Darcy was horrified when he realized Bingley’s misunderstanding. Recovering himself, he quickly clarified. “Bingley! Miss Lydia was the sister who died.” His voice was slow, deliberate and clear.
Bingley felt numb to a world where Jane Bennet did not exist and did not hear his friend. He loved her still, and he had subsisted these many months with the knowledge that, even though she did not return his love, at least she was alive and well. He could wish her well. But now she was gone. He felt broken all over again. How was he to live through it? Oh, Jane!
Darcy sat next to his friend and placed his hands on his shoulders, shaking him from his daze. Bingley had obviously not heard his last words. He shook him roughly until he made eye contact. “Bingley, it was Miss Lydia, not Miss Bennet!”
Slowly, recognition returned. Bingley whispered, “Not Jane.” He sat up and turned to his friend, repeating louder, “Not Jane!” before falling back onto the seat. He rubbed his face vigorously and began in his relief to laugh, though it sounded closer to sobs.
Darcy, too, sat back on the sofa next to his friend. As Bingley’s expressed relief buoyed his own spirits, Darcy’s guilt intensified.
Coming to his senses, Bingley realized his joy and relief were inappropriate given that one sister had died. He was then acutely aware that his Jane and Miss Elizabeth must have surely been suffering from the loss of their sister. He turned to his friend and said, “I must pay my condolences to Miss Elizabeth!”
Darcy panicked. Until he could ascertain Miss Bennet’s affections, he still did not think it was a good idea to press the acquaintance. Having seen his friend struggle through heartbreak, panic, anger and dread in one afternoon, he knew this was the right course. “I am afraid that is not possible, Bingley. She is resting now, and we depart tomorrow morning for Hertfordshire. Perhaps, you might write the Bennet family a note, and I will deliver it for you.” It was the least he could allow under the circumstances.
Bingley eyed his friend. “I suppose you are right. Please convey my sincere condolences to Miss Elizabeth, and I will send a note later today for you to deliver to Longbourn.”
“Certainly, Bingley.”
The gentlemen stood, and Darcy walked his friend to the front door. When the door closed behind Bingley, Darcy sighed heavily. He thought that, if Jane did return Bingley’s regard, he would have much to confess. He hoped he would be forgiven.
* * *
Still a bit mortified from the morning’s events with Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth decided to have a tray brought to her sitting room for supper. She was not sure she could encounter him again with any degree of composure. She asked Mrs. Carroll whether Miss Lucas might wish to dine with her. Soon the girl was at her door, and another tray was brought in. Together they spoke in hushed tones as they dined alone.
After supper, Maria returned to her chambers, and Elizabeth found comfort in being alone with her thoughts. She indulged in a few tears as she stared blankly out the window. As the hour grew late, she decided to risk leaving her room. This time she knew where the library was. She prayed that she would not encounter Mr. Darcy there as she walked quietly through the corridors of the house.
The soft sounds of the piano drew her to the door of the music room instead. The music was melodious and pleasing. Elizabeth quietly peeked inside the room to discover Miss Darcy playing the pianoforte to an audience of one. Mr. Darcy was sitting with his back to the door. Elizabeth was fascinated by the scene. It was the most beautiful rendering of that particular sonata she had ever heard. Miss Darcy was in every way as talented as portrayed. For a moment, Elizabeth leaned against the entryway and closed her eyes to listen.
When the final cords of the song no longer resonated in the air, Elizabeth opened her eyes and was surprised to feel her cheeks wet with tears. She wiped at them and looked into the room again. She froze as she watched Mr. Darcy stand, walk towards his sister, and place a kiss on her cheek. He whispered something tenderly into her ear and exited through a door behind the piano. The gesture was so sweet that Elizabeth had to wipe her eyes again. She was grateful that he had exited another way and had not come upon her. Another soothing piece of music began. She saw that Miss Darcy was in an almost trance-like state with the music. Elizabeth tiptoed into the room and took a seat at the back where she might not be noticed.
She had closed her eyes again and was enjoying the soothing melody when she realized the music had stopped; she heard a quiet gasp. Opening her eyes, she saw Miss Darcy covering her mouth and staring at her.
