Chapter 28
TWELFTH NIGHT
Darcy did not see Miss Elizabeth again until a very brief exchange after church; it was cold and spitting snow, and the gathering in the churchyard lasted only so long as it took to bring each carriage around.
He arrived at Haye-Park on the final night of the year determined to be bolder in his wooing.
He would be an old man before she learnt to love him if he did not exert himself, and if he were not sat near her at dinner, there would be opportunity in the games which were to follow.
He also now had an ally bent on advancing his cause.
It had come to him the previous day that, having resolved after encountering Wickham once more to keep his sister better informed in matters which might concern her, he had not yet advised her that he was contemplating an alliance which would not be universally lauded.
He had sat her down and with unprecedented openness explained that he was in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet and hoped to make her his wife.
He hoped, he said, that Georgiana would not be much disturbed by the likely disapprobation from some members of their family and of society, assuring her that most would come to accept the situation in time.
Neither did he fail to mention that some gentlemen might hesitate to consider her as a potential bride due to the connexion, especially if he gained Bingley as a brother through his marriage, but he thought those would be very few in number.
Georgiana had immediately disclaimed any interest in such ‘priggish, stupid’ gentlemen, declaring that losing their approbation would only improve her experience of society.
She was delighted to imagine gaining such a sister—no, she was ecstatic.
Her good friend Miss Kitty would then become family, also, which only added to her felicity.
Then she declared that she would assist him in his quest whenever the opportunity arose.
This offer, he had accepted gratefully. Miss Bingley was becoming more of an annoyance.
Whether she had sensed his interest becoming focused on another, or was simply panicking now that all her demonstrations of skill as a hostess had not induced him to pay her a whit more attention, he did not know, but her attentions to him were becoming more overt, and when he had paused to greet the Bennets after church, he had done so with her hanging onto his arm and ostentatiously lifting her nose at those with whom he was speaking.
It was a small gathering; the Gouldings had invited the Bennets, the Lucases, and the Netherfield party to mark the end of the year with them.
This suited Darcy exactly. He would be comfortable in this company, the noise was unlikely to become bothersome, and all in all, it was a situation in which he felt he could display himself to best advantage.
When he learnt from their hostess as she greeted them that seating at dinner would be informal, he had the giddy thought that if ever he were to make a large wager, it ought to be tonight, for his luck was certainly in.
Almost as soon as he thought it, his luck changed for the worse.
He, Fitzwilliam, and Bingley made directly for the ladies they favoured, who were standing together with Miss Kitty and Miss Long, but the moment he straightened from his bow, a hand seized his arm, wrapping about the crook of his elbow.
Miss Bingley.
He was perilously near to saying something shockingly rude, when the merest twitch of the corner of Miss Elizabeth’s mouth caught his attention.
She nodded at him as though acknowledging his greeting, but the amusement in her eyes was clear, and just like that, his temper settled.
Miss Bingley was ridiculous and too, too brazen, but it would not do to shame her before the company.
Therefore, he hinted at his displeasure by ignoring her as best he could, entering into the conversation and acknowledging her infrequent and openly disdainful contributions with no more than an inclination of the head to signal that he had heard her.
The dinner hour was rapidly approaching and he had resigned himself to escorting Miss Bingley as well as Miss Elizabeth into the dining room when his sister drew Miss Bingley’s attention, saying, “Miss Bingley, will you help me? I feel as though one of my hairpins has come loose, but Kitty does not see it.” She presented the back of her head, and even Darcy could see a pin sticking out at an angle from among the artfully twisted locks.
A glance at Miss Kitty showed her to be looking intently at the tips of her shoes, and he suspected she was exerting herself not to laugh.
Miss Bingley was then forced to relinquish Darcy’s arm in order to assist Georgiana, after which his sister gamely retained her attention by offering her thanks and laughingly speaking of how mortifying it would have been had her hair tumbled down at the dinner table.
