Chapter 2.16 #4
Miss Bingley turned white as the blood drained from her face; for a moment, Darcy wondered whether she was able to breathe and briefly considered that she might need help, but he did nothing, barely able to contain his mirth.
Lord Sinclair, who normally should have been offended by the severe criticism of his wife, laughed heartily and emptied his glass of brandy.
Angrily red, Mrs Hurst and Lady Sinclair looked furiously at Lord Matlock, but their anger turned wild when they noticed Eliza Bennet, smiling from the doorway.
In the midst of that dreadful moment, Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley rose and invited the ladies to their seats.
Jane took her place near Mr Bingley, and at the other side of her, Mrs Gardiner sat to the left of Lady Selina.
At the opposite side of the table, Elizabeth was almost forced by Miss Darcy to take the seat between her and her brother.
The footmen brought the next course, and the food was the object of everyone’s attention for some time. The gentlemen, warmed by brandy and wine, opened multiple and various conversations, and soon the din of voices made it difficult to understand each other.
“You seem very quiet,” Darcy addressed Elizabeth in a low voice. “Are you well?”
“Yes, thank you. I was just thinking… It seemed you had an entertaining debate while we were gone,” she whispered, a smile on her lips.
“‘Very entertaining’ is a description that does not do it justice.” He smiled. “May I dare presume that you heard a part of it?”
“I did. I have to say, sir, that for someone as reserved as yourself, who is always in perfect control, you are doing a poor job of concealing your feelings. If you continue in this way, our secret will last until tomorrow at the latest.” She cast a quick glance at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Please forgive me. I have no excuse for not keeping my word but—”
“Excuses are not needed.” She smiled teasingly. “I was just wondering—perhaps you should write my father after all. In some circumstances, a week can be a very long time.”
He stared at her, and she turned her head to meet his eyes; for a heartbeat, they looked only at each other, oblivious to their surroundings. His expression spoke to her more eloquently than words, and the gleam in her eyes was all the reply she need offer.
“Miss Bennet seems exceptionally happy tonight,” Darcy said a few moments later.
“Yes, she is; she just shared some extraordinary news with us. But I presume you already know, do you not, Mr Darcy?”
He hesitated a moment. “Yes, I do; Bingley and I spoke earlier, and I expected he would do something when he returned from riding.”
“I see… Did you… Did he propose because you told him to do so?” Her voice was suddenly hesitant and expressionless. He stared at her intently.
“I hope you are still mocking me. You cannot imagine that Bingley proposed to Miss Bennet for reasons other than genuine affection; he has waited long enough.”
“Forgive me; I did not mean to imply otherwise… It is just that…”
“There is no need to apologise. You have every reason to fear my interference, whether for good or ill. It is also true that I spoke to him and encouraged him a little.”
“Does Mr Bingley do anything without your approval?”
“Dear God, I surely hope he does,” he replied seriously, and she covered her mouth with her napkin to cover her laughter.
“He just… As my uncle said earlier, patience is a virtue only when it does not crush passion and daring,” he whispered.
“Bingley has had much patience and wisdom recently, but too little daring. In that, I confess I encouraged him.”
“Yes, but you said…” She paused a moment and looked around to see whether others might hear her then leaned to whisper back.
“You said that passion and daring need a strong character and a superior mind to keep them under good regulation. Is that the difference between crushing the passion and keeping it under good regulation? If it is, pray explain it to me because I confess I do not see one, sir.”
“It is an extraordinary difference, Miss Bennet. But I cannot explain it to you, as I am afraid it would be difficult to put into words. However, I dare to promise that you will understand it for yourself quite soon.”
His words were difficult to understand indeed, as she could barely hear him, and his low, whispered voice increased her anxiety, unsuccessfully hidden behind a tentative smile. She was not certain of his meaning, but what her mind did not comprehend, her heart and her body sensed and yearned for.
Her sister Jane was happy now; Mr Bingley had finally proposed to her, and Elizabeth anticipated that they would be the most wonderful, kind, and generous couple.
It was now time to allow herself to feel her own happiness.
She startled when he leaned and whispered to her again. “As for your riding lessons, Miss Bennet—I would suggest we start them either at Longbourn or at Pemberley.”
She fought to keep a calm voice when she replied. “I shall take your suggestions to heart, sir. What would you consider to be the perfect time?”
“Pemberley,” he said gently but decidedly, and she could not contradict him.