Chapter 24 #2
She read the note twice. That was the trouble with the Darcy family.
She had come to London armed against one proud man and had been instead thrown into the company of a shy girl who played splendidly but did not believe it, a lady who noticed everything and matched everyone, and a gentleman who seemed less a proud, haughty man than an affectionate and protective son and brother.
She genuinely liked them all, and losing their friendship would hurt.
But she must face the eventuality. Whoever married Mr. Darcy would gain Lady Anne and Miss Darcy in the bargain. Miss Finch had already pronounced Miss Darcy’s playing the best she had heard this season, and she had made Mr. Darcy laugh. Lady Anne obviously approved of her.
They would all do very well together.
Elizabeth put the note in her workbasket where she would not see it. Then she took it out again and set it on the table, because hiding it was ridiculous. She would answer it tomorrow. After.
She gave up on Mary’s letter entirely and went to the front room, where her exhibition catalogue was resting on the small table.
She had meant to note the descriptions of the pictures she liked best but had marked nothing, in the end.
The pencil had been in her hand the whole morning.
She remembered the art very clearly—the Derbyshire view, the bluebells, the half moment when she had turned to Mr. Darcy before she recalled why she should not. Yet the catalogue was perfectly clean.
She touched it, straightened it, then left it where it lay.
In the afternoon, Jane took the children to choose new copybooks at the stationer’s. Afterward, they would visit the toy shop near St. Paul’s, where they would be allowed to spend sixpence each if they all behaved.
“Behaving,” Jane told their youngest cousin, “means that you cannot press your nose to the glass.”
It was an expedition requiring two footmen and a lengthy set of rules, and one that Elizabeth would normally have joined quite happily. But today, she pleaded a headache.
The house went quiet after they all left, and Elizabeth sat with her aunt over a basket of hemming.
Her aunt sewed. She did not ask why Elizabeth’s needle never moved.
She did not ask about the gallery, or the sonata evening, or Thursday.
Twice Elizabeth drew breath to begin a sentence, and twice she let it out again.
Any confession seemed likely to begin with a complaint, and she had no right to one.
Her aunt cut her thread and reached for the next hem. “Whatever it is you are fretting over, you may confide in me whenever you choose,” she said.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. If only she could articulate what was bothering her without sounding foolish.
Jane returned at five with the children, the copybooks, and a full report of the expedition.
It had been a success, though success, in this case, had apparently required two warnings, turning back around for one misplaced glove, and a rather detailed discussion over whether a wooden horse could be considered useful if it made its owner happy.
“Edward says it can,” Jane said, untying her bonnet. “But I believe his opinion was influenced by his desire to own it.”
Elizabeth smiled despite herself. “What a philosophical debate to have in a toy shop. Was the horse purchased?”
“No. It was beyond his means. But he was permitted to admire it for a rather long time.” Jane sat beside her and drew off her gloves, still smiling.
“They were very good at the stationer’s.
Less good before the pastry cook’s window, but truthfully, Lizzy, the iced cakes and sugar houses were charming, and I cannot say I blamed them.
Even I wished to press my nose to the glass. ”
They spoke of ordinary things over dinner—the warehouse, the children’s outing, Mary’s letter. Nobody mentioned the visit that would come tomorrow.
The candle was nearly out that night when Jane came in to speak with her.
“Shall I sit with you tomorrow? When Mr. Darcy comes?”
“You shall be wanted, certainly.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Elizabeth looked over. “What did you ask, then?”
“I am not certain,” Jane said. “Only you have not seemed yourself since the evening Miss Darcy played for us. If it is anything I may share, I wish you would allow me.”
“I cannot settle it in my mind, Jane,” Elizabeth said, moving over so that Jane might slip under the covers. “Why does he come? Has it anything to do with me at all, or is he visiting Aunt Gardiner for some reason? You know I cannot settle when I am faced with a question I cannot answer.”
“Tomorrow will be here soon enough, and then you will know. You should not fret yourself out of your rest tonight.”
If it were only so easy as this. “You are right, of course.”
There was a long pause where Jane seemed to be waiting for her to speak again, but Elizabeth did not know what to say.
Eventually, Jane swung her legs back out of the bed. “Good night, Lizzy.”
“Good night, Jane.”
Elizabeth could not put it aside. She lay awake, listening to the sounds of the house settling around her. She had spent all day fearing that he meant to explain himself, but now, in the dark, something worse occurred to her. That he would not explain himself at all.
“Oh,” she said with a groan, tossing herself onto her stomach and burying her face in her pillow. “I shall never sleep tonight.”