Chapter 1.1 #6
Indeed, he considered himself a fortunate man, but he knew his greatest fortune had been in his choice of wife.
He believed that a man never had been more blessed than he had in his family: his astonishing wife and their wonderful children.
From the first blush of married life ten years earlier, Edward Gardiner’s love, respect and admiration for Marianne Gardiner only grew stronger and deeper with each passing year.
He knew he had every reason to be proud of his wife—and so he was.
Enjoying a glass of port, he was anticipating her descending the staircase — together with Elizabeth—to attend the theatre.
Truth be told, he was tired and would have preferred to stay home and enjoy the benefit of a quiet evening.
However, complying with one of his wife’s wishes was more important to him than his own comfort, and considering that his favourite niece was equally fond of the theatre left him little choice.
So there he was, ready to accompany them.
When their carriage reached its destination, Elizabeth noticed, as did her aunt, that they had been wrong in assuming not many people would attend the Little Theatre that evening.
The season was ending, and many of the fashionable families were leaving town for the comfort and gentle air of their country estates.
However, to their utter surprise, a crowd was gathered in front of the theatre.
It was still early, and many people seemed inclined to linger outside the entrance.
Animated conversations were carried on in low voices as propriety demanded.
A parade of the latest fashions and jewels—worn with grace by young ladies attempting to draw the attention of eligible gentlemen—made Elizabeth’s lips twist in a hidden smile.
Her mother was not so different after all from the ladies of the ton—at least in this regard.
Mr and Mrs Gardiner exchanged greetings with acquaintances on their way inside the theatre while Elizabeth could feel a few gentlemen’s eyes scrutinizing her with what her mother would call admiration; yet, she knew it was mere curiosity at an unknown face, and she smiled again.
Their party had almost reached the entrance when Elizabeth’s attention was drawn by a lady’s laughter—open, full of joy, and unrestricted.
She could not help turning her head, and her eyes fell upon a young lady whose stunning beauty made Elizabeth stop for a moment to admire her.
She was taller than the other ladies, and her hair—light brown—was masterfully arranged.
Equally impressive was the evident costliness of her elegant gown; she also wore a necklace and earrings set with diamonds and emeralds, which increased the brightness of her green eyes.
She looked around and then down the street, clearly waiting for someone and being inattentive to her companions.
Her entire demeanour demonstrated self-confidence, and the condescension with which the others were treating her indicated to Elizabeth her noble breeding.
Her companions called her “Lady Cassandra.”
For a moment, the lady caught Elizabeth’s eyes, and her inquiring look was not friendly.
She did not seem pleased to find Elizabeth staring at her nor did she find it necessary to hide her displeasure.
Yet, instead of being offended by that look, Elizabeth smiled at her with unconcealed admiration; in the next moment, the lady’s eyes widened in surprise, and then she returned the smile as Elizabeth passed by her and entered the theatre.
Elizabeth and the Gardiners took their places in a small box on the second level, some distance from the stage.
In a short time, the arena grew crowded.
Elizabeth noticed the lady from the entrance hall alone in a large box—the third from the stage—and it was obvious that her presence drew numerous eyes and prompted various comments.
Elizabeth heard people nearby talking loudly enough about “Lady Cassandra” to be a subject of great interest; she could easily understand the lady’s cold and annoyed gaze earlier.
No doubt, she had been the subject of whispers and stares from the moment she arrived.
Elizabeth felt suddenly inclined to sympathise with Lady Cassandra without even knowing her.
The bells rang for the last time; the play was ready to start, and the theatre patrons were taking their seats.
The theatre seemed filled to capacity. While Mrs Gardiner was relating to her what she knew of the actors, Elizabeth, with a smile, cast her eyes around the beautiful theatre once more and abruptly caught her breath in a quiet gasp.
On Lady Cassandra’s left, closely engaged in a private conversation with her and oblivious to everything around him, sat Mr Darcy.
A disquieting chill travelled along her spine and down her arms to her fingers, which became as cold as ice.
She struggled to turn her eyes away, but, mesmerised, they remained fixed on the couple until the performance began.
Startled by music from the orchestra pit, her head turned abruptly, and her absent gaze followed the action on stage as she was engulfed by new and disconcerting emotions she could not understand.
Elizabeth struggled not to return her attention to that box, so she failed to notice the gentleman’s surprised eyes staring back at her or the expression on his face the moment he recognised her.