CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Darcy had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or three other gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river, and had left him only upon learning that the ladies of the family intended a visit to Georgiana that morning.
When he entered the saloon, he was alarmed to see Miss Elizabeth looking so pale.
She met his eyes only briefly. In an attempt to draw her gaze, he endeavoured the warmest greeting he could but received only the eye of suspicion from Caroline.
Had something transpired in his absence?
he wondered. Had one of the Bingley sisters been uncivil?
Their disdain of the Bennets was no secret to him.
Upon his appearance, Georgiana exerted herself to talk much more.
Anxious to make Miss Elizabeth at ease and eager for the two to become better acquainted, he forwarded as much as possible every attempt at conversation on either side.
Miss Elizabeth was friendly enough in her response but continued to avoid his gaze.
Caroline, however, grew increasingly attentive and took the first opportunity to say with sneering civility, “Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to your family.”
His colour rose. Caroline would not dare mention Wickham’s name before him. She knew nothing of Georgiana’s mediated elopement or she would not have dared approach any mention of that corps. To no creature had he revealed his sister’s past except to Miss Elizabeth, whom he earnestly looked upon.
Miss Elizabeth appeared distressed at first, but answered in a tolerably detached tone, “You are correct, Miss Bingley, in that the militia is no longer in Meryton.”
Her collected behaviour quieted his emotion.
Miss Bingley appeared more vexed than ever and Georgiana returned to her customary reticence.
If Miss Elizabeth experienced a return of her previous enmity, she might have answered in a manner to anguish him.
She had the wit to accomplish it, but, as he suspected, she had too much decency to betray his confidence or desire to injure his sister, an innocent party.
Nonetheless, he could not help but notice her continued agitation. Even her hand shook.
“How do you like the fruit?” he asked point-blank when he could no longer stay his impatience to understand what had put her in such a fragile state. Perhaps the food did not agree with her.
“The fruit is fine,” she murmured.
He had no wish to call further attention upon her if she were ill, and to his great reluctance, he allowed the visit to come to an end.
He had no wish to prolong her misery if she were unwell, but her attitude toward him alone was changed from yesterday.
He saw the women to their carriage and had the pleasure of handing Miss Elizabeth into the vehicle, but his touch seemed to alarm her, so much so that she tripped upon the steps.
He caught her. The feel of her gave him a rush and caused his heart to pound.
He held her a second longer than necessary to secure her footing.
Her face turned red. A little too hastily, she retreated into the carriage. He had never seen her so flustered.
Still concerned for her welfare and perplexed by her deportment, he was in no mood for Caroline’s criticisms when he returned to the saloon.
“Her dress I found extremely ordinary. Passé, if you will,” Caroline was saying to Georgiana, “and drab. It did nothing to compliment her features. But that is nothing to her odd behaviour. I really do not know what to make of it. I would not go so far as to call it boorish, but her disposition is more wanting than our last encounter. There is an aspect to her bearing that is unrefined and almost mannish. Did you discern the same, Georgiana?”
His sister did not join in the indictment. He knew his recommendation was enough to ensure Miss Elizabeth’s favour. His judgment could not err, and he had spoken in such terms as to leave Georgiana without the power of finding Miss Elizabeth otherwise than lovely and amiable.
Upon seeing him, Caroline cried, "How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy. I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again."
His jaw tightened and he replied coolly, “I perceived no alteration than her being rather tanned, no miraculous consequence of travelling in the summer.”
"For my own part," she rejoined, "I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her.
Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome.
Her nose wants character—there is nothing marked in its lines.
Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I could never see anything extraordinary in them.
They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether there is a self-sufficiency without fashion, which is intolerable. "
Too tempted to say something he would later regret, he remained silent.
But Caroline seemed determine to make him speak.
"I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty, and I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, 'She a beauty!
I should as soon call her mother a wit.' But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time. "
Unable to contain himself, he replied, “Yes, but that was only when I first saw her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance."
He took his leave before she could vex him further. Caroline did not have a naturally cheerful temperament and this sometimes lent itself to mean-spiritedness.
He hoped Miss Elizabeth had not taken ill and wanted nothing more than to ride to the inn to inquire after her. Later, when he had a moment alone with Georgiana as she sat down to practice at her pianoforte, he attempted to glean what light his sister might shed on Miss Elizabeth’s disposition.
“She looked well,” Georgiana answered him. “I noticed nothing amiss, though she coughed greatly upon a grape, I think, shortly before you joined us.”
Seeing some relief come across her brother, she placed a bashful hand upon his. He gripped it warmly and let out a breath.
“She seems to possess a constitution of fortitude,” Georgiana offered.
“Yes, among many other admirable qualities. Perfection she is not, but there is in her person all that I desire, all that I could ever need and want. Every fiber of my being declares that there is none better suited to me than her. Even when she aggravates me, my feelings do not waiver. Indeed, they have only grown through every tribulation.”
“Then it must be love,” she murmured, her eyes wide at the notion that strife could ever enhance affection.
“This encounter, this second chance with her, has been an unexpected blessing, and I will not squander it.”
He planted a rare playful kiss upon her hand before departing.
He wanted to be with Miss Elizabeth. Now.
Alone. But he was not to see her till dinner to-morrow.
He contemplated riding over to the inn, but he did not want to force his hand too soon or suffocate her with his attentions.
Clearly she was not at ease in his company.
She wanted time and space, and he patience.
But there was perhaps one way to see her before the morrow, he considered as he recalled Abby’s letter. His pulse quickened. Did he dare?
*****
“I have not Jane’s charity and, thus, I will remark that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst are not nearly as agreeable as their brother. Or Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner said.
Hearing his name made Lizzy weak.
“My dear, you appear shaken. Are you well?”
Lizzy mustered as much cheer as she could to mask the mortification she felt inside. “I think I partook too much of the fruit. Perhaps I should not have, had Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst been more sociable.”
Hoping to avoid further mention of that name, Lizzy inquired into the history of the friends they were to have dinner with that evening.
This conversation occupied some time till Mr. Gardiner was returned and regaled them of the fine waters and sizable fish the men had caught.
Lizzy, on the pretense of wanting a light nap, went upstairs to her room, where the full weight of her discovery presented itself.
She hobbled to her bed and fell upon it, staring at the ceiling.
Had a stone wall fallen upon her, she would not have felt more crushed.
Her instructor and Mr. Darcy one and the same!
It could not be!
Grasping at any sliver of doubt, she jumped out of bed and went into her portmanteau where she kept the handkerchief.
She was not the sentimental sort and felt the linen to be more safe in her custody.
Pulling it out, she saw with dismay that it was, with certainty, the absolute identical handkerchief to the one held by Miss Darcy.
Handkerchief in hand, Lizzy sank into a chair.
Oh, why had he given the article to her in the first place?