Chapter Twelve
Elizabeth was already seated at a table toward the back of the room when Darcy arrived at the supper that evening; her uncle would not hear of her standing in the receiving line on her injured ankle. There were four seats open at her table, so Darcy moved that way with Richard and Georgiana chatting merrily as they trailed behind him. As they made their way through the crowded ballroom, Darcy recognized the gentleman who had just led a pretty, fair-haired young woman to Elizabeth’s table. It was his old friend, George Knightley.
Their fathers had been the dearest of friends since their days at Eton; Darcy had grown up as close with the Knightley brothers as with his Fitzwilliam cousins. He had heard that George was lately married to the sister of his younger brother John’s wife – indeed, he would have happily attended their wedding had he not been determined to woo Anne back in Sanditon.
And then Anne herself appeared, ignoring some admonition of her mother’s as she scanned the ballroom for a place to sit for the first course. She saw Darcy moving toward Elizabeth’s table and seized Miss Lovelace’s hand, dragging her companion along as she hastened to beat Darcy to his destination. As she reached Elizabeth's table, Anne turned and smiled at Darcy over her shoulder, and he found himself returning her smile. More than wishing to sit with Sir Sidney, Anne did not want Darcy to sit with Elizabeth; the ruse was working.
This small but reassuring scrap of hope carried Darcy through the first course of supper. He sat with his sister and cousin, who conversed with Miss Esther Denham. She had called at Sandpiper Cottage that afternoon while Darcy had been enjoying his visit with Sir Edward Gardiner. It was clear that Georgiana was trying to like the woman, but with little success.
Miss Denham was not unpleasant, like the preening Miss Bingley, but neither was she pleasant. She lacked warmth and humor, and seemed almost to view her activity in society as transactional. Darcy supposed much of society did operate in such a way, without such forthright pragmatism, and so he could not fault the lady for saying aloud what most people would think anyhow. Indeed, he saw her company as an exercise for Georgiana, who needed to experience moving amongst a varied mixture of people. Not all of society would be like her new friend Elizabeth, and he was proud of his sister for her endeavors to converse with the cold but eager young woman.
Richard was not put off by Miss Denham’s odd behavior, and seemed content to act as intermediary in coaxing Georgiana to participate in their discussion about sea-bathing, so Darcy made free to converse with Sir Edward Gardiner once again. They had spoken of his beloved late wife that afternoon; Sir Edward had painted such a picture of the lady’s character that Darcy could easily see her influence on Elizabeth, whose other relations he recalled finding rather silly when he had visited Hertfordshire.
“I never saw her so happy as when we came here to Sanditon – it has been the same for my Lizzy, too. It is a relief that you do not mean to take her away from me, for she keeps the magic of this place alive for me.” Sir Edward sipped sadly at his wine. “I still find myself doing things in such a way as would please her, taking her opinion into consideration in my plans…. Lizzy understands and does not think me a pitiful old fool.”
“Nor do I, sir.” Darcy gave the man an encouraging smile. He admired Sir Edward’s duality, for the man was an utter romantic, yet also a shrewd businessman; the hotel and indeed all of Sanditon had benefited from the vision of such a man. “I suppose you must be thinking often of her as you plan the summertime events you mentioned this afternoon.”
“Of course! Though it is true that many come here for the healthful benefits, there is no reason Sanditon cannot become as popular as Bath, offering as much entertainment as remedy.”
Sit Edward was content to extol in the many events planned for the coming summer. Some were annual occasions he had enjoyed with his late wife the previous year, while others were new diversions – and in these Darcy thought he could sense a little of Elizabeth’s influence.
When the second course was called, Darcy was again thwarted in his attempt to sit with Elizabeth so that they could enact their charade of courtship. He was sure she meant to seek him out, but she was slow on her injured foot, and despite his sense of urgency to approach her, the ballroom was a crush to navigate. He got near enough that he might have called out to her, when Sir Anthony came to her aid and seated her at a table beside himself. There were no other seats at that table, but Darcy selected the one nearest to it, so that he might hasten to her side for the third course.
“You are fuming at being kept from your lady,” Richard observes as he sat down beside his cousin.
“I have but a fortnight for our ruse to achieve the desired outcome; it would be a pity to see the entire evening wasted.”
Richard rolled his eyes. “Perhaps I am as easily duped as Anne, for I had thought you seemed genuinely keen for Miss Bennet’s company.”
