Chapter 22
The first people they met upon entering the upper lobby were the Darcys.
And this time, he looked worried. Even Elizabeth could perceive his state of mind.
He looked at the procession coming in their direction, with Thomas Bennet escorting the duchess and Mrs Bennet on Mr Kendall’s arm, and his heart froze.
His words against Mrs Bennet still reverberated in his ears whilst this young gentleman was on the best of terms with Elizabeth’s mother.
He took advantage of his sister joyfully welcoming Lydia, Kitty and Mary to offer his arm to Elizabeth, uncertain where they would view the play.
He had a box, but Thomas Bennet certainly did too.
Unwilling to surrender the advantage of escorting Miss Bennet, he addressed the rest of the party, who had paused to wait for them.
“Would you give us the pleasure of joining us in our box?” he asked, gesturing towards the open door nearby.
The answer came with unexpected firmness from Mr Bennet. “Yes, thank you, Mr Darcy. Your box is better placed than the one we rent. Please, show us the way.”
Mr Darcy had not expected anyone else to speak.
Encouraged by that first small victory, he remained beside Miss Bennet and thus secured a seat near her.
Matters unfolded exactly as he had hoped.
When the play began, however, Elizabeth intercepted a glance from her uncle in their direction and gradually became convinced that the arrangement of seats within the box had been entirely of Uncle Thomas’s making.
The suspicion distracted her from the play for several minutes.
Mr Kendall sat in the second row behind her mother and Lydia, his countenance far from cheerful, whilst Mr Darcy leaned close to whisper how stunning she looked.
His nearness affected her in a manner she could not control.
Whenever he bent towards her, colour rose instantly to her cheeks.
The agitation of her heart left little doubt regarding the nature of her feelings.
At the first interval, however, her certainty wavered once more.
In the brightly lit lobby, a procession of people from the ton approached to greet the duchess, and every one of them appeared to know Darcy.
They exchanged greetings and spoke of visits to country estates, postponed hunting parties, and acquaintances Elizabeth had never heard of before.
It was plainly his world. No one spoke of the play; they seemed to have attended the theatre merely to see and be seen.
The only person genuinely interested in the performance was Miss Darcy, and Elizabeth approached her to discuss the first act.
“It is a relief to find a person who is actually interested in what is happening upon the stage,” said Elizabeth.
Both rejoiced in their mutual interest. Around them, the conversations wandered very far from Shakespeare.
“My brother told me that you would probably be the best companion for discussing the play.”
“Your brother has a high opinion of me. I am not sure that I deserve it.”
Even whilst she spoke, her eyes sought the brother whose attention appeared equally fixed upon her. “I am sure he is right,” said Georgiana with confidence. “And I hope to have the chance to converse with you far away from this noise.”
The two ladies agreed to meet one morning.
“And spend a few hours discussing the play, or any other subject except fashion,” added Elizabeth.
“And balls,” Georgiana added.
“You do not like balls, Miss Darcy?” asked Mr Kendall as he approached them under Darcy’s watchful eye. The latter remained trapped amongst a group of friends and could not easily escape.
“I do not like them much,” she answered, blushing before the handsome gentleman she had only just met.
Observing her rosy cheeks and her tendency to lower her eyes, Elizabeth concluded that she was unaccustomed to meeting strangers or participating in large gatherings.
It seemed remarkable that so rich an heiress should be so shy and so unfamiliar with the society her brother appeared to navigate with ease.
Visibly embarrassed by her own blushes, Georgiana murmured, “We live most of the year at Pemberley. We lead a rather secluded life there.”
Elizabeth could not help but count that amongst Darcy’s advantages. It suggested that he spent much of his life at Pemberley, removed from London and the ton.
“But this year I shall be presented at court and, I hope, that will change,” Miss Darcy continued.
The prospect did not appear to delight her, yet Elizabeth again found herself uncertain.
A court presentation belonged to a world beyond anything a young lady from Meryton could imagine.
Her gaze drifted once more towards Mr Kendall.
Gradually, she understood that she was no longer considering him merely as an individual.
He had become the embodiment of a different sort of future: a simple life, a pleasant family, country balls amongst neighbours, and occasional visits to London for a new gown and a play.
Several less than cordial glances passed between Mr Darcy and Mr Kendall. Each wished to secure Elizabeth’s attention. Darcy soon perceived that his rival’s interest lay entirely with Elizabeth and not with Shakespeare.
