Page 64 of Count the Cost (The Secrets of Elizabeth Bennet #2)
D arcy had not wanted to come to Bingley’s wedding.
Meryton and Netherfield held too many memories.
Of her . The crimson gown, their irreverent conversation over supper at the assembly, the talk of his sister feeling special, the set-down she gave Miss Bingley, and the question about transporting horses to the Peninsula.
The shawls. Elizabeth, acting Beatrice with verve, joy, and confidence.
Then he recalled her deceit, her prevarications and obfuscations, too. She had not trusted him, and how could he live with that?
He remembered it all, and memories were all he had.
Bingley could not expect him to be at the wedding.
But Bingley did not know. Darcy had not, and would never, mention how he felt, and Bingley had been a good friend.
Reluctantly, he had replied to the letter, accepting the duty. I do wish he had asked Hurst.
He must be prepared to see her, but he comforted himself with the fact that she would be in a group of people. He would not have to engage with her. If he could stay away from her.
Mr. Maunder could not, with all his skill, restore Darcy to look as he had before the last weeks, but he did well with what he had. Darcy was upright, properly turned out, and neatly shaved.
His one concession to Elizabeth was a specially commissioned spinel stickpin for his cravat.
He had sent to every jeweller in England, it seemed, until he found what he wanted.
The nearest thing to the crimson of her gown he could find.
Even the rubies he would have preferred were not quite the right colour.
This spinel was large and looked very well, and he comforted himself that even the Black Prince’s ‘ruby’ in the Crown Jewels at the Tower was, as Mr. Rundell had told him, a spinel.
Mr. Rundell would know — his firm were appointed Jewellers to the Regent.
So, he had been driven to Netherfield the day before in a state of grim determination, his mind, as always, on Elizabeth. Elizabeth.
But here she was, not only here, but Miss Bennet’s bride attendant. He had tried to prepare himself that she would be so from the moment he saw that Mrs. Bennet had entered the church with her three other daughters, but the reality still made his legs weak as water.
He could barely see her behind her sister and father as they processed up the aisle towards him, but he caught her gaze when she first saw him, utterly shocked as he had been.
But then … her composure slipped. He was certain he saw yearning and deep sorrow in that instant, but then it flickered and a mask replaced her expression, which, in just that instant had made hope flare within him.
He could hardly bear it when she tore her gaze away.
But he must not make things difficult for her, and he removed his own gaze and looked up at the great stained glass window above the altar, and waited, attempting to get himself under better regulation. For her.
Throughout the ceremony, Darcy struggled to maintain a stoic composure.
But his whole body knew of her proximity, of the repressed love that he could not show.
Each time his disobedient gaze went to her, he recalled that instant of longing in her eyes, and hope flared.
She must feel something if she looked like that!
As he gave the appearance of listening to the vicar’s homily, he wondered. Back at Oakfield, did she really reject me, or was her distrust really a deep fear and not me?
As he glanced at her, each time he could note something of her.
The new Mrs. Bingley’s gown was certainly from Gardiners, and must be one of Miss Elizabeth’s range.
The deep cobalt blue of the embroidery on the paler ribbon was unique, but then, so was the deep, deep gold of the stitching on the ribbon of Elizabeth’s.
It was distinctive and eye-catching on the lighter gold ribbon and the paler cream colour of her silk gown, which changed shade in the shifting light as she moved.
It was stunning. She was stunning. How could he continue to live without her?
Too soon, the ceremony was over, and he followed the newly-wed couple into the vestry, behind Miss Elizabeth — no, she would be known as Miss Bennet now — and the scent of lavender that was forever hers in his mind.
It was his task to escort the bride’s attendant as they followed the new Mr. and Mrs. Bingley down the aisle as well as at the wedding breakfast. He swallowed, it might be one of the hardest things he ever had to do. He offered her his arm.
He could sense her deep unease, and stiffened slightly. But she accepted the offer, the touch of her sending a flame up his arm even through the layers of fabric that were her glove, his tailcoat and his shirt.
He could do this, but he must keep his distance, it might be the only way to keep his composure. But she leaned slightly closer.