“Of course he is,” Georgiana interjected.
“Of course I am,” Darcy agreed. To his relief, he was spared Richard’s impudence when Knightley and his lady came to sit at their table.
He presented his bride as Emma Knightley, née Woodhouse. The newlyweds had arrived that afternoon from Surrey on their wedding trip.
“I have never been to the sea before, what fun we shall have!” The new Mrs. Knightley gazed at her husband with adoration before taking a seat beside Georgiana.
Happily, nobody else joined their table, and the five companions dined amidst amiable conversation. Richard had been involved in many of Darcy and Knightley’s youthful antics, which he described to the ladies with exaggeration they could easily forgive, when their audience was so delighted.
Darcy thought his friend had chosen well in his bride, for beyond her elegance and her evident infatuation, she was artless and engaging. Her manners reminded him of Elizabeth, though she was the superior of the two. Mrs. Knightley had not Elizabeth’s talent for humor nor the sparkle of wit in her eye, but she was a promising new acquaintance for his sister.
Mrs. Knightley herself was as eager to find a friend as Georgiana. “We are to remain for a month complete, and so I hope I shall see a great deal of you. My home, Highbury, has little to offer by way of society, though the village did experience a short burst of interesting diversions. This is my first journey away from home, and I am ready to be fascinated by everything. Ah, but how silly I must sound!”
“Not at all,” Georgiana assured her.
As the two young ladies began to chat amongst themselves, Knightley fixed a curious gaze on Darcy. “I recall you and your sister are fond of summering by the sea. You have chosen well this year; Sanditon, I hear, seeks to rival Bath or Brighton.”
Richard snorted with laughter. “Lord, you will never guess what brings Darcy here – you will shriek when I tell you.”
Darcy bit back a groan. “You recall I have been betrothed to my cousin Anne for nearly two years now.”
Knightley did not conceal his sentiments; they were written on his countenance. “Is there any particular reason the engagement has been so prolonged?”
“The family was in mourning for my late uncle, the former Earl of Matlock, when the betrothal was made. Since then, I have spent some time in Scotland, and Anne’s health is occasionally…. And then after what happened at Pemberley….”
“I heard – I am terribly sorry. If there is any way I can assist….”
“I have it in hand for now, though it will be a lengthy process to rebuild.” Darcy let out a heavy sigh, grateful for his friend’s commiseration.
“And our cousin has found herself at the end of her patience,” Richard said. “Not long after the fire, she severed the engagement.”
Knightley’s eyes went wide. “She did? Or was it her mother?”
“My aunt has beseeched me to win Anne back, which is in accordance with my own wishes. It is an unfortunate thing….”
Before Darcy could find a tactful way to describe his predicament, Richard made a gesture with his head to indicate their cousin at the next table over. where Anne had leaned so close to Sir Sidney that her bosom rested in the crook of his arm – she might have toppled over had she not reached backward and clung to Miss Lovelace’s arm as she craned her neck up to whisper in Sir Sidney’s ear. Her gaze flicked over to Darcy and she smirked at catching him watching her.
“That is her over there, in the orange gown.”
Knightley barked out a surprised laugh. “Is everyone in this town out of their senses? We met that fellow when we arrived at the hotel and he spoke about an upcoming event he is hosting as if it were some mad bacchanal. And your aunt is permitting her to make such a display with this fellow? And you, Darcy – you wish to win her back?”
Mrs. Knightley had taken an interest in the gentlemen’s conversation, and Georgiana’s face made it plain to her new friend that it was one worth hearing. Darcy felt his face burn with the heat of his mortification.
“What is this about Sir Sidney? We met him at the hotel before – he reminded us of a certain person in Highbury….”
Knightley shook his head with a teasing smile for his bride. “Emma….”
Georgiana giggled. “Is there another such person in existence?”
“I do not know him well enough to be certain, nor should I wish to, but my first impression of Sir Sidney put me in mind of the son of my dearest friend’s husband, who treated another of my friends abominably – she came to her senses and made a happy escape, but she nearly married the coxcomb!”
“Darcy is hoping Anne will have a similar epiphany,” Richard drawled.
“So, what do you intend to do about it, Darcy?” Knightley sipped his wine with his usual look of intelligent bemusement.
Darcy knew his friend might have sound advice to offer. He was several years older, and his disposition was a happy blend of Darcy’s own diligence as master of a large estate, Bingley’s ease in conversation and society, and Richard’s uncanny talent for teasing a person’s weakness. Darcy bristled, fairly certain he already knew what his friend might say.