At the second interval, therefore, Darcy employed weapons more suited to the battlefield before him.
“Do you think, Miss Bennet, that the author is right when he says, ‘All the world’s a stage?’”
Thomas nodded with satisfaction. Meaningful conversation always held great value in Elizabeth’s eyes.
“Yes, Mr Darcy. I think all of us are tempted to assume a certain role when confronted by an unpleasant or unfamiliar situation. It is often wiser than rushing into a conflict where one may be hurt.”
“So you believe in wearing a mask?” asked Miss Darcy, somewhat shocked.
“No, absolutely not. Villains wear masks by instinct. Good people must simply learn to protect themselves and avoid displaying their kind nature to every stranger.”
By then, a small circle had gathered around them. Mr Kendall remained close to Elizabeth, unwilling to surrender his place, though equally unwilling to interrupt.
“And what about ‘Whoever loved that loved not at first sight?’” asked Thomas, wishing to prolong the discussion.
“I think it is not Shakespeare’s line,” said Mary. Following the duchess’s advice, she spoke with confidence, and someone immediately confirmed her correction.
“That is quite true, Miss. Mr Marlowe wrote a poem that ends with that line, though I do not recall its title.”
“Is it Hero and Leander?” asked Mary. She knew the answer perfectly well, though she still employed the little mask the duchess had encouraged her to wear. For the first time in her life, every eye turned towards her with admiration.
“Blessed is the person who knows love at first sight,” said the duchess.
Thomas stood beside her, and in that moment she felt that the world had settled into its proper place once more. Between them, there was neither pretence nor disguise.
The interval ended in Darcy’s complete victory. Elizabeth enjoyed the conversation so much that during the following act, she even turned her attention away from the stage.
“Was it love at first sight?” she murmured.
“For some of us, yes,” he replied in a playful tone. “Without any doubt.”
No one overheard them, but the previous conversation only strengthened Mr Kendall’s determination to fight on other grounds, more suited to himself.
As soon as the act concluded, another group formed around the Bennets in the lobby, attracted by the ladies’ beauty and wit. Mr Kendall placed himself beside Elizabeth and seized a pause in the conversation.
“Did you enjoy your first riding lesson, Miss Bennet?”
Darcy froze. “Riding lesson?” he repeated. His displeasure was so evident that no one could miss it.
“Jealousy,” Thomas murmured in the duchess’s ear, and she merely smiled.
“Yes, Mr Darcy,” Mr Kendall answered quickly, fearing that someone might divert the conversation before he had secured his advantage.
Darcy felt defeated. The triumph of the previous interval vanished instantly.
Mr Kendall cared little that only the family understood the true significance of the exchange.
It was enough that his rival should witness the influence he possessed with the lady they both admired.
Nor was it a trivial success. No one had ever persuaded Elizabeth even to approach a horse before.
Darcy remembered, with considerable bitterness, his own unsuccessful attempts to induce her merely to stroke one of her uncle’s magnificent steeds.
However, it was not the victory that Mr Kendall wished for as Elizabeth considered the situation and did not like the game.
Hurting Darcy was not what she wanted and his discomfort made her tremble too.
Looking directly at him, she answered in a steady voice, “I do not consider it such a victory to lead a horse. That is all that occurred. I approached him and walked him around the ménège whilst the groom followed beside me.”
“On the contrary, it is a victory, Miss Bennet,” said Mr Kendall, attempting to recover the ground he had lost.
“No, Mr Kendall. I merely resolved to overcome my fear. It was a personal achievement. I do not consider it an interesting subject to anyone except myself, and certainly not in a theatre lobby.”
Noticing her embarrassment and displeasure, the duchess immediately turned the conversation towards another subject.
Once again, Mary distinguished herself, and even Lydia contributed an observation regarding Rosalind that sent her companions into laughter.
The youngest Bennet proved herself not merely witty but genuinely amusing.
Elizabeth was relieved when the conversation moved elsewhere. She had never wished to become the object of a contest between the two gentlemen. Such displays belonged nowhere, in her opinion, and least of all in a theatre lobby. The recollection of Darcy’s discomfort only increased her regret.
Darcy’s conduct had at least suited the occasion.
They were at the theatre, and no one could object to a discussion of Shakespeare.
The mention of her riding lesson appeared of an entirely different nature.
Elizabeth could not think it proper that a matter so personal should be made the subject of public conversation.