Page 26 of The Happiness of a Most Beloved Sister (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

D arcy observed with some mild trepidation as Bingley rapped the knocker of number twelve Gracechurch Street.

Elizabeth was within, and although she had granted permission for him to call upon her in the future, he could not know for certain whether she had only allowed it out of politeness or genuine interest in seeing him again.

He would find out imminently, and his heart raced as he pondered the various possibilities.

The door was answered by a butler, to Darcy’s surprise. Apparently, Mr Gardiner’s business did very well, even though he lived within view of his warehouses. They were invited inside and bid to wait in the vestibule while the servant informed the household of their arrival.

Anxiously, Darcy blurted, “This is a fine house.”

To which Bingley distractedly replied, “Mm.”

It was only a handful of awkward minutes before the butler reappeared and announced that the ladies were all awaiting them in the parlour. Bingley immediately followed the fellow deeper into the house, Darcy hard upon his heels and attempting to quell the writhing sensation in his stomach.

Upon entering the specified room, Darcy immediately sought out Elizabeth.

When his gaze landed upon her, his breath caught and his heart stuttered.

She was smiling at him—grinning, really—and he could not remember her ever exuding so much warmth as she was now.

Perhaps it was the way the mid-morning sunlight caressed her hair as she stood directly in its beam, or maybe he was simply starved for a look at her, but either way he needed no more encouragement to go to her.

His feet took him to her side almost of their own volition.

He bowed to Elizabeth first, bending over her hand with a breathless murmur of he knew not what, and had risen to stare at her lovely face again before recalling that there were others in the room with them.

Indeed, he might not have remembered at all had Elizabeth herself not said, “Allow me to introduce you to my aunt.”

Darcy turned to the lady she indicated, who studied him with interest. Mrs Gardiner was a well-looking woman, a few years older than himself, and she was dressed fashionably.

Her manner was all ease and friendliness, and she exhibited none of the vulgarity he had expected from a tradesman’s wife.

He was inclined to like her, and not only for Elizabeth’s sake.

In contrast to her sister and aunt, Miss Bennet was coolly reserved in her greeting, dipping him the shallowest possible curtsey before resuming her seat at the far end of the room.

Bingley followed her thither like an eager puppy and sat beside her, basking in whatever attention she deigned to give him—which seemed paltry, in Darcy’s estimation.

He was no more convinced than before that Miss Bennet cared for his friend, even though she tolerated his attentions.

Still, that was for Bingley to decide for himself; Darcy had washed his hands of their business. He had his own prospects to see to.

Turning back to Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner, he was determined to make himself agreeable to them, though he knew not exactly how.

Fortunately, his hostess hit upon a topic he could speak on at length.

“I do not know whether Elizabeth has mentioned it, but I passed my youth in Lambton. My father, Mr Burns, was rector there for some years.”

“Why, that is not five miles from Pemberley!”

Mrs Gardiner’s lips quirked as if charmed by his small outburst. “Indeed, it is. I have not been there myself, but Pemberley is well regarded by my Derbyshire acquaintance. I have heard that the grounds are lovely.”

“From what Mr Darcy has told me, I suspect ‘lovely’ does not adequately describe them,” said Elizabeth, causing his chest to swell with pride.

They then fell into a discussion on the merits of Pemberley and its environs.

Darcy lamentably did not recall Mrs Gardiner’s father—who she reported had retired more than ten years back—but then his family only rarely attended services in Lambton, preferring their own private chapel on the sabbath.

Elizabeth was full of minute enquiries regarding Derbyshire’s natural beauties, appearing especially intrigued by the stream that swelled into greater importance as a lake before the main house.

He did his best to satisfy her curiosity, though of course he insisted she must someday see it for herself, inciting a promising blush.

They carried on in this manner for several minutes until Mrs Gardiner was called away by the nurse. She was wanted by one of her children and excused herself to see to the matter with a polite apology.

When she was gone, their discourse on Derbyshire seemed to expire instantly.

A short silence descended between them, and he cursed himself for being so tongue-tied around her.