But before Darcy could indicate he wished to keep the whole ordeal private, Richard began to boast. “Darcy has acted on my advice for once!”
“Your inference,” Darcy muttered.
Georgiana was only a little acquainted with Knightley, but seemed more amenable to his bride than she had been to Miss Denham. Before Darcy could prevent it, she told Mrs. Knightley, “Richard told everyone that my brother is courting my friend Miss Bennet. Anne has been seething ever since!”
Mrs. Knightley lit up with glee at the scheme. “Oh! That explains all the evil looks Miss de Bourgh was giving Miss Bennet during the first course – we sat with them. She and her mousy friend Miss Penny whatever were quite rude to Miss Bennet, but I thought she was a most amusing creature! She is very pretty, too. I could sooner imagine you courting her than Miss de Bourgh, Mr. Darcy.”
“She is so much nicer,” Georgiana whispered to her new compatriot.
Knightley furrowed his brows, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And this is meant to send Miss de Bourgh into a jealous panic, and right back into your loving and forgiving arms, Darcy?”
“Something like that,” Richard agreed with a grin.
“It is my hope that her jealousy will cause her to examine her own heart and find that her fascination with Sir Sidney is a fleeting folly and has been the result of his devious flattery and artifice.” Darcy glanced once more in Anne’s direction, seeing her as he had imagined her when reading her letters and writing his own. “My regard for her is enduring, though duller than his debauchery, I suppose. But it shall outlast the intransigence of his shallow allure; she will see that.”
Knightley’s expression remained warm, but judgement seeped into his voice. “I see. And what will become of Miss Bennet after you have abandoned her and reconciled with your newly enlightened fiancée?”
“I am not trifling with Eliz– Miss Bennet. Far from it – she thinks the entire thing is excessively diverting.” Darcy smiled as these words passed his lips. He had read that turn of phrase more than once in Anne’s letters, but since hearing Elizabeth utter the same once or twice, it seemed now to belong entirely to her.
“She is in on the scheme! Ah, no wonder she bore Miss de Bourgh’s incivility with such good humor,” Mrs. Knightley cried. “But what a delightful scheme. I must mention in Miss Bourgh’s hearing that I think you and Miss Bennet a remarkably handsome couple, and vastly well-suited!”
“Emma!” Knightley’s tone was a little stern, but he smiled and gazed at his wife in adoration.
She laughed and raised her hands before her. “I am not meddling – I promised I would give up matchmaking forever – but I only spoke the truth!”
Georgiana gave a gasp of excitement. “Matchmaking?” She and Mrs. Knightley began to whisper effusively between themselves.
Knightley looked between Darcy and Richard with wry amusement. “It is fortunate I have arrived to keep the two of you sensible together.”
When the third course was called, it was all Darcy could do not to yank Sir Anthony out of his chair and claim that coveted place by Elizabeth’s side. Fortunately, Mrs. Knightley was ready to come to his aid. She hastily removed one of her pearl earrings and tossed it onto the floor a few feet from Sir Anthony, before lamenting its loss and gave every appearance of a damsel in distress.
Sir Anthony fell perfectly into the trap laid by the flaxen-haired beauty and moved to retrieve the item for her at once. Darcy slid into the seat at Elizabeth’s side and joined her in observing the performance.
“That was ever so kind,” Mrs. Knightley said, making a subtle gesture to her husband to secure the seats at Darcy’s new table. He understood her, and took a vacant seat at Darcy’s other side.
“I do not believe we have been introduced, fair lady.” Sir Anthony bowed and smiled.
“Which makes your kindness all the more gallant, sir.” Mrs. Knightley brushed at one of her curls with her left hand, her wedding ring glinting in the candlelight. “I must thank you again and join my husband.” She bobbed into a curtsey and hurried to sit beside her husband.
“Refusing an introduction is rather rude, Emma,” Knightley whispered to his wife.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Why should I want the acquaintance of somebody who vexes Miss Bennet?”
Darcy thoroughly approved of his friend’s bride.
There were two more empty seats at their table and Sir Anthony surveyed them with interest. He began to move that way when the Bevans, who had sat there before and remained chatting nearby with Lady Denham, returned to the table. Sir Anthony looked around at the ballroom with mortification.
