The last couple of months certainly had been a trial. After more than a fortnight spent at Longbourn for Lydia’s wedding, Elizabeth had returned to London, hoping to put the entire affair behind her. Her aunt had told her about Mr. Darcy’s visit, and despite the nagging concern for her reputation in the wake of Lydia’s recklessness, Elizabeth still hoped he would once again call at Gracechurch Street. She could not help but think that if she could see him, and talk to him, she would know if his feelings remained unchanged.
But it had now been four weeks since her sister’s wedding, and almost two months since she had last seen Mr. Darcy. Of course, she could not be certain the gentleman was aware of her return to Town, but she knew he corresponded with Mr. Bingley, so she had to assume he was informed. Which meant he had likely also been made aware of her sister’s marriage—as well as the circumstances preceding it.
Fastening the last comb in her dark curls, Elizabeth stepped into her gown. Despite her low spirits, she was looking forward to her evening at the theater. Although she had seen several productions during her stay, tonight was special. They had been invited to a performance given by a celebrated soprano passing through London on a tour of the continent. Tickets were in high demand but her uncle had been invited to share the private box of one of his business associates. It seemed the man had been recently widowed and had planned to attend the event alone. When Mr. Gardiner mentioned his niece’s keen interest in the performance, the gentleman had been quick to invite them to join him.
Gazing pensively at her reflection, Elizabeth’s thoughts returned to Mr. Darcy. She didn’t know precisely when things had begun to shift, but it had been many weeks since her feelings for him had gone from dislike, to tolerance, to… a feeling she scarcely dared name. And the thought of Lydia’s near ruin casting a pall on their blossoming friendship filled her with the deepest regret.
After all of their progress, she simply could not bear the notion that Mr. Darcy was out there somewhere thinking ill of her.
***
Darcy stood with his chin tipped upwards as his man made the final adjustments to his cravat. Reaching for a brush, the valet ran an expert hand over his master’s jacket, but after only a moment, Darcy waved him away with a flick of his wrist.
“Pierce, that is enough fussing. It is merely a night at the theater, I am not being presented at court.”
His valet stiffened, casting his eyes to the floor and Darcy felt his shoulders slump.
“Forgive me, Pierce. You have outdone yourself, as always. I am simply in a bad humor this evening.”
His valet nodded and Darcy smothered a sigh. In truth, he had been in a foul mood these past six weeks, ever since his visit to Gracechurch Street when he had learned of Elizabeth’s departure. Darcy’s gaze drifted to the writing desk in the corner of his chambers where Bingley’s latest letter sat. When he had received it several days ago, he had impatiently broken the seal, scanning his friend’s unruly scrawl for Elizabeth’s name. When his eyes had at last lit upon the name Bennet, he had practically ceased breathing; but it had only been one sentence notifying him of the marriage of Elizabeth’s youngest sister to someone in the local militia.
“Will there be anything else, sir?”
Blinking at his valet, Darcy shook his head. “No, that will be all. And you need not wait up. I shall see you in the morning.”
Exiting his apartment, Darcy stepped into the corridor. It was still early. He would look in on his sister before he departed.
Finding the door to her chambers ajar, Darcy knocked lightly before entering. Inside the spacious chamber, Georgiana rested on a chaise near the window, while Mrs. Annesley sat beside the fire, her knitting needles rhythmically clicking, a ball of wool resting in her lap. At the sound of his footfalls, Georgiana lifted her gaze, smiling in his direction. “William! Are you leaving already?”
Moving across the room, Darcy pressed a soft kiss to his sister’s forehead. “Yes, dearest. I thought I might walk to Matlock House since the weather is so unseasonably warm. The physician has said I should be exercising my leg and there is no point in taking two carriages when there are so few of us going.” He paused for a moment. “Are you certain you would not prefer me to stay? Truly, I would not mind.”
“Oh, no! I would feel terrible if you missed the performance on my account. And I know Lord and Lady Matlock and our cousins are looking forward to your company.”
