Chapter 11
SIX
Longbourn.
Darcy
The gentlemen from Netherfield had been gone perhaps an hour when Jane came in search of Elizabeth.
She had retired to her bedchamber in hopes of taking a short nap, but was instead lying upon her bed with a book and making genuine progress through it for once. Elizabeth lifted her head from the page at the sound of the door opening.
One look at Jane's face was enough. There was mischief there. This was not a mere sisterly visit.
Jane sat upon the edge of the bed without preamble and folded her hands in her lap with an expression of such innocence that Elizabeth distrusted it immediately.
"Well," Elizabeth said. "Out with it."
Jane smiled. "I have said nothing."
"You have said nothing very loudly. I can tell you are planning some mischief."
Jane laughed so suddenly that she bent forward and pressed a hand to her stomach. Elizabeth could not help joining her.
When their amusement had subsided, Jane composed herself and regarded her younger sister with suspicious solemnity.
"Mr. Darcy came today," she said at last.
Elizabeth frowned.
She was almost certain she knew where this conversation was leading.
"What are you trying to say?"
"He has never come before."
"There is always a first occasion for everything."
"He sat beside you."
"The space beside me happened to be vacant, and he scarcely occupied it before Papa carried him away to the window."
"Lizzy." Jane widened her eyes in exaggerated disbelief. "He watched you the entire visit. Every time you spoke, he attended to it. When Mama said something that embarrassed you, he noticed before you had entirely concealed your expression."
Elizabeth said nothing.
"He came to Longbourn," Jane continued, "which he has never done. He chose to sit beside you. And after Papa carried him away, he answered every question put to him whilst continuing to look across the room at you between them." She paused. "I am not imagining it."
"I did not say you were."
"You may as well have."
Elizabeth closed her book.
Her gaze drifted to the window, to the pale grass silvered by frost, the bare hedgerows, and the grey afternoon sky beyond. Her thoughts wandered unwillingly through every interaction she had had with Mr. Darcy since his arrival in Hertfordshire.
"I truly do not know why Mr. Darcy accompanied Mr. Bingley today," she said at last. "He is a very observant man."
"Yes," Jane replied. "He is. And so are you. Which may be why his attention makes you uncomfortable."
"I am uncomfortable because that attention appears to be directed entirely towards me."
Jane merely looked at her with the calm patience of someone waiting for the remainder of the truth.
"I do not know what he wants," Elizabeth admitted. The words emerged more quietly than she intended. "But Mr. Darcy seems remarkably interested in me."
"And why is that such a dreadful thing?" Jane asked. "He is handsome, possesses a very respectable fortune, and behaves exceedingly well in your presence. You have said as much yourself."
Elizabeth shook her head. Jane had misunderstood her entirely.
"I do not believe Mr. Darcy's interest has anything to do with romantic inclinations."
Jane frowned. "What else could it be?"
"I do not know." Elizabeth sat up a little straighter. "But unless I am very much mistaken, I believe he knows that I do not hear well."
Jane stared at her.
For a moment she appeared genuinely shocked.
"That is impossible." Jane said.
"But I think he does."
Elizabeth then recounted each of her encounters with Mr. Darcy. The assembly. Lucas Lodge. Oakham Mount. The peculiar questions regarding crowded rooms and conversation. The deliberate manner in which he always placed himself upon her left.
"I believe he saw me repeat his words at the assembly," Elizabeth said. "I suspect that was when he first guessed." She sighed. "In truth, I do not know what to think anymore. Perhaps I am merely surprised that he has noticed me at all. Or perhaps I am surprised that I may be right."
Jane was silent for some time.
"He said you were not handsome enough to tempt him, and now he pays you particular attention?" she said at last. "I admit the circumstance invites suspicion."
"Exactly." Elizabeth pointed at her sister. "More suspicious still is the manner in which he contrived my acquaintance with his sister."
At this Jane shook her head. "Whatever may be said of Mr. Darcy, I do not believe his desire for you to know Miss Darcy has anything to do with this."
"No?"
"No. Charles speaks of him often. Mr. Darcy is exceedingly protective of his sister. Indeed, the very fact that he sought your acquaintance for his sister suggests that he trusts your judgement and values your character." Jane tilted her head slightly. "What do you think?"
Elizabeth was quiet for a long moment.
