Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The opera house continued to buzz around them. Darcy felt undeniably stupid, unable to pull himself from his astonished trance. It was Elizabeth who broke the spell, saying kindly, “Will you introduce me to your friend?”
Georgiana was greatly pleased by her notice and flushed becomingly as the introductions were made.
“Darcy, will you join us in our box?”
“We would be delighted.” He possessed himself of Elizabeth’s hand, placing it within his arm and moved her through the crowd. He was aware of Fitzwilliam’s scowl behind him, but Lady Matlock nudged the colonel towards Georgiana, and that was that.
Progress was slow as they made their way to the boxes with Elizabeth subjected to introduction after introduction, including to Saye who met them just outside the box.
Their comfort did not improve when they finally gained their seats as doing so enabled the rest of the crowd to stare at and discuss them.
Speculation on the exact nature of the relationship between Elizabeth, the Fitzwilliams, and the Darcys was rampant, but for once Darcy cared nothing for the indignity of being an object of scrutiny and speculation.
At once, so much made sense: Mrs Bennet’s airs, the inexplicably fine horse, the expensive jewels, and the trip to Italy of which he had heard Elizabeth speak. The sadness he had thought he saw in her at times—it was only to be expected for one who had lost a husband at such an early age.
Thinking of her deceased husband brought a brief pang to him. He could not like the thought of Elizabeth pining for another man, but it was several years gone by. Surely, if she sought a husband, she was inclined to put her past behind her.
I can marry her now.
Although it was an obvious notion, its realisation made him almost giddy, and he fought against breaking into laughter.
He pinched his arm rather roughly, wishing to be certain this was not some sort of dream from which he would wake and then plunge into disappointment.
The pain of his fingers bruising his arm made him wince.
He glanced over to see Elizabeth watching him. She arched one eyebrow, and he grinned sheepishly in return.
“Are you well?”
“Very well,” he told her expressively. “Better than I have been in some time.”
As the first act began Darcy continually stole glances at Elizabeth, admiring her calm acceptance of all the attention she drew.
He might have been inclined to act peevish or a bit aloof, but Elizabeth smiled kindly and spoke with ease to their entire party, which included her aunt and uncle, Sir Edward and Lady Gardiner.
Darcy was surprised to learn that Sir Edward was in trade.
He had recently been knighted for a service that was unspecified, but Darcy thought it likely had something to do with Elizabeth’s situation.
There was much speculation about Miss Jane Bennet.
Although she had only a small fortune, she was desirable by virtue of being the sister of Lady Courtenay and possessing extraordinary beauty.
Her warm greeting of Mr Bingley led many to wonder about the nature of their attachment.
Darcy was pleased on behalf of his friend to see her demure glances in the direction where Bingley sat with his sisters and her pretty blushes on the occasions when Bingley caught her with his gaze.
Elizabeth showed great condescension to Georgiana as well, speaking to her far more than was required, given that his sister was not yet out. Darcy was relieved to see that Georgiana was well behaved for once and even a bit timid in Elizabeth’s presence.
It was not surprising to see the Bingleys set upon them at the intermission. Darcy found it enjoyably odd that for once, he was not Miss Bingley’s first object of admiration. On this night, that honour would go to Elizabeth.
“I cannot say I am entirely shocked by this revelation, Lady Courtenay,” Miss Bingley preened, seeing the eyes of the ton upon her as she was admitted to their box.
She immediately took the liberty of drawing Elizabeth to her in a tight, far-too-familiar clasp.
Darcy saw that Elizabeth was startled, but she did not embarrass Miss Bingley with overt hesitation.
“No? That is a surprise.”
“When we were introduced, I immediately noted something in your air, a refinement that can only come from exposure to higher society and a better class of people than is seen in the country.”
Elizabeth looked amused. “As I only spent a few months in the company of better society, and most of that on the Continent, I must credit the environs of Hertfordshire for my ‘air’.”
“Hertfordshire is a delightful place, simply delightful! I told Charles just the other day that I longed to return to Netherfield.” Miss Bingley was effusive in her falsehoods.
“We see it the same way, Miss Bingley.”
Seeing Elizabeth was weary of Miss Bingley’s conversation, Darcy thought it a fine time to interrupt the discussion. “Lady Courtenay, some wine perhaps?”
“Too late, Cousin, I have beat you to it.” Saye had risen, unseen, and gone off to stretch his legs, returning with the drink for Elizabeth. She accepted it graciously, giving him a smile.
“After such an arduous trip through the entrance hall, I am thirsty!”
“I am certain you are!” Saye leant abominably close to her, smiling engagingly as though it was his right. “After all, though it is an opera, one cannot deny that you are the belle of the ball.”
Elizabeth regarded him sceptically as he spoke and finished his compliment with a deep bow over her gloved hand. When he had risen, she smiled sweetly. “You are gifted in the art of flattery, my lord.”
“With such beauty before me, I am overflowing with admiration and give voice to only a small bit of it.” He again smiled, looking a bit wolfish in Darcy’s estimation.
The intermission was coming to its end, and Elizabeth, with no apparent pleasure, made a generous gesture to Miss Bingley that Darcy knew must be a compliment to his friend.
“Miss Bingley?”
“Yes, my dear Lady Courtenay?”
“I shall not receive everyone who calls this week, as I am exceedingly busy, but should you wish to call, my sister and I would be pleased to receive you.”
If possible, Miss Bingley preened more, announcing loudly, as she prepared to depart the box, “How pleased I am that we shall further our intimacy here in town. What a splendid time we shall all have together!”
The last sight Darcy had of Miss Bingley was her head turning, with feathers bobbing madly, as she eagerly looked around to see who had noticed her friendship with Lady Courtenay.
The remainder of the evening’s entertainment passed much as the first part had: Elizabeth watching the opera while the rest of the house watched her.
There was a second intermission, during which they were besieged by more callers.
Elizabeth looked nearly faint with exhaustion by the time the opera finally ended.
It was painful to part from her at the end of the evening, but Darcy knew he would call on her the next day. Tomorrow, my beloved. He hoped rather than believed that his anticipation would afford him sleep that night, if only so that he might dream of her.