2
Four Days at Pemberley…
D arcy smiled warmly at Elizabeth’s aunt, who was seated beside him on a couch in the music room listening to Mrs Hurst perform a complicated piece by Haydn on Georgiana’s Broadwood grand. Mrs Gardiner’s elegant manners and intelligent conversation went a long way towards soothing the agitation he felt in the face of Miss Bingley’s rudeness at his dinner table. He had known Miss Bingley for many years and had long considered her a friend, despite her penchant for sometimes treating those she considered beneath her with disdain. Bingley had once confided it was insecurity that made her do it; Darcy tended to believe it was jealousy. Whatever it was, her behaviour that evening was beyond the pale, and it was Elizabeth who had suffered the brunt of it.
Mrs Hurst’s performance soon came to an end, and a smattering of polite applause filled the room. Across from him, Mr Hurst lay sprawled like a well-fed cat across a settee upholstered in pale yellow silk. Darcy pursed his lips disapprovingly. Bingley’s relations had begun to grate on his nerves. He had invited the Gardiners to Pemberley because he genuinely enjoyed their society; the Hursts came part and parcel with Bingley, as did Miss Bingley and her platitudes and her pettiness and her lofty aspirations to never leave. Discouraging her interest in him had failed. Ignoring her had served him ill. Inviting Elizabeth into his home had made her jealousy flare from a spark to a conflagration.
Darcy felt a little thrill each time he thought of Elizabeth Bennet residing at Pemberley. She had been there for half a week. Presently, she was sitting beside his sister a short distance away, smiling and speaking quietly to her about music.
Suddenly, Georgiana’s gaze, which had been trained on her lap, shifted to Elizabeth. “Oh no,” she said, seemingly horrified. “I could not possibly…not in front of all of these people.”
Elizabeth reached for her hand. “I absolutely insist,” she said, giving Georgiana an encouraging smile. “Miss Bingley has sung your praises for so long I do not know how I can possibly continue spending another day in this house without hearing you myself. Come, else I shall enlist your brother to add his entreaties to mine. As you have already admitted you can deny him nothing, it seems a hopeless business. You had much better play.”
Darcy had not expected his sister to give way, but after Elizabeth made another round of petitions, Georgiana emitted an incredulous little laugh and allowed herself to be tugged to her feet and led to the pianoforte. Once there, they examined sheet music together and Elizabeth did her best to make her new friend smile. Her efforts yielded success. After several minutes Georgiana appeared at ease.
Eventually, Elizabeth presented her with a piece of music that met with her approval, and Georgiana, after a slight hesitation, straightened her shoulders, seated herself at the instrument, and began to play Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 9.
Through the entire composition, Elizabeth remained by Georgiana’s side, turning her pages and making her smile, diverting her attention from her rapt audience.
Darcy felt his heart swell with affection. He was proud of his sister, but his eyes were drawn to Elizabeth again and again. He had loved her for so long, but never so much as he did in that moment. Her inherent sweetness and her natural ability to put others at ease had been instrumental in coaxing Georgiana out of her shell, enough so to allow his shy sister to set aside her inhibitions and ignore her insecurities to play for their friends. Until tonight, Georgiana had declined doing so and professed a desire to hear her guests play instead, particularly Miss Bingley, who was ever eager to oblige.
“How ill-mannered Eliza Bennet is this evening.”
Darcy was startled to hear Miss Bingley’s voice, just behind him and to his left. He glanced at Mrs Gardiner, who was presently in conversation with Bingley on Darcy’s right. Fortunately, she appeared not to have overheard the insult Miss Bingley had made about her niece.
Having elicited no reply, Miss Bingley continued in the same vein. “Why, she practically forced poor Miss Darcy to play! It was quite shocking to watch.”
Darcy clenched his jaw in annoyance.
Behind him, he heard Mrs Hurst sigh. “Miss Darcy,” she replied pleasantly, “plays so beautifully, especially for one so young. It is a shame her shyness hinders her playing for her friends.”
“Oh, I quite agree,” Miss Bingley allowed, “but that is hardly my point, Louisa. My point?—”
“I know very well what your point is, Caroline,” said Mrs Hurst, “and it is ill-advised to carry it. No one here wishes to hear your opinions. This…situation is beyond your reach. You must accept it.”