Elizabeth quickly stood and apologized for disturbing her performance. She bowed her head in embarrassment, and when Miss Darcy did not say anything, she chanced a look at the girl. It would appear Miss Darcy was nearly as embarrassed as she was!
Elizabeth walked closer to the instrument and said gently, “I hope you do not mind that I intruded upon you. The music was so beautiful, and I could not very well help myself.” She smiled kindly at the girl.
Miss Darcy returned a weak smile and, without lifting her eyes off the keys, said, “You are perfectly welcome, Miss Bennet. I was merely surprised to see you.”
Elizabeth moved a bit closer. “May I ask the name of that piece?”
Miss Darcy kept her eyes down still but answered, “It was Beethoven’s N. 28, Miss Bennet.”
Touched by Miss Darcy’s obvious shyness and natural modesty, Elizabeth stepped yet closer. “It was very lovely. You play beautifully.”
“Thank you.” Miss Darcy demurred then raised her eyes for the first time towards Elizabeth.
Elizabeth walked around to the side of the piano and said, “May I see?”
When Miss Darcy nodded, Elizabeth surprised her by taking a seat next to her on the bench to look at the sheet music and then again when she began speaking of the music and asking after her favorite parts. Elizabeth was pleased to see that soon Miss Darcy seemed more at ease and their conversation came more readily. She liked Miss Darcy very much and ventured a brief thought for the complete mischaracterization that Mr. Wickham had described. For someone who is so intimately acquainted with the family, he ought to have known her better, she mused.
Miss Darcy gave Elizabeth a heartfelt smile and a look of compassion. “Miss Bennet, I am sorry to hear about your sister. It is difficult to lose a loved one.”
Elizabeth could see what effort it took for Miss Darcy to put forth such a sentiment and reached for her hand to give it a little squeeze. “I appreciate your words, Miss Darcy. It has been very difficult.”
She was astonished to hear the young lady continue. “If you would like to speak of her, I will listen.”
When Elizabeth did not say anything for a moment, merely out of surprise and gratitude for the tender offer, Miss Darcy hastened to add, “Forgive me for my presumption. I know it can be helpful sometimes . . . When my father died . . . ” Her voice broke off uneasily at her own lack of decorum. Apologizing again, she attempted to stand and leave the room.
Elizabeth reached for her hand and forestalled her quick departure. It still hurt too much to speak of Lydia, but she could see her silence had given Miss Darcy the impression that she had said the wrong thing. She was not sure what prompted her, but she said, “Please, Miss Darcy, if you are still willing, I think speaking of Lydia might be helpful.”
As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. What am I to say? I do not want to say anything. But Miss Darcy sighed in relief as she resumed her seat at the piano. It made Elizabeth smile. Elizabeth found that she did not know where to begin; indeed, she did not want to begin at all.
“Why do you not tell me what Miss Lydia was like?”
What started as a stilted recital of her sister’s likes and dislikes, general appearance and habits turned slowly into a tender narration of a few favorite memories. Before Elizabeth realized it, she was speaking freely of her sister and animatedly recalling past experiences. Miss Darcy sat silently, never speaking a word, though Elizabeth knew her to be listening attentively. One p
oignant memory of a kidnapped bonnet made Elizabeth laugh. She had even sent Lydia a ransom note for the article of clothing. Miss Darcy smiled kindly while she listened, allowing Elizabeth to relive the memory. Elizabeth was embarrassed when her laughter quickly turned to tears.
Miss Darcy pulled out her handkerchief and handed it to Elizabeth as she bravely extended an arm around her shoulder to rub her back. As Elizabeth’s round of grief subsided, she looked up thankfully to Miss Darcy. Attempting a lightheartedness she did not really feel, she said, “You Darcys must have a vast number of handkerchiefs.”
Miss Darcy’s bemused expression made Elizabeth chuckle. “Thank you for listening, Miss Darcy. I believe it was helpful.” Elizabeth was surprised that she did feel better. She smiled again at Miss Darcy.
