Chapter 10
WHERE ELIZABETH IS MORTIFIED BY HER FAMILY.
Dinner that night was an uncomfortable affair for Elizabeth with Mrs Bennet and Kitty supplying a freshet of neighbourhood gossip, Mary interjecting words of moral turpitude, and Mr Bennet presiding over them all with a detached sort of amusement until he had enough of their foolishness and abandoned his table, his family, and his guests to sequester himself in his library.
There he would dwell for the rest of the night while the Netherfield gentlemen remained with the ladies.
Mortified beyond measure by her father’s rudeness and her mother’s constant, nonsensical chatter, Elizabeth hastened to the window seat on the far side of the parlour to fetch her embroidery.
She had planned to retrieve her fine work and claim the only chair beside the fire. Her sister Mary claimed it instead.
She watched as Bingley, Jane, and Kitty settled themselves upon one sofa and her mother and Darcy upon the other.
The prospect of joining them—of being in such proximity to Darcy while her mother went on about Jane’s wedding clothes and Elizabeth’s own eligibility—was horrifying.
Elizabeth found herself returning to the only other available option: the window seat.
She did not possess the energy to steer her mother’s conversation to more suitable topics for the rest of the evening, nor did she feel equal to sitting beside Darcy on the same small couch.
The tea things were brought in, coffee poured, and dessert served but Elizabeth declined all.
As could be expected, the conversation on the other side of the room was a lively one, and quite one-sided.
Despite her increasing mortification, Elizabeth could not bring herself to check her mother’s enthusiasm any more than she could bear to look upon the figure of the one person in the room who most commanded her interest. Trusting Darcy must be sitting stiffly upon the couch staring into his teacup while her mother rambled inappropriately about stockings and petticoats, Elizabeth was startled to glimpse a pair of black riding boots slowly making their way towards her from across the room.
As Darcy stood gazing out of the window at the sodden park, Elizabeth doubled her efforts and attempted to concentrate on her task, but the wretchedness of the evening combined with the awkwardness such a history as theirs afforded felt suffocating.
She knew she ought to acknowledge him and introduce some subject or other, but she hardly knew where to begin.
At present, the only topic that came to mind was their clandestine encounter in the back hall of the assembly rooms and the way her traitorous body had reacted to his touch.
It was a subject most unfit for a drawing room—or any room for that matter—and Elizabeth could not prevent the heated blush she felt rise in her cheeks.
Several minutes passed in uncomfortable silence before she finally worked up the nerve to steal a glance at him from beneath her lashes.
She watched, transfixed as Darcy picked up a discarded book and settled himself beside her.
There was an abruptness to his movements she could not account for, but soon attributed it to the irritation he must feel after passing such a tedious evening with her family.
He opened the book, scanned several pages, and cleared his throat.
When he did not speak, Elizabeth returned her attention to her embroidery.
As she worked, she could not help but feel ashamed.
By avoiding the seat beside Darcy on the sofa earlier and essentially ignoring him now, she was slighting him, much as her father had at dinner.
She was showing him in no uncertain terms her manners were not only as poor as her father’s, but worse.
Elizabeth’s throat felt conspicuously tight.
To have him think of her in any way that was less than complimentary pained her exceedingly.
Had Darcy treated her with such disregard at Pemberley she knew precisely what her opinion of him would have been.
She marvelled at the courage he had shown then; at the way he had recovered from his shock when he first saw her, and the way his long, eager strides closed the distance between them as he crossed the lawn to welcome her.
He had walked with her, talked with her, and attended her with sincere interest. Elizabeth coloured deeply.
Is this how she was to repay his kindness to her then?
Is this how she was to repay his solicitation and hospitality—with muteness and avoidance?
She could not, would not allow Darcy to think any worse of her than he surely did. Strengthened by her resolve, Elizabeth turned towards him, and said with as much assertion as she could muster, “Do you mean to frighten me, Mr Darcy, by coming in all this state to observe my paltry attempts?”
