Page 28 of Requirements for Love (Love in London with Mr Darcy #3)
His sister would receive callers this Monday morning, and there was absolutely no reason for Darcy to be here when they arrived.
Some might be her genuine friends, but if he was in the room, the ladies who were not would centre their attention on him.
The stares of single girls’ mothers would burn into his flesh, and simpering women who wanted to win him would trap him in his own drawing room.
While coming down the first flight of stairs on his way out, Darcy stopped short as Georgiana and Mrs Annesley supported Elizabeth between them.
“See, I asked for help,” she said to him as they helped her to her room.
They settled her into a chair and parted from her, with Georgiana saying, “I will knock on your door the moment I am no longer at home.”
He lingered in Elizabeth’s doorway, wondering if he should speak or not. They had not talked alone since he spoke of her family’s faults, and not at all since dinner last night with the Gardiners. “You chose not to join Georgiana?” he asked tentatively.
She gestured for him to come in. “It would not be right for me to force myself onto all of her acquaintance. Georgiana was eager for my company, but Mrs Annesley knew it would not be fair to her friends.” She lowered her voice.
“It is good for her courage to greet her callers without a talkative person like me to carry the conversation.”
She was a wonderful friend to his sister, and he admired her all the more.
This was what friendship, and friendship only, with Elizabeth would feel like.
Admiring her day in and day out and all the while knowing she did not love him in return.
Forcing himself to meet her spirits, he said, “You just do not want to meet Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst.”
Elizabeth checked her laugh. “I would never say that. But I am sure they will be glad I am not in the room.”
“Speaking of them, I saw Bingley this morning when a group of us rode in the park. He has…” How could he say this politely?
“He has clarified to his sisters that any friend of his must deserve their respect and notice.” If he were a betting man, he would wager that Bingley would propose to Miss Bennet before the week was out.
She understood him, and a grin threatened to burst from her lips. “That will be a comfort to anyone fortunate enough to be fond of Mr Bingley and wish for that attachment to deepen.”
Feeling more confident that she did not hate him, he stepped farther into the room. “I understand Bingley is joining the Gardiners and Miss Bennet at the opera. They are to see The Devil to Pay tonight. I expect them to be very much amused.”
Elizabeth pointed to a stack of letters on the side table. “I heard the same. I admit to feeling a little jealous. I am always highly amused with the farce and, in an inferior way, with the pantomime that follows.”
“You must be eager to return to all of your usual amusements. Is the theatre one of them? You said you attend with your aunt and uncle.” She might just be eager to leave his house.
He was unsure if he wanted her to leave because she would only ever see him as a friend or hoped for her to stay longer so he could try to change her mind about him .
“Yes, I am sad to miss it, but I would hate for them to forsake any amusement because I am not there to enjoy it.”
“After you are healed, you must allow me to invite all of you. We will take a private box at Covent Garden.” The box could hold six seats; he could invite Bingley to join them to enjoy more time with Miss Bennet.
Elizabeth looked a little surprised at his civility, and he regretted every selfish thing he said and the prideful way he acted toward her family. “I have never sat in a box; we always sit in the gallery. But you need not if you do not enjoy the opera.”
“I do,” he insisted as he sat across from her. “Ballet, pantomime, Shakespeare, I enjoy it all. Georgiana, for all her love of music, does not share my interest and would rather attend a concert. But I would rather go to the theatre than a rout or a ball.”
“I have not been to Covent Garden since it burned down in the year eight.”
“I like it better now. The interior of the theatre is rather larger than that of the late structure, and is lighted by patent lamps and elegant chandeliers.”
They looked at one another for a long moment. He did not know what to say, and neither did she. How did one act around a woman you were in love with but who, at best, did not hate him? Then she gave an arch smile and asked, “Is an appreciation of the theatre on your list?”
“My list?” he repeated.
Her eyebrow lifted, and then he understood her. She was teasing him about his supposed list of matrimonial requirements. Maybe she did not hate him if she could sport with him, but that was a far cry from preferring him over Captain Peck.
