Chapter 2
So that is why he did not call today, was the first thought that came to Elizabeth’s mind.
Less than a moment later, she felt her cheeks burning in mortification at such an outrageous statement.
Surely, she had no right to question Mr Darcy’s reasons for doing whatever he pleased, whenever he pleased, and certainly, with whomever he pleased.
Struggling to keep her eyes focused straight ahead and to pay attention to the performance met with little success as did an attempt to regain her composure.
An uncomfortable sensation of being watched made her restless, and she wondered who else might be in that box.
Did someone in the party recognise her? As far as Mr Darcy was concerned, if he noticed her presence, she fully expected he would not be pleased to socialise with her and her relatives from Cheapside in the presence of his titled friends.
This, she understood, was unlike their meeting in the park—but what of the others in the party.
Was Miss Darcy in the box, too—or the colonel?
Had they noticed her? Would they see her during the intermission?
She startled a couple of times under the impression she heard his voice, though she knew it was not possible.
Mr Darcy, a man who was highly proper at all times, certainly never would speak to be heard from such a distance.
Then again, she could be wrong. Mr Darcy’s recent behaviour seemed to be completely different from what she formerly knew of him.
Based on their previous encounters, she never would have believed him capable of being as…
animated…as he was that evening and certainly not in a crowded room under the scrutiny of countless curious eyes.
“Neither of us perform to strangers.”
The recollection of his words during an evening at Rosings brought back other unpleasant and embarrassing memories.
She now spent countless minutes reflecting on their past interactions; an inner smile unconsciously lifted the corner of her lips as she recalled their sparkling verbal duels.
How could she have been so thoroughly blind as to misinterpret every word, stare, smile and approach—she, who prided herself on her talent for observation and discernment?
He had always been so serious, stern and haughty with others but not with her—at least not all the time.
Mr Darcy did smile at her—and quite often.
Moreover, he singled her out more than once during those weeks in Hertfordshire; he danced with her at the Netherfield Ball even though she had previously refused him in the presence of Sir William Lucas.
Then, there had been all their talks at Netherfield about accomplished ladies and the “improvement of one’s mind by extensive reading” while she was reading, about his faults and hers, his reference to his sister’s height in comparison with hers, and his plea that she not “sketch his character at this time” after their harsh talk during the dance.
Everything seemed to her now to be cast in an utterly different light.
Of course, her friend Charlotte Lucas had been perceptive enough to notice the truth almost immediately and, most likely, so had Miss Bingley, which explained the lady’s rude dismissal of her.
Why am I thinking of all this now? No good will come of these belated revelations; indeed, these thoughts are not helping me.
I must be grateful for Mr Darcy’s civility, politeness, and apparent acceptance of a future acquaintance between us.
Who knows? Perhaps I will have the chance to see Mr Bingley again and he might —
An increase in the music’s tempo startled Elizabeth and brought her back to the reality of her surroundings. The seeming irrationality of her speculations caused her to censure herself again instantly. She must not entertain any certain hopes of Mr Bingley for Jane or anything for herself.
She steeled herself to think of nothing but the exquisite performance on the stage and her long-awaited tour of the Lake country.
If only they could leave sooner…Had Mr Gardiner not been forced to return to town, they would have been far away by this time.
Then, of course, they would not have encountered Mr and Miss Darcy at all, and she likely would have had no occasion to meet Mr Darcy ever again.
It might have been better if we had not met again.
Only a moment later, Elizabeth again questioned herself, laughing at her own folly.
Better? Easier perhaps. Compared to what?
I am so ridiculous! Truthfully, did anything of significance happen?
Not by design but by simple chance did we occasion upon Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, and out of courtesy, Mr Darcy introduced us to his sister.
That is all. Things are no different now than they were a week ago.
Yet, in retrospect, things were quite different, and Elizabeth knew it.
She not only had met Mr Darcy but also had the opportunity to witness an utter change: a significant softening of his manners and a completely new aspect of his character in his affectionate care toward his sister.
