Chapter 4
Elizabeth felt her face reddening every time she and Darcy caught each other's eye, and it wasn't beyond her aunt's notice, either.
"Lizzy, this Mr. Darcy is very intrigued by you," she murmured in a low voice, being discreet. Elizabeth smiled weakly, attempting to dissuade herself as well as her aunt.
"How can you say such a thing? A master of all this would never," she answered, now too embarrassed to look back at him. "I am no beauty, not like Jane or Lydia."
Mrs. Gardiner gave her a slight look. "Lizzy, you have your own distinct beauty, you know. And a charm that radiates from you, as well—perhaps that is what draws him in."
"Oh, Aunt, surely you are mistaken."
Soon it was time to go through, and Darcy escorted Mrs. Gardiner in, as was proper, leaving Mr. Gardiner to take Elizabeth on his arm.
"Lizzy, dear, are you well?" he asked as they went through. She smiled weakly, but he merely chuckled and shook his head. "I know—a house this grand. It is overwhelming to be given such attention. But I surmise there can be but one true reason for it..."
He trailed off but let his eyes wander to their host, embarrassing Elizabeth even more. She stammered but didn't speak—how could she? Why were her aunt and uncle entertaining such ridiculous ideas as that? That a man like Darcy could have an interest in her?
It was silly!
And yet, his eyes were on her again, and she blushed when she peered over at him just to be caught looking. Or just to catch him looking, whichever it was—she wasn't sure what embarrassed her more, her unrelenting interest in him, or his seemingly equal interest in her.
All she knew was that she needed to not get her hopes up.
She saw what happened to her sister, after all: Mr. Bingley certainly had eyes for Jane, everyone in the whole county could see it.
But did he propose? Nay, he all but abandoned her, departing Hertfordshire and closing up Netherfield without a single word of warning.
It was all so very sudden, so very cruel.
Her heart felt heavy at the mere memory, and this forced her back to reality—
She and her sister both had nothing to offer any man except their love, and men of status and wealth—gentlemen like Mr. Bingley and Darcy—wanted more than that. Good fortunes, good connections. They didn't want penniless gentleman's daughters like the Bennet girls.
This sobered her, and she resolved to stop staring at him, but admittedly, it was rather hard to do when she was placed directly across from him at the table.
With just the four of them, they were all seated so intimately, and she felt the closeness of him, sensing the piercing intensity of his gaze on her, even while he spoke in polite niceties to both her aunt and uncle.
Her relatives tried to pull her into the conversation many times, but Elizabeth wouldn't be brought in.
She kept her eyes down and her answers to a conversational minimum.
She could tell her aunt was curious with her behavior, but Elizabeth didn't care.
She was to merely survive the dinner, and then they could be on their way back to Lambton.
Then they would depart Derbyshire in a day or two, leaving Darcy and all of Elizabeth's silly dreams of Pemberley behind them.
This was her focus, until Darcy's next words broke her concentration:
"Miss Bennet, I believe I have some friends coming to Pemberley tomorrow who will be familiar to you."
Her eyes came up, being addressed so directly by him—and she blushed to find his sturdy, penetrative gaze upon her, making heat flush through her cheeks.
"Friends?" she asked hesitantly, genuinely curious of whom he might mean.
He nodded, a slight smile forming on his lip, making her heart pound. Goodness, his smile was so handsome, even one as subtle as that! She almost couldn't look away—
"Indeed, the party arriving tomorrow is one with whom you are acquainted, I believe," he said, his words causing her to furrow her brow, "It is Mr. Charles Bingley, and his sisters, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, along with Mr. Hurst. I believe they stayed in your home county last autumn, did they not? "
His words paralyzed her for a moment. She opened her mouth, but no words escaped, and she closed it once more, before her gracious aunt swooped in and saved her.
"Why, yes, Lizzy knows Mr. Bingley," she said with a smile in her voice. Elizabeth couldn't look at her—she was still staring in disbelief at Darcy.
He knew Mr. Bingley? And Mr. Bingley was coming here?
Finally, she found her voice.
"Mr. Bingley?" she repeated dumbly, shaking her head slightly and adding, "I mean, of course. Yes, I am acquainted with him. He stayed at Netherfield, an estate bordering my father's. Why, they are coming here, you say? Tomorrow?"
Darcy smiled a little more broadly at her, making her heart turn over. She smiled back. He nodded and said, "Indeed. I thought you would want to renew your acquaintance, if you and your relatives are not traveling away tomorrow, that is."
Mr. Gardiner answered before Elizabeth could think, "Oh no, we are in no rush to leave Derbyshire, are we dear?"
He addressed his wife, who happily agreed, mentioning Lambton as her childhood home.
The conversation went that way for a moment, giving Elizabeth a chance to fully comprehend what was to happen on the morrow.
She was to be reunited with Mr. Bingley once more, and she didn't know if she liked or disliked this idea at first, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized what an opportunity this might present.
Perhaps she could persuade Mr. Bingley to reopen Netherfield and go back to her sister.
Elizabeth's heart lightened at the very thought, and she was soon beaming at Darcy, whose face reddened for a moment before he cleared his throat, a slow, slight smile appearing on his face.
"You seem quite pleased," he stated. She nodded.
"I am happy to see Mr. Bingley and his party tomorrow. Thank you for telling us, for we might have left Derbyshire and missed them."
Darcy nodded, still smiling that subtle smile of his. Elizabeth pondered him—he wasn't the most expressive man, clearly, but what he did show in his expressions was a quiet eagerness to please her, as if he were very intent on giving her what she might be satisfied with.
Maybe he was interested in her, after all.
"There is another member of the party, whom you do not know, Miss Bennet," he said further, catching her attention.
"Oh?" she asked, unsure of whom he could mean.
"But I would very much like you to be introduced to her,” he said, and for a sad moment Elizabeth thought he might already have a wife, or even a betrothed, some future mistress of Pemberley. She swallowed as he went on, waiting with bated breath as he said, “It is my sister of whom I speak."
He looked at her in some earnest, and she felt herself sigh with relief, but then she reddened at her own thoughts. Who was she to be so possessive of a man whom she scarcely even knew?
"Your sister?" she repeated quietly, suddenly comprehending it—something told her a man like Darcy didn't introduce his sister to just anybody.
He nodded. "Her name is Georgiana. She's sixteen, and she's very shy. I think she might benefit from an acquaintance with a lady like yourself, Miss Bennet."
She blushed and looked down.
"I would be honored to meet her, Mr. Darcy."
She meant it, and as she cast her eyes back up quickly to meet his, she hoped he could tell.