“Mr. Darcy … I thank you for being here. Mr. Bingley will be glad you stood with him, and that will mean a great deal to my sister. I know it cannot be easy.” But then she straightened and increased the distance between them to make it easier for him.
He was grateful for that; perhaps it made it easier for her, too. He thought that he had heard the tiniest quiver in her voice, and, maybe it was merely his hope, but he thought there was a little warmth, too.
At the wedding breakfast, she stayed by his side, a delicious torment that he would not break himself. Then Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were approaching them.
Miss Bennet — Elizabeth — straightened. “Mr. Darcy, may I introduce you to my aunt and uncle?”
He smiled down at her. “Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner are already known to me, Miss Bennet. Do you recall we were introduced at the theatre when you attended with Lady Palmer?”
She looked adorably flustered. “Oh. Oh yes, I had quite forgotten.”
Mr. Gardiner raised his eyebrows and seemed amused. “I understand weddings do that to ladies.”
“Oh, Edward!” Mrs Gardiner remonstrated lightly, but there was a little frown of concern between her eyebrows, and she reached for her niece’s hand. “We will let you gentlemen talk for a few moments,” and she led Miss Bennet away.
It was probably for the best, but Darcy missed her warmth by his side.
His hope was that she would return soon, and he gave himself a wry smile. What has happened to my determination to stay away from her?
But he must concentrate on her uncle’s conversations and they spoke about fishing, the wider Bennet family and other such concerns. He would never intimate that he had divined Elizabeth’s secret, not even to those whom he knew were also aware of it.
He was fortunate; she was not away from him for long, and she approached him again, where he had stayed beside her uncle in the hope that might encourage her return.
Then she was smiling at him — still wary, but with a little more ease than at first — “Ought we to go and give our best wishes to Mr. and Mrs. Bingley?”
He nodded and could not help smiling down at her. Might she have warmed towards him a little? Forgiven him his anger when he confronted her?
As they congratulated Bingley and his new wife, Darcy felt a pang of longing.
Elizabeth may be warmer towards him, but could he ever gain her trust enough for marriage?
He clung to what Lady Palmer had said to him at the house party, that she was very young and despite saying she did not want to marry, she may yet change her mind.
Had he seen enough evidence that Elizabeth may have forgiven him for discovering her secret, for confronting her, for showing his anger?
Then, as the guests all gathered to wave off the Bingleys, his Elizabeth leaned closer. “Can you see? Papa is wearing dark doeskin gloves.”
His gaze shot to Mr. Bennet. He was waving with all the guests, and yes, Elizabeth had been right to decide to use the colour. The gloves were very distinctive.
And she had voluntarily made that comment to him, accepting that he knew. He leaned closer. “Have I hope there are some left to purchase at Gardiner’s?”
She smiled. “Gentlemen do not attend my Collection, sir. You will have to send your sister with her aunt.” There was a slight mischief to her eyes. “You do know the prices are — extortionate?”
He winced. “Are you berating me, madam?”
She shook her head. “No, I am sorry, I could not resist the tease.” She glanced down. “I see what size gloves you take. I will send a pair over. From Gardiners.”
“You do not need …”
“Enough of that talk here, sir. I would not wish to be overheard.”
Later that night, as he lay in bed at Netherfield, Maunder snoring behind the screen, he tried to maintain some caution although his heart was alight with hope for the first time since he had been to Oakfield.
He wished the house wasn’t being closed up the next day. But with Bingley gone on his wedding trip, the Hursts were returning to town, and Netherfield wouldn’t be available to him.
But of course! He berated himself. Miss Bennet didn’t live at Longbourn. She now lived at Oakfield.
But she had not really absolved him of his offence against her, had she? He hoarded the moments of his day.
When she had first seen him, surely that was sorrow and longing in her eyes, however briefly?
Then she had accepted his arm to escort her. But she would know that was expected. Although she had thanked him for attending, and even acknowledged that she knew it would not be easy for him.
So thoughtful of her. Could he have hope? She had stayed by his side, and returned, too, when she had had to leave briefly. And she had remarked on the gloves, knowing they both shared the secret.
Hope flared within him. If there is even a chance that she does not hate me for confronting her, for discovering her secret, and for accusing her of distrust, then I cannot, can never, let her go.