Chapter 9 #2
“Darcy does not even dance when he goes to St. James’s, or Almack’s. I have not seen it for myself, as I have never been invited there, but I know from trustworthy sources,” Bingley added lightly, still trying to support his friend.
The two famous names almost made Mrs. Bennet faint with excitement. “You have been to St. James’s Palace? And to a ball at Almack’s? This is wonderful! So wonderful!”
The lady’s enthusiasm was becoming dangerously loud, and Elizabeth’s uneasiness grew when Mr. Bennet stepped in.
“Mr. Darcy, since you dislike balls as much as I do, may I dare assume that you enjoy books instead? Perhaps I could interest you in a drink, in the library?”
Darcy’s face brightened instantly. It was not only the relief of escaping Mrs. Bennet’s overwhelming interest, but also the pleasure of a private encounter with Elizabeth’s father, which was long overdue.
“Your assumption is very accurate, sir. I am very fond of books, and a drink in the library would be much appreciated.”
Mr. Bingley was also invited to join the gentlemen but, slightly embarrassed, he chose to continue his conversation with the ladies, an arrangement that pleased everyone.
For the next half an hour, Elizabeth was in the company of her mother, sister and their visitor, but her thoughts were all in the library, wondering about the conversation between her father and Mr. Darcy.
Her concern and pain at feeling ignored and disregarded by Darcy, as well as her doubts about his character had proven to be ill-grounded.
He had been uncivil, even rude, but he might have had a reason for his poor disposition.
And he was considerate enough to put his pride aside, to apologise to people with a situation in life considerably below his own and to try to make amends to the family of his former employee.
At that moment, she did recognise the man that had stirred the feeling of deep love and admiration inside her—the Master of Pemberley.
“Miss Lizzy, the master has asked for you in the library,” Hill whispered to her. Surprised and nervous, she exited, completely ignored by the other three who were deeply engaged in conversation.
She found her father and Darcy sitting face to face, each holding a drink. At her entrance, Darcy stood up. She chose a chair next to her father.
“My dear, I called for you just to tell you that Mr. Darcy and I have discussed the time you spent at Pemberley. I thanked him for his generous payment and I confessed how helpful it has been to our family. I am only telling you this, so you know that everything is clarified between us.”
“I am glad to hear that,” she said, looking from one to the other.
“And I have told Mr. Bennet that the payment was unworthy of repaying your help to our family,” Darcy added. She only nodded, uneasy at the praise and with his gaze, that looked different from that short distance, and even more disturbing than before, especially in the presence of her father.
“We have also been discussing books,” Mr. Bennet said.
“I understand you have inherited this passion from your father, Miss Bennet,” Darcy said with the warm friendliness that she remembered from the past.
“Indeed. I inherited it from my father and he helped me to cultivate it,” she admitted.
“And we have been discussing business affairs, too. Mr. Darcy was kind enough to offer to look through my books to see if he had any advice to remedy the disaster I have caused in the last five and twenty years. I hope he is as skilful in business as you told me.”
Elizabeth’s astonishment left her lost for words.
“You should know, Mr. Bennet, that your daughter is very skilful in business too. She succeeded in increasing the efficiency of Pemberley’s household while decreasing the expenses.”
Mr. Bennet shrugged. “I have no clue where she inherited that trait from, but surely not from me or from her mother,” he admitted, causing Darcy to laugh. Elizabeth realised she had never heard him laugh out loud before.
It was another hour before the gentlemen finally left, leaving the ladies of Longbourn in a state of pure joy, each for a different reason, each expressing it in a different way, each with hopes that they did not dare voice yet.
The sudden bond between Darcy and her father delighted Elizabeth, as it was another proof of the worthy characters of both men.
Although completely different, they quickly found interests to share and, as much as she tried to remain reasonable, and avoid any expectations, her heart told her their effort was for her.
Later that day, she received another letter from Miss Darcy, informing her with much excitement that one of her brother’s best friends had just rented a property apparently close to Meryton, the village where Elizabeth lived too. Elizabeth laughed tearfully, holding the letter to her chest.
“Dearest Georgiana, it would have been of great help if I had received this news yesterday.”
But she knew she could not fight, nor argue with fate. And she did not even want to.
***
In his room at Netherfield, the moment he returned from Longbourn, after a night of turmoil, following four long months of distress, worry, struggles, inner battles, grief and longing, Darcy became certain of one thing—more certain that he had ever been of anything in his life.
The joy, the bliss, the exhilaration, the fire in his blood, the stir of his senses that he experienced the moment he saw Elizabeth again, was stronger than any other feelings in his life.
And more importantly, he realised he did not wish to lose it again, to grieve and to long again for something—for someone—before he had tried with all his power to gain it forever.
Neither his duty nor his honour would be satisfied with any other Mrs. Darcy than the woman who had already conquered his mind and his heart.
If only he could make her accept his feelings and return them in the way he wished for—not just as a simple friend—his life would be complete.