“It was nothing, Miss Bennet.”
“After all I have related to you this evening, I believe ‘Miss Bennet’ sounds a bit too severe. Would you mind very much using my Christian name?”
Miss Darcy smiled a wide, generous smile that struck Elizabeth as similar to the one her brother rarely displayed. It rendered her as beautiful as it did him handsome.
“I would like that, Elizabeth, if you will call me Georgiana.”
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Georgiana.”
Both girls giggled. Georgiana was gratified to have found a friend in the poised, lovely Miss Bennet. And Elizabeth was amazed to feel such a strong connection with Mr. Darcy’s sister: the last girl in the world she ever could have expected to befriend! Georgiana, after much gentle persuasion, agreed to resume the Beethoven piece.
After it was finished, Georgiana asked, “Elizabeth, will you not play for me?”
“I am not sure that my performance would give you much pleasure, Georgiana. I play little and very poorly.”
Georgiana looked astounded and exclaimed, “That cannot be true, for my brother has often said to me that you play so well.”
Laughing and shaking her head, Elizabeth quipped, “Then he has perjured himself most abominably. I do not play well at all.”
“I cannot believe that, Elizabeth, for my brother never exaggerates.” When she saw that Elizabeth was still finding her assertions comical and responded only with a skeptically raised eyebrow, she went on to further state, “Elizabeth, he has told me many times that he has rarely heard anything that gave him more pleasure.”
The serious tone in her voice made Elizabeth blush uncomfortably at the compliment — and its source. Mr. Darcy could not have spoken so of me. It was vain of her, she knew, but somehow hearing herself praised by Mr. Darcy seemed to make her think, perhaps, she did not hate him so very much after all. I simply dislike him, she thought resolutely. Almost as soon as she had decided that dislike was what she felt, her heart rudely reminded her brain of all the kindness he had bestowed on her those last days, of all the compassion and understanding, and most traitorously indeed, of the beguiling way he looked in his shirtsleeves sans cravat that morning. Perhaps, I do not ‘dislike’ him per say, she thought. Perhaps, I am merely indifferent. That is it; I do not like or dislike the man.
She was thankful, then, when her mind reasserted itself in the matter and reminded her of his actions towards Jane and Bingley and, of course, Mr. Wickham. She could remain angry with him for Jane’s sake, but oddly enough, she began to wonder whether her beloved sister was correct in assuming there might be a misunderstanding about the latter. No, I am safer with dislike for now.
She was summoned from her reverie by Georgiana’s insistence. “Will you then play for me, Elizabeth?”
Thankful for the distraction, Elizabeth readily agreed and played a simple piece she knew by heart. Georgiana was profuse with her praise, and Elizabeth laughed humbly at her friend’s enthusiasm over her mediocre performance. They played a few duets together, and the hour grew quite late, so Elizabeth felt she should retire.
She thanked her new friend for the lovely evening and stood to go. A movement caught her eye at the door, and she turned, only to see the doorway empty.
“Good night, Georgiana. It has been a pleasure and a blessing to spend the evening with you.”
“Indeed, Elizabeth, good night.”
Elizabeth turned down the corridor towards her room just as a figure disappeared around another corner. She recognized his shape immediately.
Chapter 5
Impatient to be in the bosom of her family and on the road to Longbourn, Elizabeth waited for Miss Lucas as she descended the stairs of Darcy House. She woke earlier than necessary, determined to be off as soon as possible. Her heavy heart longed to be amongst loved ones, and she hurried her toilette, making her ready for departure a full half-hour before Miss Lucas and even Mr. Darcy. That gentleman had joined her in the vestibule just moments before, and apart from the briefest of civilities, she avoided his gaze. Elizabeth sighed with relief as Miss Lucas’s arrival signaled their journey could begin at last.
After the embarrassing experience the day before, Elizabeth was grateful Mr. Darcy opted to ride on horseback alongside the carriage. It would have been a torment to spend the entire journey opposite his handsome face. Added to that was the confusing phenomenon of finding herself longing for his comforting embrace, a complication she need not consider as she neared her home.
