Chapter Twenty Three #2
The colonel silently considered this, and Elizabeth felt the import of her own words.
Every morning, she had read what she transcribed after overhearing Mr. Darcy speak of his love for her, and it did indeed spark something inside her that craved him, that wanted more of his smoldering looks and playful teasing.
The touches they had managed in their acting together, the kiss he had stolen – when she had nearly dared him to do it – all of it had been quite thrilling.
She had enjoyed tumbling about the stage with him, and had even wished to kiss him again, to put the record straight on her abilities, which she had never practiced, and fumbled in surprise – but this could never be.
For them, her family was still an insuperable impediment.
She was not surprised that he had spoken ill of her mother – and she was sure it was her mother who Miss Bingley mentioned at supper.
He had told her in his ghastly proposal what he thought of her relations, and one of them was to soon be in Brighton, getting up to every sort of folly.
Like a coward, she avoided him. They did not speak at the picnic, though he was often staring at her.
At dinner that night, Lady Blanche must have felt sorry for again pressing Elizabeth about Mr. Darcy, for he was seated too far from her for them to be obliged to even look at one another.
Captain Wentworth’s advice to speak to him weighed on Elizabeth, but she dreaded what must surely lead to his return to how he had acted toward her in Meryton.
It would be better, she told herself, but it would be so much worse.
On Monday, the Goulding ladies arranged for another picnic, this one on the manicured grounds behind the house.
The party played lawn games and lounged under canvas tents in idle groups, enjoying the fair weather.
Elizabeth did not wish for Anne to enjoy another lovely day, as she was craving her friend’s company, so she persuaded Captain Bewnick to take Anne’s place.
He had performed very well with Miss Dashwood on Shakespeare Night, as they called it amongst themselves, and he had asked repeatedly after her health the day before.
“Perhaps he will not bore her with his melancholy poetry,” Harriet told Elizabeth and Anne as they played lawn bowls together. “I have higher hopes for this Henry fellow my god-mother has invited to join us. Lord, but the party is already more than half done!”
Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh. Half of her time with Mr. Darcy had passed already, and she would likely never see him again.
If Jane had resumed her flirtation with Mr. Bingley and eventually married him, Elizabeth supposed their paths would cross often enough.
But when they left Richmond Cove, all connection between them would be severed, unless she visited Rosings at Easter again.
She might correspond with Lady Rebecca, but she could hardly depend on this when her wicked friend had been so morose.
Elizabeth wished to get to the bottom of whatever plagued Lady Rebecca, for though she feared it would vex her, Elizabeth supposed that there were few who might dare attempt it, and somebody ought to lend an ear if she required it.
She sought out her friend, who had been at archery with her brother.
Elizabeth watched her friend hit a dozen bullseyes before she tired of it, and she turned to Elizabeth with a look of relief.
“Thank Heavens, Lizzy; I am tiring of my brother’s raillery. I am sure he has never been contemplative a day in his life, and it shows!”
“You might come and walk with me, but I cannot promise that I will not also become impertinent.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam waggled his brows. “Ask her why she is under the impression that Mr. Bingley had acquired a case of leprosy, for I can think of no other reason she should suddenly avoid him like the plague. It cannot have to do with their performance on Shakespeare Night.”
Rebecca shoved him, but he winked at Elizabeth; the two ladies laughed as he stumbled, linked arms, and ambled away.
“I had been enjoying our daily antics with Mr. Bingley. After his attentions to Jane, it is a pleasant surprise that he can best a more… tenacious disposition.”
“With such a sister, he has had practice enough,” Lady Rebecca said, staring at the distant groves.
“What a tepid reply, that will never do! We have not properly berated her together, and I was sure you must wish to laugh at it all with me. Your manner has altered, and I cannot at all account for it.”
“Can you not?”
Elizabeth flinched. “Have you been cross with me?”
“A little, perhaps. I am not angry with you, only I wish I had never thought about what you said – of me and Bingley. It has driven me to distraction.”
