She was quiet for another moment. “Like Penelope, I feel someone has been lost to me, that I have been waiting for one who I belong to.” He felt a fissure run through him. “I wonder at times, if he may be right before me, but I do not recognize him.”
“As did Penelope?”
“Yes. As did Penelope.”
He leaned toward her in his chair, cutting the distance separating them. “Odysseus’s devotion was powerful,” hewhispered, his deep baritone encircling them. “His love never ceased. Through all his trials, he carried onward to Ithaca.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice a trembling whisper.
His eyes held hers, and the room was thick with an unspoken avowal before the intensity of his voice made her breath catch. “I promise you. It would not have taken me twenty years to return…”
“Lizzy?”
Both Darcy and Elizabeth started at Mrs. Collin’s voice from the doorway.
Elizabeth stood at once and straightened her gown. “I was just retiring for the evening. Did you forget something?”
Jane looked from Elizabeth to Darcy. “No. Only you. Come to bed, Lizzy. Goodnight, Mr. Fitzroy.”
“Goodnight, Mrs. Collins.” He bowed as Elizabeth left the room, and her elder sister glanced at Darcy before following her sister up the stairs.
Day 6
Such an odd collection of persons.Elizabeth studied the assembled group at Rosings the following night with amusement. She took pleasure in follies, and this grouping from the parsonage and Rosings Park gave her much fodder for diversion.
Her amusement turned to dismay at seeing Mr. Gafton leering at her and then Georgiana, and she determined to not leave her present company. Truth be told, the presence of Mr. Bingley also gave her pause. There was no logical explanation for his inclusion in this party, considering his history with Mr. Wickham.
Mr. Bingley joined Mr. Fitzroy standing by the window and began a quiet conversation.
“How uncomfortable Mr. Bingley looks,” Jane said, breaking into Elizabeth’s thoughts.
Drawing her head closer to her sister’s, Elizabeth whispered, “I agree. We can only pray he can one day find a woman with your goodness to help him through situations such as these.”
“You should try for him, Lizzy. He is such a good gentleman-like man. I hate to see him alone.”
“Oh no, dearest. He’s not the one for me.”
As if to remind them of the man Jane had married, his sycophantic voice could be heard across the room, scraping at the hem of Miss de Bourgh.If he were only a rational creature… If only our father had put money aside and not relied so much upon having a son… Maybe then, my dear sister could have…
Yet how my dear Jane endures, I know not. I could not imagine looking upon him as my husband.Still, Elizabeth was duty bound to remind Jane of their covenants, especially with the handsome and charming Mr. Bingley in the room.“That you honor your husband is a testament to your goodness.”
Jane was quiet and then: “Yes.”
Dining with Mr. Collins and his barnyard table manners was enough to put anyone off their appetite—inconceivable to imagine any romantic encounters.What horrors Jane must endure!
Elizabeth recalled herself when the butler announced dinner. As if in slow motion, Mr. Wickham walked toward her and held out his arm. “Georgiana, I will take Miss Bennet in. Bingley shall take you.”
Georgiana’s lips formed a tight line. Composing himself, he turned a pleasant smile to Georgiana. “May I?” he asked, extending his hand to her, but stealing a glance at Jane.
Her hesitation was slight. “Yes, I thank you.” Georgiana placed her hand on Mr. Bingley’s arm.
They began to depart the room when a rusty voice from the chaise snarled. “You ignore me in my own home, Wickham? I do not know what you are about, but it is obvious that once again, money and marriage do not make a gentleman. You will always be the son of a steward, no matter what airs you give yourself. You will wait until the mistress of the house precedes you!” Turning to the men, she held up her hand. “Mr. Collins, you and Mrs. Wickham. Mr. Gafton, you and Miss Bennet. Mr. Bingley, you and Mrs. Collins, and Wickham, you will escort Anne.”
She scanned the room, her eyes resting on Mr. Fitzroy before she spoke again. “Darcy, you will lend me your arm.”
Mr. Fitzroy and Georgiana startled at the name.
“Mama, once again, this is not Uncle Darcy. He is Mr. Fitzroy,” Miss de Bourgh said with an edge to her voice.