Darcy frowned, tugging on his cuffs. “Well, if you are certain…”
In truth, he would much rather be here, sitting quietly with his sister, perhaps reading to her or playing something on the pianoforte in her private sitting room. It concerned him greatly that Georgiana was once again indisposed. Although she had eventually rallied from her previous malady, he did not like the fact that she still seemed drawn and tired.
Walking over to the window, Darcy stared down into the street. As he had done many times before, he found himself reflecting bitterly on the fact that Georgiana was forced to come into adulthood without a mother or a sister to guide her. What good was he, or his cousin Richard for that matter, when it came to understanding the needs of a young girl approaching womanhood? As usual, his thoughts turned to Elizabeth. If only she had accepted him, they would now be happily married and Georgiana would have an elder sister to turn to. Frowning, he studied his reflection in the darkened glass. Well, it was not to be. Elizabeth was gone, and he and his sister would simply have to rely upon Mrs. Annesley to advise them. Perhaps if things did not improve, he would consult Lady Matlock.
Remembering his aunt, Darcy withdrew his pocket watch. If he was going, he had best get started. His uncle never liked to be kept waiting.
***
Mr. Gardiner’s carriage pulled to the curb and Elizabeth’s uncle stepped down, turning to hand the ladies to the pavement. They were still a good distance from the theater, but the knot of carriages at the entrance made it impossible for their coachman to get any closer.
“I am afraid we shall have to walk the last stretch,” Mr. Gardiner apologized, taking his wife on one arm and his niece on the other.
Elizabeth’s face flushed with excitement as she took in the throngs of people milling about in their evening finery. “It is no bother, Uncle. It is a lovely night.”
Her aunt smiled, clearly pleased with her niece’s enthusiasm, and the small party set out. Joining the mass of theatergoers, they climbed the handful of steps and entered the ornate lobby. Mr. Gardiner surveyed the crowd in an attempt to locate their host.
“It may be impossible to observe one another in this mob, but we shall have a look around. In any case, Mr. Whiting has given me the direction to his box so it is of no great significance if we are not successful in finding him here.”
Mrs. Gardiner nodded and the threesome began slowly making their way to the stairs.
***
Darcy stepped beneath the portico of the Theatre Royal, his gaze fixed upon his uncle’s back. Lady Margaret kept pace at his side, her fingers resting lightly on Darcy’s sleeve. Arriving at Matlock House earlier that evening, he had been informed that their party had diminished by one more member as his cousin Lord Hazelton, Lord and Lady Matlock’s eldest son, had developed a headache and did not feel up to accompanying them—leaving Darcy to escort Hazelton’s wife. Not that Darcy minded. Lady Margaret was pleasant enough. Certainly she was beautiful, with a quick wit that reminded him a bit of Elizabeth’s. The daughter of a marquess, Lady Margaret possessed flawless manners and always comported herself with the utmost decorum. Yes, his cousin had done well for himself. And although Darcy would have preferred his sister’s company, having a companion on his arm would at least cut down on the number of unmarried ladies vying for his attention.
Entering the crowded lobby, Darcy’s spine automatically stiffened. Damnation! It looked like the whole of London society was here for this evening’s performance. And now that he was to escort Lady Margaret, he would not be able to depart early as he had p
reviously intended. Out of the corner of his eye he felt the stares of those around him, and his skin tingled as their salacious whispers floated in the air.
Lady Matlock turned to say something to her daughter-in-law, before allowing her husband to guide her across the lobby to greet some of their acquaintances. At the slight pressure on his arm, Darcy turned to face the woman by his side.
“There is no need to look so miserable, you know,” Lady Margaret whispered. “I would be happy to accompany you to our seats if you would prefer to get out of this crush.”
Abashed, Darcy smiled down at her. “Is it that obvious?” he asked, causing his companion to laugh lightly.
“Yes. You look quite despondent. Come, let us go to the box. Lord and Lady Matlock will know where to find us.”
