Chapter Thirteen #2
“Of course.” Elizabeth struggled to mirror Jane’s sunny disposition.
I would give much to possess even half of Jane’s confidence in her fiancé’s love and their future happiness.
But then I do not possess even half of Jane’s goodness.
Ah well. I will be the doting aunt to Jane’s children and teach them to play the piano very ill. That would not be an unpleasant fate.
Soon, Jane returned to her state of extreme felicity. “Now that we are both betrothed, perhaps we should return to Longbourn and plan our weddings. We cannot impose upon Lady Sterling forever.”
A sudden longing for home overcame Elizabeth. Yes, that is what I need. I should return to Longbourn. They need not remain in London. Elizabeth and William could just as easily maintain the illusion of their betrothal with her in Hertfordshire—even more easily than in London.
The thought provoked a hollow ache in her chest, but it must be false. For weeks, Elizabeth had pretended to be enamored with William. Now she found it difficult to distinguish between pretense and reality.
This deception was always designed to end. There was never any other possible outcome.
After a few weeks at Longbourn, surely Elizabeth would no longer miss him. And returning home would allow Jane to marry Mr. Bingley quickly.
“I will write home today and tell Mama to expect us,” Elizabeth said. “Tomorrow is Mr. Darcy’s musicale. We cannot miss that. But we can leave the next morning.”
Jane grinned. “Perfect!” She jumped from her chair. “I hear Lady Sterling in the hall. I must tell her my news!”
She rushed from the room, leaving Elizabeth alone to contemplate her joyous return to Longbourn.
***
The next evening, Elizabeth arrived at Darcy House with Lady Sterling and Jane.
Her time in London had accustomed her to grand houses; Sterling House itself was twice the size of Longbourn.
But Darcy House’s front hall took her breath away.
The room was at least two stories tall; the ceiling seemed as far away as the sky.
The floor was tiled in black-and-white marble; more marble covered the double staircases in the back of the hall.
Near the door was an elaborate flower arrangement that was taller than Elizabeth.
She had not realized what kind of a fortune William must possess. What am I doing here?
Lady Sterling, whose hip had been causing her pain, immediately departed to find a seat in the music room.
William strode forward to greet them, and Elizabeth ceased her perusal of the room.
Gaping in awe probably marked her as a girl from the country.
He greeted Elizabeth with a kiss on her hand, and Jane hastened to join her betrothed.
William offered his good wishes to her and Mr. Bingley.
Whatever his reservations about Elizabeth’s family for his own sake, he appeared genuinely pleased at his friend’s good fortune.
Mr. Bingley thanked his friend, his eyes sweeping from William to Elizabeth.
“I can only hope we will be as happy as you two are.” Elizabeth dropped her eyes, and William cleared his throat.
Had they really been so proficient at pretending their affection?
Fortunately, nobody seemed to notice their reaction.
When Elizabeth looked up, she found William studying her with such intensity, she had to glance away.
Seconds later, the master of Pemberley had taken over, and Elizabeth thought she might have imagined it.
I am fooling myself. He could not possibly conceive a tendre for someone as inappropriate as I am.
She would return to Longbourn, witness Jane marry Mr. Bingley, break off her engagement, and go to live with Lady Sterling. There would be no regrets.
William beckoned to a young lady nearby. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he gestured to the young woman. “May I present my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy?” Though fair-haired, she otherwise resembled her brother. A cream-colored gown, ornamented with pink roses, complemented her slim figure.
Her anxious smile suggested a desperate eagerness for approval. How overwhelming must it be for a girl of sixteen to be surrounded by so many people superior in age. And they would all be judging her performance on the pianoforte. Elizabeth was impressed that she was not hiding in her bedchamber.
Elizabeth exchanged curtsies with the young lady. “I am eager to hear you play, Miss Darcy.”
Miss Darcy colored. “I hope you will be pleased.”
“You always exhibit very well, dearest,” William said with a gentle smile.
His sister wrung her hands together. “And I am always anxious before a performance.”
“I believe that is common for all performers. I always feel nerves, too,” Elizabeth said. “Which composers do you favor?”
It was the correct conversational strategy. Miss Darcy’s eyes lit up, and they immediately fell into a conversation about music.
Jane and Mr. Bingley soon joined the discussion, with Jane relating an amusing story about a pianoforte, a cow, and a rose bush.
While everyone’s attention was directed elsewhere, Elizabeth touched William’s sleeve. She needed to tell him about her plan to return to Longbourn. “Might we have a private word—”