Though he appeared startled, the hint of a smile soon tugged at the corners of his mouth.
He closed his book and cast it aside. “Not at all. If I am not mistaken, Miss Elizabeth, I believe we have already had this conversation once before. As you know, it is neither my intent, nor my design to frighten you, but quite the opposite.” He indicated her fine work with his hand.
“Your attempts in any case are far from paltry. No one can fault you. In fact, I see much before me to admire.”
His tone was warm, his gaze intense, and both, when combined with his nearness, were enough to cause Elizabeth’s breath to catch.
It was by no means what she had expected him to say.
The expression in Darcy’s eyes at that moment burned as brightly as any flame and it unnerved her. His look was entirely familiar.
Her traitorous heart quickened. Only by expending a tremendous amount of effort did Elizabeth manage to keep her wits about her.
Before she could think of an appropriate response to Darcy’s comment, he said, “I hope the preparations for your sister’s wedding have not kept you from enjoying your customary rambles through the countryside.
When I was first in Hertfordshire you favoured a path that I have since come to understand spans a lovely stretch of woods upon your father’s estate. ”
Here he paused, bowed his head, and readjusted the cuffs of his shirt sleeves. “I also recall that you rose quite early to walk out in the mornings while you stayed with Mrs Collins in Kent.”
Elizabeth’s blush intensified at his reference to her time there, for she could not help but feel all the shame of her abominable behaviour towards him then.
She lowered her eyes, acutely conscious of the long overdue apology she owed him for the unjust accusations she had made against his character so many months ago.
With Mr Bingley, her mother, and sisters just across the room it was neither the ideal time, nor place to broach such a sensitive and deeply personal topic.
“I am afraid I have had no opportunity of late to indulge many of my usual pursuits. There is much to be done for Jane’s wedding and little time, it seems, in which to accomplish it all. ”
He leaned forward and regarded her in earnest. “I am very sorry to hear it. I know how much you enjoy being out of doors. Perhaps once your sister is married to my friend you will be at leisure to resume your daily exercise, that is if the weather is not too disagreeable?”
Elizabeth could not be certain, but it almost sounded to her as though Darcy was issuing an invitation rather than merely posing a simple question for the sake of polite conversation.
Such fanciful thoughts, she knew, were dangerous.
For the preservation of her already frayed equanimity, Elizabeth quickly changed the subject.
“Are you enjoying your stay with Mr Bingley?” she asked as composedly as possible while she coaxed her needle through the linen in her hand.
To her relief, both her stitches and her hand continued steady and precise.
“I am, though my visit thus far has been rather less productive than I had initially hoped.”
His ambiguous remark was followed by silence. Against her better judgment, Elizabeth raised her eyes to his face.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy murmured, boldly drawing closer to her, “there is so much I wish to—”
His voice faltered as Mrs Bennet’s shrill laughter overwhelmed the room. He saw Elizabeth startle and shook his head, irritated with himself for his eagerness. Now was hardly the time to declare himself—not with Bingley and her mother and sisters within earshot.
A glance in their direction, however, revealed that none of them appeared to be paying them any mind, not even Mrs Bennet.
This prompted a sigh of relief from Darcy, who proceeded to mentally chastise himself for his impatience.
If he did not slow down, he would surely scare Elizabeth off again before he managed to improve her opinion of him.
He straightened, cleared his throat, and began anew with a safer topic. “Since my arrival, Bingley has been much engaged with preparations for his wedding to your sister. As a result, I have been left to my own devices. It is nothing I did not expect, of course, especially under the circumstances.”
To his relief, the tense set to Elizabeth’s shoulders relaxed. “I am sorry to hear that you are so often without the companionship of your friend, especially since you are here in Hertfordshire to support him.”
“It is not so bad as that. Though I had hoped to pass my days in a very different manner, I am not entirely alone. Miss Bingley, as you might imagine, has been a most attentive hostess in her brother’s absence, and the Hursts are due to arrive by week’s end.”