***
Elizabeth trailed behind her aunt and uncle, craning her neck to get a better look at the other ladies in their elegant gowns and jewels. But they had not gone more than a few paces when Mrs. Gardiner stopped short, causing Elizabeth to bump up against her.
“Lizzy, isn’t that Mr. Darcy? There, across the lobby…”
Elizabeth felt her pulse quicken as she hurriedly scanned the crowd. It did not take long to spot the gentleman who stood several inches taller than those around him, and her heart leapt at the sight. His dark head was bent slightly as he conversed with someone beside him and Elizabeth’s gaze traveled downward. The woman at Mr. Darcy’s elbow was possibly a few years older than herself, and exceptionally beautiful. Her copper colored hair was twisted into an elaborate knot showcasing a glittering tiara, and her gown was a brilliant sapphire blue, a perfect match to the jewels resting against her alabaster skin. As Elizabeth watched, she leaned up and said something that made Darcy’s mouth lift into a smile. The woman laughed at whatever he said to her in return and Darcy placed a hand on the small of her back. And in one fluid movement, the couple headed for the stairs.
***
Darcy began walking in the direction of the grand staircase when the sense of someone’s gaze upon his person made him turn. Immediately, his steps faltered and his breath froze inside his chest. Elizabeth! She was standing halfway across the crowded lobby beside her aunt and a slightly older gentleman who Darcy took to be her uncle. His gaze swept her form and his insides quivered. My God, she was breathtaking! Their eyes locked and he saw a flash of recognition before Elizabeth looked away. Carried by the crowd, their parties drifted closer together, and Darcy attempted to adjust his expression—it would not do to meet her relations looking like a lovesick schoolboy.
They were within steps of one another when Darcy stopped, executing a deep bow.
“Miss Bennet, this is a pleasant surprise. I did not realize you were back in Town.”
“Yes. I returned some weeks ago,” Elizabeth answered before turning to her uncle and performing the necessary introductions.
“A pleasure, sir,” Mr. Gardiner offered as the two gentlemen exchanged polite bows.
Darcy greeted Mrs. Gardiner warmly before shifting to include Elizabeth and her uncle. “Will you permit me to introduce Lady Margaret Hazelton to your acquaintance? Lady Margaret, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.”
Lady Margaret dropped a graceful curtsy, which Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner returned as Darcy’s gaze swept the crowded entrance hall. “My own aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady Matlock, are also in attendance, but we seem to have been separated by the crowd.” Bringing his attention back to Lady Margaret, he added, “Miss Bennet and I met in Hertfordshire when I was visiting my friend Bingley last year. He is now married to Miss Bennet’s eldest sister.”
Lady Margaret offered her congratulations, and Darcy turned to address Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet, I understand your youngest sister is also lately married. I hope you will allow me to wish you joy?”
To Darcy’s surprise, Elizabeth’s cheeks colored and she briefly looked away.
“Yes, I thank you, sir,” she murmured.
Darcy stepped forward, his brow furrowed, but Elizabeth’s gaze remained firmly fixed somewhere over his right shoulder. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner exchanged a glance.
There was a moment of awkward silence before Lady Margaret spoke. “Will you be in Town long, Miss Bennet?”
To Darcy’s great relief, Elizabeth turned to face his cousin.
“I have no set schedule, your ladyship, but I will likely remain until the spring.”
Mrs. Gardiner touched her husband’s arm. “Edward, perhaps we should find our seats,” she said softly and the gentleman nodded his agreement.
The group prepared to part, but after a slight hesitation, Darcy turned to address Elizabeth’s uncle. “Mr. Gardiner, it would be my pleasure to have you join us in my box. My own party is reduced in number as my sister and cousin were unable to attend.”
Mr. Gardiner’s brow lifted in obvious surprise. “That is very kind of you, Mr. Darcy—”
“—but we could not possibly accept,” Elizabeth finished. All eyes swiveled in her direction, and Elizabeth flushed. “That is, there is a fourth member of our party, sir, and we would not wish to crowd you.”
