would take Elizabeth home to rest. Immediately, Miss Bennet supported her idea, and shortly all three ladies were ready to depart despite Lady Selina and Lady Brightmore’s insistence.
They declined any attempt to call for one of the gentlemen to keep them company.
Mrs Gardiner had her coachman waiting and decidedly said they would be perfectly safe.
They did not wish to raise unnecessary concerns nor ruin the pleasure of the ball for the other guests.
So, with little recourse, Lady Selina accepted her friends’ decision, taking a warm farewell of them and asking to see them all the next day. Mrs Gardiner promised they would come for tea, and Lady Selina was content with the prospect.
∞∞∞
Hours passed, and Elizabeth could find no rest. Although she threw herself in bed as soon as they were home and assured her aunt and sister that she was feeling better, it only became worse.
She recalled every word, every gesture, every face, and every glance from the ball.
Were other people also thinking so ill of her?
Morning came, but it brought little peace for Elizabeth. She did not leave her bed nor join the family for breakfast. Mrs Gardiner encouraged her to sleep as much as she wanted, but she declared she would send for a doctor, as she was worried about Elizabeth’s indisposition.
To avoid such a drastic measure, Elizabeth finally dressed, declaring she wanted to eat a little and rest later.
During the noon hour, Mrs Gardiner remembered they promised to have tea with Lady Selina. Jane seemed pleased with the idea, and Mrs Gardiner declared she would take the children, too, so they could play with Lady Selina’s boys.
Elizabeth asked to be forgiven but expressed her trust that she would be much better the next day. With some arguments and no little worry, the ladies finally left.
For Elizabeth, the empty house and the silence surrounding her were a blessing.
She hurried to her room and lay on the bed, closing her eyes and remembering once more all the details of the previous night.
She became angrier at each passing moment, not so much against a certain lady but against herself for allowing the events to bother her so.
The lady had danced with Mr Darcy too; how dare she make such insinuations after a dance?
And Mr Darcy himself—how could he be friends with such a disrespectful woman?
And what kind of friends were they, after all?
She was surprised by the sound of the doorbell and hurried to the parlour. A servant announced the visitor, and to her utter amazement, Mr Darcy walked into the room.
He bowed to her politely, but she could scarcely greet him properly, so preoccupied was she to discover the reason for his presence.
He inquired after her health, confessing he was at Lady Selina’s with his sister when Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet arrived. He had been surprised not to see her and was worried to hear she was not feeling well, especially after their sudden departure from the ball.
She assured him she was well and thanked him for his concern.
Then she asked about Georgiana and was told that she remained at Lady Selina’s.
He had come alone, and Elizabeth’s consternation grew.
As she watched him attempt to start a conversation, it was obvious to Elizabeth that he had slept ill as well.
His countenance was pale, his eyes showed dark circles, and no smile lit his face.
After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, still standing, and finally spoke.
“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”