He had been more than just polite; he had been gracious and, indeed, friendlier —with both herself and her aunt—than she ever had witnessed before.
He had invited her to his home and declared her to be a welcome guest. In addition, he offered to do whatever she required to assure her comfort and enjoyment during the visit.
To her greater surprise, he had encouraged a further acquaintance between her and his sister, promising to call on her in Cheapside, an event she never would have considered possible.
Chills shivered down her spine as her mind admitted the implications of her thoughts.
She could not deny the truth any longer—at least to herself: Her torment was due to the presence near him of the beautiful Lady Cassandra and his warm behaviour toward her.
Obviously, they were more than mere acquaintances, and this realisation greatly affected her, throwing her into a storm of anxious speculations.
“…the last man in the world…”
She never had desired his good opinion nor had she welcomed his declarations.
She was content to know she would never see him again after the unfortunate day at the parsonage.
Then why did the mere presence of another young lady near him bother her so?
She was not jealous—no, that was not possible and could not even be taken into consideration!
But she admitted she was…distressed, a sort of distress she never before had experienced and that made her think herself a simpleton.
Furious to feel her cheeks burning, she sighed deeply, drawing Mrs Gardiner’s attention.
She met her aunt’s inquiring look and forced a smile to calm herself.
Then, with great determination, she kept her gaze fixed upon the activities on stage for that part of the performance.
However, it was fortunate that she knew the play by heart, or she never would have known what transpired during the remaining minutes.
The sudden activity of those around her took Elizabeth by surprise. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that she failed to notice the end of the first act.
Mrs Gardiner asked her opinion about the performance, and she tried to formulate a polite, neutral answer.
The voices around her—complimenting the actors’ performances and the excellence of the play—helped her express a favourable opinion; however, she could not deceive her perceptive aunt who looked with doubt upon her answer.
She considered herself fortunate that Mrs Gardiner did not question her further; instead, they all rose from their seats, and a moment later, the inevitable happened.
As she was facing her aunt, Elizabeth saw the elder lady’s countenance lighten as she curtseyed discreetly and addressed both her niece and her husband. “What a delightful surprise! Mr and Miss Darcy are here too! And so is Colonel Fitzwilliam—just to your left, Lizzy!”
Elizabeth was forced to turn by her aunt’s command and her own curiosity. Mrs Gardiner would not have greeted the Darcy party had the gentlemen not acknowledged her presence first.
She hesitated a few moments, causing her aunt to raise her eyebrow in wonder. “Lizzy, what is the matter with you? Are you not turning to greet Miss Darcy? Is everything well, my dear?”
She nodded in agreement, forced a smile, and then turned to the place she had tried so hard to avoid; yet, by the time her eyes settled on the box, no gentlemen remained—only Miss Darcy and Lady Cassandra.
The former smiled openly at her, the discreet move of her head accompanied by a small gesture with her hand.
Elizabeth returned her warm greeting with real pleasure and an equally warm and genuine smile.
At the same moment, she sensed Lady Cassandra’s insistent, piercing gaze upon her and could do nothing but meet it.
Elizabeth did not fail to comprehend that this second wordless encounter was utterly different from their earlier one when both were oblivious of the other’s identity.
My identity? It must be of little interest other than one of curiosity for her ladyship, Elizabeth thought as her smile faded and her countenance changed from one of friendly warmth to one of demure, though distracted, politeness.
“Well, my dear,” said her aunt, “apparently the gentlemen have left their box. It took you an eternity to decide whether you wished to proffer them a polite look. Really, Lizzy, you are acting rather strangely, my dear. You are not quite yourself.”
“If those gentlemen are not drawing your attention any longer, ladies, perhaps you would allow this gentleman to escort you to the foyer for a few moments before the second act begins,” offered Mr Gardiner, which only caused his wife to laugh affectionately, take his arm, and squeeze it tenderly.