They had conversed with ease in Kent, but he had never been proficient at flirting.

Elizabeth, generally more talkative, appeared rather bashful, which he hoped was a good sign that she was beginning to consider him as more than merely her friend.

At length, he hit upon a simple query to put to her. “Where is Miss Lucas? Does she remain in Hunsford with her sister?”

“No, she and Sir William left from here on Saturday, as had been the original plan. Jane and I are to remain with our aunt and uncle a little longer.”

“I see. Do you know…ahem, how long do you intend to stay?”

Eyes darting to where Miss Bennet sat with Bingley, Elizabeth replied, “Our plans are not yet fixed, but perhaps for several weeks.”

“Ah.” An awkward pause. “In that case, I do hope that our paths might cross while you reside in town. Or that you will allow me to call again.”

Elizabeth dipped her head, and for a moment, Darcy was inclined to panic, but then she lifted it to meet his gaze. Her eyes were somehow brighter as she said, “I should like that very much.”

“Then it is settled,” he said, his voice unaccountably lower in pitch. “We might even arrange an excursion, if your relations approve. There are many amusements we might choose from—museums, shopping, and the like. The entire city is at your disposal, madam.”

“Lamentably, most of the usual town activities are wasted on me. A country girl such as myself is always happiest out of doors this time of year where I can freely admire the blooming trees and twittering birds.”

“I might have known.” He chuckled. “That being the case, what say you to an airing tomorrow? We might walk in Hyde Park if the weather is fair.”

Although Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, it was Bingley’s voice that responded. “Why, that is a capital idea, Darcy.”

Although Bingley’s cheerful demeanour often saved him from his friend’s ire in similar circumstances, Darcy struggled to quell the annoyance that threatened to overcome his countenance at this untimely interruption.

Adding to his discontent, Bingley then turned to his nearest companion to seek her opinion of the scheme. “What do you say, Miss Bennet?”

The lady nodded, her usual placid smile firmly in place. Even so, Darcy thought he detected a hint of irritation in its frozen quality. Yes, well, the feeling is mutual. “It sounds delightful, though I am not as much in the habit of walking as my sister is. Perhaps we ought to ride instead.”

Knowing that Elizabeth did not care to ride, as her supposedly dearest sister would also be aware, Darcy’s jaw tightened.

She thought to take control of the excursion, did she?

Well, he would not allow it. “Riding in Hyde Park is not suggested for those without a great deal of practice,” he said pointedly, allowing his gaze to dart to where a downcast Elizabeth sat beside him. “I think it might be better to drive.”

“Then it is settled,” declared Bingley, unaware of the slight narrowing of Miss Bennet’s eyes in Darcy’s direction. “We shall be round in our curricles at, say, ten o’clock?”

With no other reasonable objections to be had, their scheme was set, and all they required was the permission of the Gardiners to undertake it.

This was speedily given upon the return of Mrs Gardiner, who further invited them to dine.

This, sadly, was not in Darcy’s power to accept, having promised his evening to his Matlock relations.

As he had not seen any of them save for his cousin Fitzwilliam in a twelvemonth, it would be discourteous to cancel.

Bingley was at liberty after first attending to a few errands, the lucky clod, and veritably bounced with enthusiasm at the prospect.

With that, their call drew to a necessary close; Darcy and Bingley had already sat with the Bennet sisters for three quarters of an hour, and any longer would have been improper without an engagement in place.

Darcy was ready and willing to attach himself to Elizabeth, and every indication suggested that Bingley was eager to leg-shackle himself to Miss Bennet likewise, but it was much too soon.

Lamentably, therefore, they departed—though not before Darcy allowed himself the privilege of lingering over Elizabeth’s hand and whispering a fond farewell. “Until tomorrow, Miss Elizabeth.”

Her reply was soft, almost intimate, and if he were not mistaken contained a note of longing. “Until then.”

He at last released her, though not without palpable lament. She, too, appeared similarly affected and only withdrew her hand at the last possible moment. He could not but feel elated even as he regretted their separation.