At the next table over, Anne’s companion Miss Lovelace looked down at the empty seat at her side. She reached over and removed the little dog from Anne’s lap and placed the animal on the empty seat. Sir Anthony huffed and skulked away in search of companions who could bear his company.
When they were all seated, Mrs. Bevan observed, “Your table seems to be quite popular tonight, Miss Bennet, and so we could not resist. What fascinates the whole room is certainly good enough for us.”
Mrs. Knightley grinned across the table at Elizabeth and winked. “Mr. Darcy told us something especially fascinating about you, Miss Bennet. I heartily approve!”
A most becoming pink blush graced Elizabeth’s cheeks. “Did he?”
Mrs. Bevan looked up with alacrity. “How fascinating? If it is especially intriguing, it may find its way into my next novel.”
To her credit, Mrs. Knightley looked between her husband, Darcy, and Elizabeth. “May I?”
Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, her eyes so lit with mirth that, despite his better judgement, he could not have dreamt of silencing her. “I confess I should rather like to hear Mrs. Bevan’s opinion of the matter to which I suspect you refer.”
“We rely upon your discretion, of course,” Mrs. Knightley said to Mrs. Bevan. “Mr. Darcy wishes to win back a certain lady who has forsaken him for another, by means of pretending to court Miss Bennet. Her jealous passion shall turn to… well, just passion, I suppose. Is that not romantic? And as dear friend of his sister’s, Miss Bennet had consented to aid his cause.”
Mrs. Bevan had been smiling at Mrs. Knightley with eager interest, but her countenance altered. “Oh. Your courtship is a ruse, then. Well, that is unexpected – but interesting indeed.”
Elizabeth let out a little sigh, as if disappointed by Mrs. Bevan’s reaction. “Would it not make for interesting fiction?”
Mrs. Bevan leaned toward Elizabeth to whisper; Darcy heard her say, “I do not know if I would call that comedy or tragedy, my dear.”
Elizabeth gave her a tight smile and whispered back, “If that folly is not to your liking, I shall tell you a story tomorrow at tea of another of my ghastly romances – this one involves scandalous letters.”
Mrs. Bevan smiled appreciatively, and then both women looked up; Darcy just had enough time to turn his face away and pretend he had not heard them. He privately resolved he would call on Elizabeth tomorrow during tea, in the hope that he might hear her story for himself.
“I should love to hear more about your work, Mrs. Bevan” Mrs. Knightley said. “I have read all of your novels, of course; but how ever do you get the ideas? And how do you find the time?”
The Knightleys began to speak with the Bevans with a noticeable determination to leave Darcy and Elizabeth to their own devices, and Darcy was not sorry for it. “I sat with your uncle for the first course. I do not know if he mentioned my visit earlier – I enjoy his company almost as much as I do yours.”
“He will be relieved to hear it. He did mention your visit. He fears he spoke too much of Sanditon, and did not wish to give the impression that he was angling for an investment.”
“In fact, I would be interested in investing; at least purchasing a small home here for summer use. Georgiana has grown very fond of… Sanditon.”
“I am glad. I should be pleased to see more of… Georgiana.”
Darcy stared at Elizabeth as a slow smile played across her face. If only Anne could gaze at him in such a way. “I was touched by your uncle’s affection for his late wife, who must have been a remarkable woman. My father was much the same, after my mother died.”
Elizabeth sighed. “It is romantic, and yet rather sad. Having had such a great love, there is little chance of him ever finding happiness with another, and he has so many years ahead of him still.”
“You must be glad your father has found his happiness.”
“He grieved my mother’s loss, but he had loved a woman before he met my mother, when they were both far too young to marry. He knew that she had been widowed, and sought her out when his mourning was over. I suppose it is an argument in favor of second attachments, though my stepsister Marianne is firmly set against them.”
“Is this why you have resolved to be content as you are? You mentioned once that you had loved and lost,” Darcy prompted her.
“I suppose, if only because it taught me my own foolishness. I formed an attachment after my mother died, and for a time I found solace in it, but then it ended. He is married now, and I wish him well. There is little more to say.”
Darcy sipped sadly at his wine. “So it would seem that we have both fallen in love and been wounded since our first meeting in Hertfordshire.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together for a moment before saying, “I was wounded at our first meeting at that assembly. Oh, forgive me for teasing you about it again, but it is objectively one of the most amusing things that has ever happened to me.”