After handing Maria into the carriage, Mr. Darcy turned to assist Elizabeth when his actions were interrupted at the sound of Georgiana calling from the entrance. The young lady rushed down the steps and pressed a letter into Elizabeth’s gloved hand before giving her an enthusiastic hug.
Elizabeth gasped as Georgiana’s sudden affection seemed to expel the air from her lungs. Chuckling, she returned the embrace and smiled warmly at her new friend even as her eyes began to glisten at the thoughtful gesture.
“I have been hurrying myself in the hope of not missing you. Will you do me the honor of reading that letter?”
“Of course.” She pulled her friend aside and squeezed the young girl’s hand. “I had hoped to have the chance to thank you again for your kindness last night. You are a dear girl.”
With adoration, Georgiana said, “I hope that I can count you a friend, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth was touched and yet looked swiftly to her brother standing near the carriage. Should he not approve of her acquaintance with his sister, he need only tell her. When Darcy’s eyes met hers, she turned back to his sister quickly. “Of course you may call me friend. I already consider you one.”
After effusive good-byes, she could already see Mr. Darcy was displeased with her sudden familiarity with his sister, noting his stony countenance as he assisted her into the equipage.
She would be surprised to know he was far from feeling displeasure at seeing his sister and the woman he loved display such open affection for each other. The scene had thrown his emotions into such disarray that he was barely able to command his hand merely to assist Elizabeth into the carriage and not bring it to his lips to kiss it affectionately and repeatedly.
Earlier that morning he thought Elizabeth and Miss Lucas might prefer the privacy of the carriage and arranged to ride alongside on horseback. After that remarkable farewell, he decided a ride might be good for him as well. And so it was that, for the majority of the next three hours, Mr. Darcy attempted to regulate his feelings. He was beginning to think three months would be a terribly long time to wait to declare himself. His task was not an easy one given what he witnessed both that morning and the previous evening.
While he had enjoyed listening to his sister play one of his favorite pieces on the piano, he sensed Elizabeth. He dismissed the feeling, having spent much of the evening meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman — as his wife — could bestow, even imagining her next to him as Georgiana played. It was a happy fantasy and one that surprised him at how authentic it could feel. When Darcy opened his eyes and looked around the room as Georgiana neared the end of the song, to his utter enchantment, he spied Elizabet
h in the doorway of the room with her eyes closed and her cheeks shiny. Hoping to avoid the embarrassment of having discovered her thus, he schemed that he would exit the room only to return again a few minutes later. Then it might appear as if he were simply rejoining his sister.
Whispering his praise to Georgiana and promising to return shortly after attending to some business, he purposely left the music room from another door. As he exited, his butler handed him Bingley’s letter. How fortuitous that he had intercepted its delivery to the music room.
Now riding next to the carriage, Darcy swallowed and pulled at his neck cloth as he noticed that Elizabeth had removed her gloves and bonnet due to the unseasonably warm spring day. Her hair was in a thick plait that ran nearly the entire length of her back. He could see she was in the process of re-pinning the braid in a simple coiffure at the base of her neck. He found the vision too intoxicating, and he urged his mount forward a pace ahead of the carriage.
Forcing his thoughts down more gentlemanly avenues, he recalled returning to the music room the night before. By design, he appeared at the same door at which he first saw her, judging that if she had not yet entered the room he would encounter her there and invite her to join them. If she had entered, it could make his own entrance less abrupt. But as he reached the doorway, he had watched in stunned appeal as Elizabeth and his sister spoke comfortably with each other. In the end, he had not intruded on their interlude and had left to assure that his valet would be ready for their early departure the next morning.
Later that evening, when he was on his way to his study to retrieve a book, he had been surprised to hear music as he had assumed the ladies had retired long before. Expecting only Georgiana, perhaps still waiting for his return, he had walked right into the room. Discovering that neither lady had retired but were instead engaged in a rather silly duet, he backed to the edge of the doorway and left again soon after the piece was over. He made his way slowly to his study, thinking that the day could not have gone better and then hastily regretting his tactlessness as he remembered the loss of her sister.
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