Elizabeth gasped – and then she burst out laughing. “Oh! You like him! You LIKE him!”
Lady Rebecca swatted at her. “People will hear you! It must be a secret, or the Goulding Girls will do God knows what!”
“Then it is true? You really fancy Mr. Bingley? You behave like an old married couple already. You may as well be one.”
Lady Rebecca’s lips quirked up, but she sighed. “I think the awareness of it has spoiled everything – I have soiled everything. I hardly know how to be his friend after….”
She went silent, but Elizabeth waited patiently, and to her astonishment, a shocking account poured out of her friend.
She listened with wonder and delight, proud of her friend for being so brave.
“It cannot have been easy, to put yourself forward like that. But he was only distracted by his sister’s…
crisis – if you had not been interrupted. Perhaps it would have turned out well.”
“Then why has he not spoken to me? I shall tell you why – he now thinks I am no better than her, for I would have done the same.”
“Surely not! It is entirely different, you must see that!”
“I am not sure I do, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth spoke with great animation, determined to bolster her friend’s hopes.
“Miss Bingley bedded a known rake with whom she was acquainted less than a fortnight.
You have known Mr. Bingley for years, and you have a remarkable friendship.
You are very fond of one another, and it only took an outsider seeing it to make you comprehend yourself.
You bravely took a chance, examining your feelings and asking him to do the same.
Lady Rebecca gave her a lopsided grin. “Ah. What you mean is that I have risked my heart and not my… honor.”
Elizabeth snorted, unapologetically relishing Miss Bingley’s situation, though it was a pity she would get a title out of it. “You ought to talk to him again.”
Lady Rebecca’s smile brightened. “You amaze me, my dear friend. Such sound advice, and yet you seem entirely insensible of the fact that I might very well say such things to you.
Elizabeth did not have to ask her what she meant. Neither was Lady Rebecca the first person to give her such advice. The stubborn impulse to dig in her heels rose up in her chest, but Elizabeth managed to suppress half a dozen snarky, deflecting replies.
“What am I to say to Mr. Darcy, precisely? You heard what Miss Bingley said at dinner two nights past. I have no doubt the words she repeated were spoken about my mother. He has made no secret of his disdain for my family – and my youngest sister is soon to visit Brighton. It is sure to be a disaster.”
“So, your sister is a flirt? He has a cousin who would likely have been a criminal mastermind if she had been born a man, and would surely have been taken for a witch if born a century past. I should hardly be offended if he were ashamed of me. And I can promise you with all my heart that of the two of us, Lydia Bennet is rather more harmless.”
Elizabeth chewed her lip for a moment. “What do you know of Mr. Wickham?”
“Richard told me everything.” Lady Rebecca arched her brow at Elizabeth. “I also know that Darcy told you of it. But what has Wickham to do with anything?”
“He is in the militia – and my sister will be a guest of the colonel’s wife.”
Lady Rebecca actually cringed. “Lord, perhaps your sister is in some danger! But so are you – you are coming with me – we are speaking to Darcy right now.”
This time, Elizabeth white literally dig her heels into the ground as her friend tugged at her. “What? No! You cannot force me! I shall do it when I please – when I have considered….”
“Consider this.” Lady Rebecca wrapped her arms about Elizabeth’s waist and managed to lift her a foot off the ground, but she staggered as she tried to carry her.
“Rebecca, you are a lunatic! Put me down!”
“Mr. Darcy’s insane relation – good heavens! See, you only lend strength to my argument.”
“You are mad!”
“Call it inspired. I am solving all your problems for you – be still!”
Lady Rebecca shambled forward with her arms around Elizabeth, who writhed and seethed at her. “You ought to tend to your own problems! I shall drag you by the hair and make you face Mr. Bingley!”
“I dare you to try it!” Lady Rebecca laughed. She managed a few more steps while Elizabeth flailed wildly; she soon sent them both tumbling to the ground. They landed in a tangled shambles of legs and skirts, and then a hand extended to Elizabeth. She looked up… at Mr. Darcy.