“And here I was wishing those words unspoken. Our first meeting might have gone very differently.”
“If you had not been so out of sorts from worrying over your sister, would have you taken your friend’s advice and asked me to dance? Ah, but of course you would have, if only to spite Miss Bingley.”
“Which is precisely why you would have accepted,” he chided her. “Would you have formed a favorable first impression of me?”
“I would have been astonished to find you so sensible,” Elizabeth said with a wicked smile.
“Why would that have astonished you?”
“Because no gentleman, in my experience, is handsome, rich, and clever. I have only ever found such specimens in Mrs. Bevan’s novels, for she is a woman of considerable imagination.”
Darcy sat up a little straighter; she thought him handsome. “And how would you have known so quickly that I was sensible?”
“Why, from your asking me to dance.” She batted her eyelashes at him with feigned innocence, and Darcy chuckled.
“Shall you tease me forever?”
“If you had remained longer in Meryton, I am sure I would have found many ways to tease you.”
“No indeed! I would have invited Georgiana to join me at Netherfield, knowing you would adore her, and then you would have been subjected to enough of my company to improve your opinion of me.”
“It would hardly have been fair for you to gain the company of such a darling relation, when Longbourn was, at the time, forced to bear a very tedious one. My cousin – your aunt’s parson – came to visit us not long after the assembly. Have you ever happened to meet him, when visiting Miss de Bourgh at Rosings Park?”
Darcy had not actually visited Rosings since before his betrothal to Anne. His last visit had been while Georgiana was at Ramsgate, just before that fateful debacle with Wickham. “I vaguely recall my aunt having a new parson that I did not find especially agreeable – though he agreed with my aunt at every opportunity. She lectured him for an entire dinner on what sort of bride he ought to seek out – in fact, I believe she suggested the daughters of an estate that was entailed upon him.”
Elizabeth started down at her dessert plate. “Well, it is not entailed upon him anymore.”
“So, it was your family – he came to visit you at my aunt’s behest?” Darcy chuckled. “I suppose if I had still been in the area, we might have orchestrated the very same sort of arrangement we have arrived at now, in order to deter him from pursuing you.”
When Elizabeth looked up, there were tears glistening in her eyes. Darcy panicked. Had he taken his jest too far? Was she now reconsidering their ruse? He offered her a handkerchief with a look of penitent concern.
“Forgive me, I did not realize that I would become so agitated, speaking of it after so long. My cousin – he – I….” Elizabeth let out another weary sigh, her posture slumping a little. “He did attempt to woo me, in his own repellent way. I refused his offer of marriage and my mother – she… it was my fault that she had an apoplectic fit.”
As Elizabeth dabbed her eyes, Darcy subtly drew his chair nearer to hers, making free to rest his hand atop hers. She curled her fingertips around his. “I feel so silly.”
“Your tender sentiments do you credit, Elizabeth. And I am in no position to think ill of you for such feelings. When my father died, I was inconsolable for months, and even seven years later it still pains me to think of what despair I felt then. From time to time, I think of what he might have thought of some event in the papers, or some jape of Richard’s, or Georgiana’s progress at her instrument – and I can hear his voice as clear as a bell in my mind. It is a small way of keeping him with me, even though, at times, knowing what he might say is more a torment than a comfort.”
Darcy reached out and wiped a tear that had slid down to the edge of her jawline. “Had I stayed longer in Hertfordshire, I might have told you as much when offering my condolences.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed in sharply, then smiled at him. “I would have been very grateful, as I am now. Hearing it then, I might have never….” Her voice trailed away as her face grew pink, and Darcy’s hand twitched as if wishing to touch her once more.
Realization struck him in the chest like a physical blow. If Darcy had stayed any longer at Netherfield, he would have undoubtedly fallen in love with Elizabeth. But then we would not have been free to quell his aunt’s blackmail by engaging himself to Anne. He would never have fallen in love with Anne, would never have seen the side of herself she shared only with him. And, worse yet, Elizabeth would have been at Pemberley when it burned. She might have been a great consolation to him after that tragedy of watching his ancestral home burn, but she would have been placed in considerable peril.
Elizabeth’s countenance turned playful once more. “Mr. Darcy, what are you thinking of? Your expression has changed five times or more in the last minute!”
