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E lizabeth was looking forward to dinner that evening. She’d been happy to see both Father and Mr. Darcy in the same room, taking part in the same conversation, even if they had seemed a little cautious in their interactions.

Now they would be dining at the same table, and she was feeling confident that she could keep the conversation easy and flowing.

Perhaps Father would allow her to meet Mr. Darcy sometimes. She wanted time to discover why she could not forget him; why her thoughts constantly returned to him.

She’d rested during the afternoon, and taken extra pains with her hair. Mama had been determined to be a proper hostess this evening, but even the thought of the menu had driven her back upstairs, leaving Elizabeth and Mary to finalise the arrangements.

Elizabeth was rather glad she’d lost the sense of awe around her father, or she might have felt a little overwhelmed. But Jane would arrive with Mr. Bingley and the gentlemen from Netherfield. Jane would help her.

So she was very disappointed to see only her father step down from his coach with the Bingleys.

Where were Mr. Darcy and his cousin? She looked along the lane, thinking they might have come in a separate coach, but the lane remained obstinately empty.

She curtsied to their guests, but couldn’t prevent herself from asking. “Where are Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, Jane? Have they decided not to join us?” She didn’t know whether she was more disappointed or angry with Mr. Darcy. He must know she would wish to see him.

Jane glanced at the duke before answering. “The gentlemen have returned to London, Lizzy. They … er, they only came to call in Mr. Wickham’s debts, after all, and that’s not necessary now, of course.”

Elizabeth’s lips tightened. Had Father sent them away?

“I didn’t tell them to go, Elizabeth. But I did wonder if they felt it would be more comfortable for me if they didn’t stay.” Father’s voice sounded reasonable, although she didn’t feel inclined to be reasonable, and she took her seat silently, trying to contain her disappointment.

Mr. Bingley and Papa kept the conversation from congealing, and eventually Father turned to her, keeping his voice low. “You seem a little out of sorts, Elizabeth. Are the events of the last few days catching up with you?”

She shook her head. “I have to admit being rather disappointed, Father. I am surprised Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam have gone back to town so soon.”

Her father regarded her soberly. “I told him I could not countenance him calling on you, my dear.” His features were tight.

“I understand.” Her head drooped. If she couldn’t see him, she’d never know her feelings. But her father hadn’t finished.

“But I did say to him that I would permit you occasionally to ask him to dine with us in town.”

Her head jerked up. “You did?”

He looked a little shame-faced. “I know I owe him a debt of gratitude for assisting you.”

She knew her eyes flashed, and she could not keep her feelings to herself. “I think it’s more than just that. Think where I’d be now, Father. I couldn’t have fought them all off for long, and I would now be in Scotland.”

“Then you’d be a widow in short order, my daughter!” Father was riled, she knew that, and the hesitation within the general conversation in the rest of the room calmed her. This wasn’t the time or the place, and she put her hand placatingly on his arm, lowering her voice and her temper.

“I know I would. And I’d be very grateful for it. But you know society would still think me spoiled goods by then. A good marriage might then be harder to find.”

He stared at her. Perhaps it hadn’t occurred to him before, but Elizabeth knew very well what Mr. Darcy had saved her from.

“There could have been no good consequences once Mr. Wickham had succeeded in taking me, Father. I am very grateful to Mr. Darcy. But, more than that,” she felt reckless. “I would like to get to know him better, so I can discover if my feelings are real or not.”

“Don’t you know?”

She shook her head a little sadly. “I have not had the opportunity to get to know him well enough.”

Mrs. Hill came into the room to announce dinner, and Elizabeth huffed impatiently.

Papa took Mary upon his arm to lead the party through, and Father smiled tightly at her.

“Let’s leave this for now, Elizabeth. I promise I will take what you have said to heart.” He smiled. “I think we will be better back in town. If we can have a frank conversation, then your dinner invitation can go to him within a few days of returning.”

Elizabeth’s heart leapt. Might it really happen? Could Father give up his stubborn antipathy? Perhaps she could write to Aunt Gardiner — or even call on her.

She leaned towards Father as they walked through to the dining room. “And might I go to see Aunt Gardiner when we get back to town?”

He hesitated, and she wondered at it. “If they are in town, Elizabeth, then of course you may go. But — they may not be in town.”

“They have only ever been away for short tours, Father,” Elizabeth tried to sound reasonable. “Uncle’s business takes much of his attention.”

“Yes, my dear.” Father’s smile looked far too knowing for Elizabeth, and she hung back.

“What do you know?”

Her father shook his head. “Now is not the time. If you can feel able to go back to town with me very soon, then with several hours in the coach where we cannot be overheard, I can explain a number of things to you.”

With some slight pressure of his arm, Elizabeth allowed herself to be escorted into the dining room.

Without her mother and younger sisters there, the meal progressed calmly, and conversation moved smoothly from topic to topic.

But Elizabeth couldn’t concentrate. What did Father know about her aunt and uncle that she did not?

How much freedom would she be allowed to meet with Mr. Darcy without Father’s presence looming over them?

And how could she know her feelings for the man when they might now be coloured with being grateful for what he had done?

The doubts flourished in her mind. She must not forget how much he had looked down on her and her family when he thought she was a simple country miss. Were his affections stirred for her, or for her fortune and station in life?

And, with Father’s antipathy to the Darcy name, did it really matter? She might yet have to find someone else she could love.

The three sisters withdrew after the meal was over to leave the gentlemen to their port, and sat quietly over tea.

Elizabeth was quiet, her mind pondering on all she’d been thinking over dinner. Of one thing she could be certain; if Mr. Darcy was in town, then she wanted to be, too.

“Lizzy?” Jane’s quiet voice drew her attention. “Are you feeling unwell? You’ve been very quiet this evening.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jane. And I’m sorry to you too, Mary. I have a lot to think about, that’s all. Perhaps we could talk of other things. Mary, how has your study with the masters been going? Are you happier at home than you would be at school?”