Miss Bingley made an inarticulate sound, but before she could utter another word on the subject, Mrs Hurst said quietly but firmly, “Enough. Your chatter is distracting from my enjoyment of Miss Darcy’s exquisite playing. You know how I adore Mozart.”
Miss Bingley said nothing in response. Instead, Darcy watched as she marched across the room and out the door.
He was relieved to see her go and gratified to discover a possible ally in Mrs Hurst. Lord knows Bingley did nothing to silence his sister’s tongue or discourage her interest. For the past four days the man had ignored her completely as he waxed poetic with Elizabeth about the handful of weeks that he had spent in Hertfordshire last autumn. He was full of recollections and recounted them all, especially those that pertained to Elizabeth and her sisters. His doing so only served to incite Miss Bingley’s ire.
Darcy shifted his position on the couch as he directed his attention to Elizabeth. The fact that he had not had an opportunity to speak to her for any length of time since her arrival made him feel impatient and peevish. She was either spending time with Georgiana, indulging Bingley, or accompanying her aunt on calls to their friends in Lambton. He shifted again, wishing it was not so late so that he might invite her to take a turn in the garden or on the terrace just outside the music room.
He had not expected her to look at him then, but look at him she did as she lifted her eyes from the page that she had just turned for his sister. Even from such a distance, her eyes captivated him. Darcy thought of all the things he wanted to say to her, and one particular question he ached to ask.
He knew Elizabeth no longer disliked him as she once had, but to what extent her opinion of him had improved he had yet to ascertain. He supposed it had likely improved significantly; she was presently in his house and had agreed to be his guest until her aunt and uncle decided to return to London.
Darcy wanted so badly to go to her.
Would she welcome him if he did?
The Chippendale clock in the hall chimed eleven times, signalling the conclusion of their evening was fast approaching. The music ended, and a fresh smattering of applause filled the room. Georgiana smiled as she rose from her place at the Broadwood and clasped Elizabeth’s hand.
Elizabeth praised her performance with a sincerity that warmed Darcy’s heart and made Georgiana blush. Then she took a moment to admire the instrument, gently pressing the keys of the higher octaves with the hint of a smile playing upon her lips. “It is a wonderful instrument,” she said. “You are fortunate to have such a generous elder brother. The pianoforte at Longbourn is sadly lacking compared to this one. I believe, Miss Darcy, that you and your brother have spoilt me!”
Georgiana reassured her she could play it any time she liked, then asked Elizabeth if she would consent to play. “One last song before we all retire. I know my brother would especially enjoy hearing you.”
For the second time that night, Elizabeth met Darcy’s eyes from across the room. The corners of her lips lifted and she smiled.
Darcy felt a flush of warmth, knowing her smile was meant for him and no one else. He returned it and watched her take a seat on the bench. Beside him, Mrs Gardiner was telling Bingley about Miss Jane Bennet’s enjoyment of the seaside. Bingley appeared enthralled. Though he doubted either would notice his absence, Darcy excused himself in any case and crossed the room.
“Pray allow me the honour of begging a seat beside you, Miss Bennet, so that I may be of assistance to you.”
Elizabeth smiled at him, and Darcy’s heart skipped a beat. “You are welcome to sit beside me, Mr Darcy,” she said blithely, “but as to your being of assistance, I cannot say.” She turned towards Georgiana and addressed her. “Tell me, Miss Darcy, is your brother a proficient reader of music? Miss Bingley failed to mention page turning when she recited her very long list of Mr Darcy’s accomplishments in Hertfordshire.”
“My brother,” said Georgiana with mock seriousness, “is an excellent page turner, so long as you inform him as to when he must turn each page.”
“Oh dear,” said Elizabeth, her eyes dancing with mirth. “That is hardly an endorsement, sir! You are likely to hinder far more than you will help. But I suppose we shall make do.” She took a moment to rifle through some discarded sheets of music and soon made her selection. It was neither a sonata nor a concerto, but a lullaby. Glancing at Darcy, Elizabeth placed her fingers on the keys and began to play.
Darcy claimed his place beside her, but he spent far more time admiring her than he did looking at the sheet music. It did not matter. Elizabeth did not spare it so much as a single glance.
She knew the piece by heart.
Surely, she must know his heart…