Chapter 23
The final discussions with the solicitors were successful, and the orphanage was to be opened after the New Year.
Elizabeth was busy thinking of the teachers, the attendants, and the managers needed for the proper functioning of the place.
It gave her peace and satisfaction to fight her turmoil in the present with plans for the future.
The night of the Bingleys’ party arrived, and Elizabeth found herself preparing with a heavy heart.
Her sisters were entertaining themselves with Lady Kendal, and she could hear their joyful voices.
She glanced at her image in the mirror; she looked ill, pale and thin—nobody could find her more than tolerable, she mused, while amusement tickled her.
It seemed a lifetime had passed since that evening at the Meryton assembly when she had first met Darcy, three years ago.
Was it only three years? Lady Kendal was right, she had to admit, there was little of the old Lizzy Bennet in the pale woman that stared at her from the mirror.
Eventually, Elizabeth was ready, and the family entered the carriage.
In front of the Bingley house, she stopped and waited, disquieted by the sound of voices coming through the open windows.
Although she was acquainted with everyone in attendance and the house was very familiar to her, she felt reluctant to enter.
It was the first large gathering she would attend in a long while, so she stepped inside hesitantly.
The large drawing-room was filled with people: the Hursts; Bingley’s sister Caroline and her husband, Mr Pemberton, with his sister Abigail; Anne and Colonel Fitzwilliam, with his brother, the viscount, and his wife Eleanor; the Gardiners; and—of course—Georgiana and Darcy.
At their entrance, everyone fell silent and turned to watch them. Elizabeth waited in the doorway, holding Lady Kendal’s arm until all the others had exchanged greetings. Jane and Georgiana were the first to approach and embrace them, then Bingley came to offer his arm to lead them into the room.
Some pleasantries were exchanged and all the gentlemen bowed to Elizabeth and her grandmother. Darcy was the last to do so, standing still, his countenance severe and his face slightly tanned yet thinner. Elizabeth’s eyes met his for a single, ardent heartbeat, and both paled.
“Lady Kendal, Lady Alveston. What a pleasure to see you. You are in good health, I hope?”
“Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Mr Darcy, we are delighted to meet you again,” Lady Kendal replied. “Where have you been, sir? We have asked about you many times!”
“Thank you, your ladyship. I did not want to intrude with inconvenient visits, but please know I am always here to assist you when you need me.”
“We did not need you, sir, but you have been missed. We have come to consider you a close friend, just like Charles or your cousin, the colonel.”
“Your ladyship is too kind. My thoughts and my sympathy have always been with you, I assure you,” he said, glancing one more time at Elizabeth.
“We received your kind letter of condolences,” she interjected in a low voice.
“Words are insufficient on such painful occasions,” he replied, tilting his head slightly.
Elizabeth held his gaze only for a moment longer, before her strength suddenly weakened and she sat down on a sofa, next to her grandmother.
Georgiana and Anne joined her, while Darcy stepped back.
Minutes later, Elizabeth saw him talking to her uncle, and breathed in relief as she had reason to steal several more looks in that direction.
Small groups were formed, and multiple discussions started, but Elizabeth answered mostly absently. Her attention and her interest lay in Darcy only, and all her glances ran towards him.
Bearing so much noise and activity after such a long, silent solitude was too much—as it was too much to see Darcy again so close to her, and to realise that, despite the demands of her mind over her heart, she had belonged to him all this time.
She yearned to watch his handsome features, his dark eyes, to hear his hoarse voice, to feel his warmth, his caresses.
Her longing for him was stronger than she had imagined and soon became overwhelming.
Suddenly panicked, she felt she could not breathe, so she rose from her seat and moved to the open window, rejoicing in the cool breeze.
Lady Kendal and everyone else looked comfortable and entertained, and the party was a success.
Except for her. She should not have come—or she should leave before she affected her friends.
While she tried to regain some composure, Elizabeth sighed when her eyes met Darcy’s again. From a far corner of the room, seemingly engaged in conversation, he observed her distress and understood.
Slowly, he walked towards her. She watched him, mesmerised, wishing to run but unable to move.