“It occurred to me that if I had courted you to repel Collins, just as I court you now to win back Anne, we may have wed; your uncle told me your father would have given me the business for our little scheme. You may have been at Pemberley when it burned.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth blushed again and briefly looked away. After fidgeting with her fork for a moment, she asked, “How did it happen?”
“Nobody knows. None of the servants will admit to any mishaps, nor anything out of the ordinary taking place that night. The local magistrate believed it to be an accident, that something must have gone wrong in the kitchen and my servants were too afraid to own up to having caused the blaze. Richard suspects foul play and has a few of his men making discrete inquiries in London.”
Elizabeth leaned forward with interest. “But who would do such a horrid thing?”
“That same blackguard who was denied my sister’s dowry,” Darcy said softly. “His pursuit of her was out of avarice, yes, but also to revenge himself on me.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Impossible! I cannot imagine you capable of doing anything to this fellow that could be ghastly enough to warrant such cruel retaliation!”
“I was born a Darcy, and he was born the son of my late father’s steward. That was enough to make me a rival for life, in his estimation. He was my father’s godson, given a gentleman’s education and promised a valuable living. When my father died, he declined taking orders and was compensated with a sum of three thousand pounds, in addition to the thousand that my father had bequeathed him. He gambled this fortune away within a year, debauching himself in ways I cannot tell you. And when his pockets were empty, he returned to ask me for the living.”
“But you could not allow such a wastrel to lead a congregation,” Elizabeth cried emphatically.
“I would sooner see Sir Sidney made a bishop,” Darcy drawled.
Elizabeth dabbed at her eyes with his handkerchief once again. “And after what he did to poor Georgie, you suspect he destroyed your home. You have both suffered a vast deal, and I am sorry for it. I hope your cousin’s men are able to locate this reprobate, if indeed he is to blame.”
“I find myself hoping that they learn it was not him. I could more easily bear it being some negligence of a servant than to think a man I have known since childhood, even played with as a boy, could willfully do something so hateful.”
As he had done earlier, Elizabeth now laid a hand on his. “Tell me about Pemberley. You looked so happy last time you spoke of it.”
Darcy described the splendor of his home, his favorite rooms, the little details that he most admired, the generations of family history and tradition, and how he would see to it that everything was rebuilt just as it ought to be. When he finished, he felt as if he had been speaking for above an hour, but Elizabeth did not appear bored of his monologue.
“You speak so fondly of Derbyshire; you must be miserable away from your home.”
“What I miss no longer exists, and it will be many years before Pemberley is rebuilt. I shall always think Derbyshire the most superior part of England, but I am almost equally partial to the seaside. In truth, I could be content anywhere that my sister is happy.”
“She is very lucky to have such a brother – and she knows it,” Elizabeth said with a smile.
“She is also fortunate to have made such a charming new friend, as she has made everybody aware,” Darcy quipped in return. “She will be loath to leave Sanditon when the time comes.”
“Perhaps she might stay a while longer? When you and Miss de Bourgh marry and return to Rosings Park – well, I cannot imagine Georgiana would wish to join you, and certainly as newlyweds you will wish to….”
“Right. Of course.” Now it was Darcy who blushed. “Georgiana would surely accept an invitation from her new friend.”
“In that case, I will have our guest room made ready for her when the time comes.”
That time would come in a mere fortnight, Darcy realized. At least, that was what he hoped. He would reconcile with Anne, and it would be for the best if they put distance between themselves and Sir Sidney Parker.
He turned his gaze from Elizabeth to look wistfully around the ballroom, only to discover the space was nearly empty. There were fewer than a dozen guests remaining, and they were all on their way out the door. The Knightleys were amongst this queue; Mrs. Knightley turned around and waved at them, giving an exaggerated shrug at having left the table without taking leave of Darcy and Elizabeth. How had they not noticed?
Richard and Georgiana sat at the table by the door, chatting with Mr. Gardiner and drinking wine, and apparently observing Darcy and Elizabeth. She laughed nervously. “My goodness, the last hour has passed more quickly than I realized. I was so engrossed in our conversation – our friends must think me terribly rude!”
“Our friends, who did not bid us good evening?”
Darcy chuckled as he stood and helped Elizabeth to her feet. He offered her his arm and moved slowly as she held onto him to steady her limp. He sensed the scrutinizing stare of his cousin and sister, and even Elizabeth’s uncle, as they traversed the room together; he felt abashed, almost guilty, though he had done nothing worse than lose all sense of his surroundings, and time itself, while conversing with Elizabeth.