This was interrupted by the announcement of the meal, and Darcy wasted not a second in offering his arm to Miss Elizabeth and beckoning his sister to take the other.
Poor Miss Bingley entered the dining room on her brother’s arm.
Once the soup course was served, he turned to Miss Elizabeth and remarked, “I see your youngest sister has stayed at home. Your father holds to his resolution?”
“Entirely, and to the great satisfaction of myself and my other sisters,” she replied with an appearance of relief and no little amazement.
“She is too young and too ignorant to conduct herself properly in company; Kitty is almost two years her elder and has only recently begun to really consider how she appears to others, and how she wishes to be seen.”
He recalled the plight of Miss Susan Harrington and shuddered to think how close the Bennets had come to being mired in such a scandal, without even the dubious relief of an improvident marriage to ameliorate their downfall.
Would that have deterred him from pursuing Miss Elizabeth?
He could not say; his decision to pursue her had come after it seemed the affair had been hushed up, and had Miss Lydia been quite ruined while he was yet uncertain of his regard, it might well have sent him running for London, never to return.
“I wish Lydia might take an example from your sister, as Kitty has done,” she was saying as these thoughts ran through his mind. “You and your cousin have brought up an excellent young lady.”
“Much of the credit must go to my aunt, Lady Matlock, and to Georgiana herself. In essentials I believe she is much like your elder sister. And now it is for me to compliment a sister of yours, by pointing out that Georgiana seems to be learning a bit of welcome liveliness from Miss Kitty.”
Miss Elizabeth glanced down the table to where Georgiana and the sister in question had their heads bent close together, speaking softly of some matter which made them both smile.
“Kitty is a good sort of girl,” she said fondly.
“I wish I had troubled myself to understand her years ago. Jane and I have been close all my life, and I never paid much attention to my younger sisters, though I ought to have done.”
The regret in her expression touched him. “It is not by any means too late,” he offered. “I have been almost as a father to Georgiana these five years, and only recently have we become more brother and sister once again.”
“True. Mary will leave us soon, but we may write, and Kitty and Lydia will remain at home for some time yet.”
They might, but it is my fondest hope you shall not, he thought. Their conversation was interrupted by the servants moving about to serve the second course. When their plates were filled and their glasses refreshed, he asked, “Are you looking forward to the assembly on Twelfth Night?”
“Oh, yes,” she replied, smiling. “It is the best assembly of the year. Musicians are brought in from St Albans, and greater care will be taken with the refreshments.”
“Would you do me the honour of reserving the first for me?”
Her surprise was evident, but so was her pleasure. “I should be delighted, sir, thank you.”
His heart beat an almost painful tattoo against his ribs as he revealed his interest beyond all doubt.
“And might I be so bold as to request the last, also?” She could hardly refuse his first request; to do so would have rendered her unable to accept any others, but a second dance could be refused without penalty.
To decline this set was, in effect, to decline his attentions.
She blushed, her gaze flicking away bashfully for an instant before returning to meet his own once more. “People will talk,” she murmured.
“Let them.”
He had thought he knew the many expressions of Miss Elizabeth Bennet by now, but she revealed a new one: a slow, secretive little smile which spoke of pleasure and anticipation. “The last set is yours.”
Whilst many of those in attendance who were not dancing gawped and even pointed their fingers at the entrance of Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet into the line of the final set for their second dance together, one pair of observers regarded them with satisfaction and approbation.
“Has your cousin at last come to his senses?” Miss Lucas asked of her companion.
“Rather say he has taken leave of them,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied humorously. “Else he should still be prosing on about fortune and connexions. His sensibility is doing him a better turn than his sense ever did, in this case.”
“He seems very pleased with his partner,” she agreed, chuckling. “As does she, with him.”
“As am I with mine,” he replied, offering her his arm and relishing the gentle weight of her hand when she accepted. He began to lead her upon a circuit of the room.
“Have you had an enjoyable evening?” she enquired.