“You are the only one who has put your requirements to paper.”
He regretted everything attending to indulging Georgiana’s matchmaking scheme.
Now Elizabeth had a list of what she required to fall in love with a man, and even if he met every single one of them, he had ruined his own prospects by his arrogant comment.
Now, whatever relationship had grown between them the week she had been here was not only undone, but worse than it had been when he left Hertfordshire.
And for all his endeavours, all this matchmaking and avoiding her, he knew his attachment was impossible to conquer. But now she was affronted—and rightfully so—and had convinced herself that Captain Peck could make her happy.
“You keep your requirements in your head, I am sure. Even if it is a long list, I am certain you have committed it to memory. Is a love of the theatre on it?”
“I will not say,” he managed evenly.
Thankfully, Elizabeth did not press him and changed the subject. “The opera would be a charming time. Thank you for your offer. I should be well enough to climb the theatre stairs in a week or so.”
“Then the first Tuesday or Saturday after your ankle can bear weight, we will go. I will write a note to Mrs Gardiner.”
Elizabeth leant forward a little. “It was kind of you to invite them last night. I could tell everyone enjoyed themselves. I hope you did too.”
The hesitance in her voice shamed him. She was asking if he tolerated her connexions to trade. “Mr Gardiner is well-bred and agreeable, a knowledgeable man I would like to know better. You and Miss Bennet clearly admire Mrs Gardiner.”
“They are both dear to me.”
“I can see why.”
It felt like now there was nothing further to say, and when he made to stand up, she held out a hand.
“You were right about my nearer relations,” she said in a rush, not meeting his eye.
“I remember thinking at the ball that my family must have made an agreement to expose themselves as much as they could during the evening. And there have been many evenings like that one.”
Her sense of embarrassment looked severe. He had always thought how materially the credit of both her and Miss Bennet must be hurt by her family’s improper conduct. But now he realised what a shame that was because both women were lovely and did not deserve any of that censure .
“I still should not have said what I said to my cousin.”
“And I should have been more gracious in allowing you to apologise and in sympathising with your feelings.”
There was a knock, and a footman entered to say his carriage was ready.
“Your carriage?” she asked. “Where do you go today? Fencing? Riding? Gaming? A museum? What is the young man about town doing today?”
He met her teasing smile with a flat look. “I have business today, madam. My life is not all amusements and leisure pursuits and public places. Solicitors and bankers will command my time for the rest of the day.”
He picked his hat off the table and bowed, but when he was at the door, Elizabeth called him back. “I was not honest about my family, and you were right. I should not have called your honesty, your honour, into question.”
“Men of honour sometimes still err egregiously,” Darcy said quietly. “We need not mention it again.”
He had meant it when he said to his cousin that their want of sense was the most damaging thing about aligning himself with the Bennets. But it was folly and ill-breeding to say such a thing, and in a public space, no less. It should never have given him pause in declaring himself.
And now Captain Peck appeared to Elizabeth to be a better match than him.
Hours after Darcy left for the day, Elizabeth sat by herself in the drawing room, having shuffled there with the Viennese walking stick. Georgiana and Mrs Annesley had gone for a quick walk around Berkeley Square after hosting their many afternoon visitors.
She had longed to go with them. Ten days in Darcy’s house had not been dreadful as she had presumed they would be when she fell last Friday, but being confined was tiresome.
She wanted to climb the stairs, walk down the street, chase after her cousins, dance at a ball.
She would never again take for granted being able to move on her own.
A twinge or two, in trying to stand on her foot, disposed her to think that perhaps she ought not to put her full weight on it yet. Still, it would not be much longer. A few more days, and she could at least bear her weight enough to climb into a carriage to return home.
Elizabeth tried to read, but her thoughts returned to Darcy.
He had not been wrong about her family, but all he wanted was her friendship.
He had made that clear last evening when they spoke at the instrument.
The sooner she gave up any girlish hopes of him proclaiming his love, the happier she would be.
There was a noise in the hall that indicated a visitor, and when the door opened, to her great surprise, Captain Peck entered the room.