Eventually, he was only a step away. His eyes lingered on her face, then he bowed and whispered, “Lady Alveston, I would gladly leave if it would put you at ease. I could find a reason to excuse myself. Just let me know what you wish me to do.”
These were the first words he had addressed to her privately after more than a year. Tears burned behind her eyelashes while she clasped her hands together. Her gaze was still captured by his when she said, “Do not leave.”
He frowned in surprise, then his face lit with relief.
“I shall not unless you ask me to. But you look pale and unwell. May I do anything for your present relief?”
“I am just a little dizzy. Other than that, I am perfectly well. It is warm in here and…”
“Would you like something to drink? I could bring you some wine or some punch?”
“A glass of water would be ideal,” she replied.
“Of course. A moment,” he answered, and hurried towards the table with the refreshments.
She watched him filling a glass of fresh water, then carrying it to her in haste.
It was a kind gesture, but she did not dare consider it more than mere politeness.
He handed her the glass but she feared to take it, as their fingers were doomed to touch.
Again, he seemed to guess her hesitation, so he held the glass still, allowing her to take it.
She did so with infinite care, then gulped from it greedily.
She felt his stare on her face as intense as a touch, and cold shivers thrilled her skin under the heavy gown.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Is that better?”
“Much better. I should return to my place now,” she said, moving hesitantly.
He followed her for a few steps, then bowed and departed again, while Elizabeth returned to the sofa. That was all.
“Elizabeth, has something happened?” Lady Kendal enquired. “I saw Mr Darcy bringing you water. Are you unwell? Do you want to leave?”
Only a short while ago she would have accepted such a suggestion with utter relief. Now, leaving him seemed more painful than bearing his presence.
“No, not at all. I am quite well. The conversation with Mr Darcy and the fresh water was very helpful,” she said with complete honesty.
She did feel more at ease after the brief encounter.
As short as it was, it had dissipated some of her concerns about the evening.
He apparently did not feel any more comfortable than her—nor did he seem any more confident in regard to that evening.
In that, their feelings were equal. Had he missed her too, as much as she had missed him?
Eventually, dinner was announced. Colonel Fitzwilliam offered his wife and Lady Kendal each an arm, and out of the corner of her eye Elizabeth noticed Darcy walking towards her.
Her face coloured, as she assumed he wished to accompany her to the table.
Instead, she was startled as she heard Bingley’s voice, “My dear sister, may I escort you to the dining room?”
On his other arm, Jane was smiling, and Elizabeth nodded. Behind them, Caroline’s sister-in-law—Miss Abigail Pemberton—clung onto Darcy and whispered something to him.
Before the first course was served, animated conversations resumed. Elizabeth was sitting close to her sister, Georgiana, and Mrs Gardiner. Lady Kendal was several chairs away and so was Darcy—only on the opposite side of the table.
“Lady Alveston, your company is such a rare gift that we feel privileged to see you,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said ceremoniously.
“You are too kind, sir,” she replied lightly. “But I have had the pleasure of seeing your wife rather often in the last fortnight.”
“That may be. I know you have seen my mother too, but I am still entitled to feel privileged for seeing you,” the colonel jested. “You have been missed in the last months,” he added in earnest.
“You and your family’s friendship honours me, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth declared, equally serious.
“Upon my word, I still find it difficult to call the former Eliza Bennet ‘Lady Alveston’,” Caroline Pemberton interjected. “I was just talking to my husband about it. What a change it must have been for you! I am sure you never dreamed of marrying so advantageously and being so rich!”
For a moment there was silence around the table. Jane took the offence on her sister’s behalf and paled. Bingley attempted to intervene, but Elizabeth answered before he could speak.
“I confess I did not. The main advantage of my marriage was that I became the relation of a wonderful man and a wonderful lady. The wealth is an additional weight that I am willingly carrying.”
“Oh, come now Miss Bennet….excuse me, Lady Alveston. Surely you cannot claim that your present situation in life and fortune is a burden. I find it hypocritical to complain about being too rich.”
“Please allow me to call it anything I want, Miss Bingley…excuse me, Mrs Pemberton. And I am not complaining of anything. I am grateful for everything I had and I still have. But a great fortune comes with great responsibilities and with hard work.”