Her thoughts returned to Georgiana.
Then to Darcy standing at the edge of the room at Lucas Lodge, watching them converse with that expression she had been unable to name at the time.
She was beginning to name it now.
"I think," she said slowly, "that whatever his reason for wishing me acquainted with Miss Darcy, it is not a simple one. The fact that he sought it only after he began observing me suggests as much."
She paused, considering the matter further.
"And I think there is something about Miss Darcy that I do not yet understand."
Jane only nodded. She did not press further.
That was one of Jane's greatest virtues. She always knew when enough had been said.
"Lizzy." She reached out and briefly squeezed Elizabeth's hand. "You have never allowed your hearing to govern your life. I do not know another person who accomplishes half of what you do whilst managing such a difficulty."
Elizabeth smiled faintly.
"Whatever Mr. Darcy knows or does not know," Jane continued, "he has treated you with nothing but consideration. That must count for something."
"It counts for a great deal," Elizabeth admitted. "A great many ladies would be pleased to receive such attention."
"Exactly."
"Which is precisely why it unsettles me."
Jane laughed softly.
She rose, smoothed her skirts, and moved towards the door.
"Perhaps," she said, pausing with her hand upon the latch, "being unsettled is not the worst thing that could happen to you."
She departed before Elizabeth could think of a suitable reply.
Elizabeth sank back against her pillow and stared up at the ceiling.
For all his unwelcome interest in her hearing and the slight he had delivered at the assembly, Elizabeth found herself reluctantly admiring Mr. Darcy.
Which was deeply inconvenient.
What was there not to like?
He was undeniably handsome. Handsome enough that she had noticed him immediately at the Meryton assembly.
It was that very circumstance which had led her to observe him closely enough to discover what he had said about her.
Afterwards it had been easy to accept the neighbourhood's judgement that he was proud.
Handsome gentlemen with enormous fortunes were frequently accused of pride.
Often with good reason.
Yet his attention to her hearing remained troubling.
Why could she not rid herself of the suspicion that he wished to know the truth?
Worse still, why did she increasingly suspect that he already did?
She possessed no answers to the many questions occupying her thoughts.
At length she picked up her book once more.
The desire to read it, however, had entirely vanished.
? ? ?
Netherfield
Darcy
Georgiana returned from the modiste scarcely half an hour when Darcy came back from Longbourn.
He found her in the drawing room still wearing her pelisse, and one glance at her countenance was enough to tell him that she had spent the greater part of the day in company she esteemed rather more than she enjoyed.
"Walk with me," he said.
She took his arm without question, and together they went out by the side entrance and into the grounds. The afternoon was cold but bright, the pale winter sun hanging low above the trees, and the park was quiet at that hour.
"How was your morning?" he asked.
"Very well." She considered. "The modiste possessed some beautiful muslins. Miss Bingley has excellent taste in fabrics."
"And Meryton itself? Did you see much of it?"
"A little. We passed through the market." Something softened in her expression. "There was a woman selling preserves who became so determined to prove the superiority of her gooseberry jam that I nearly purchased a jar merely to end the debate."
"Did you?"
"I did." A small smile touched her lips. "She was entirely justified. It was excellent."
He looked at her, at the faint colour in her cheeks from the cold air and the quiet animation that had been absent for so many months, and felt something ease within him.
"It does me good to see you out again," he said. "Genuinely out. Not merely enduring an occasion."
Georgiana glanced up at him. "I am trying."
"I know." Darcy stared into a distance, then back at her. "And I am very proud of you."
She did not answer, but neither did she look away, and that was enough.
They continued in silence for a short distance. Frost still lingered in the shadows of the hedgerows.
"I saw Miss Elizabeth today," Darcy said.
Georgiana's face brightened at once. "How is she?"
"Very well. She sends her regards."
"I am sorry I could not go. I should have liked to see her."
They turned onto the lower path. Darcy watched the ground for a moment, considering how best to proceed.
"There is something I wish to tell you," he said at last. "Something I would not ordinarily discuss."
Georgiana stopped and turned towards him. "What is it?"
Darcy hesitated.
For the better part of three days he had considered how best to broach the subject with Georgiana. Every approach he devised seemed either too direct or insufficiently honest. Until that afternoon, he had hoped some more suitable course might suggest itself.
None had.