Mr. Gardiner regarded Elizabeth for a moment before continuing amicably. “I am afraid my niece is correct. But I do thank you for your generous offer. Perhaps another time.”
“Of course.” Darcy bowed. “Enjoy the performance,” he answered stiffly before the two parties went their separate ways.
***
Darcy was not enjoying the performance. Although his gaze was fixed on the stage below, he would have been at a loss to describe a single detail that had occurred since the curtain lifted. Shuffling in his seat, his eyes swept the dimly lit theater, but he could not locate Elizabeth’s party. His lips pressed together as he recollected the conversation in the lobby. After everything they had been through together he did not expect Elizabeth to be ill at ease in his presence. Perhaps he had misinterpreted her behavior… No, it was as if she could not wait to get away from him! His thoughts returned to the last thing she had said before they had left to take their seats. A fourth member of their party. It could mean only one thing.
As soon as the curtain came down at the beginning of the interval, Darcy was on his feet. “May I bring you ladies some refreshment?” he asked, turning to his aunt and Lady Margaret.
Lord Matlock’s brows lifted in surprise. “Well, this makes a change. I have never known you to willingly brave the throng if you could avoid it, Nephew.”
Darcy flushed. “Yes, well… I feel the need to stretch my legs after sitting so long.”
His uncle nodded and the two gentlemen made their way down the sweeping staircase, stopping every few feet to greet various members of the ton. Darcy cringed as one particularly effusive matron thrust her young daughter in his direction so forcefully, the girl practically tumbled to the landing. By the time Darcy and his uncle reached the lounge, Darcy remembered in great detail why he never left his box until the conclusion of the performance.
Nodding to an acquaintance from his club, Darcy’s eyes scanned the heavy crowd. Much as he hated every moment of this, it would all be worth it for another chance to speak with Elizabeth. Finally, his perseverance was rewarded when he spotted the familiar figure of her uncle standing near the refreshments conversing with a younger gentleman. Darcy’s gaze narrowed as he studied the stranger. Though not particularly handsome, the man was well groomed and seemed affable, with a ready smile. Darcy’s fists clenched as he continued to scour the room to no avail. Elizabeth must have remained with her aunt in their seats.
Just then, Mr. Gardiner turned, and Darcy spun on his heel.
Conversing with Elizabeth and her family was one thing, but he had no desire to make idle chatter with the competition.
***
Elizabeth’s gaze darted to the entrance to their box. What could be taking so long? She turned back to her aunt, but Mrs. Gardiner was still deep in conversation with Mr. Whiting. Elizabeth
sighed. She should have accompanied her uncle to the lounge as he had suggested. As painful as it would have been to see Mr. Darcy’s beautiful companion, sitting here wondering about her was proving far worse.
Pretending interest in her aunt’s conversation, Elizabeth twisted in her seat. Finally, her forbearance was rewarded when the curtain opened and her uncle entered. But disappointment washed over her as she saw that he was alone. Lowering her lashes, she instantly chastised herself for her foolishness. Of course he was alone! What had she expected, that Mr. Darcy would abandon his companion to pay a social call to her in her box? If she had wished to spend time in his company, she had squandered her opportunity.
Mr. Gardiner stepped forward, offering cups of punch to Elizabeth and her aunt. “Madeline, you will never guess who I ran into while waiting for the refreshments. Do you remember Mr. Clarke? The solicitor I dealt with on that warehouse project last summer?”
“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Gardiner answered, taking a sip of her drink. “He was in practice with a son, I believe, was he not?”
“Yes, exactly. And I have just met the son here in the lounge. A fine young gentleman. Very friendly,” he added, casting a sidelong glance at his niece.
Elizabeth flushed, turning her attention to her lap. The last thing she was in the mood to endure was her uncle attempting to make a match for her with one of his acquaintances. “Did you… did you happen to see Mr. Darcy?” she asked.
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