Elizabeth’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “Your faith in his intentions is greater than my own, Jane.”
Jane’s answering smile was warm. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I simply see in him what you are beginning to see—someone who values you for the extraordinary woman you are.”
Elizabeth tied off the braid and leaned down to place a kiss on the crown of Jane’s head. “You are too kind to me, Jane.”
“Nonsense,” Jane replied. “You deserve every happiness, Lizzy, and I have no doubt you will find it, whether it is with Mr. Darcy or with someone else.” She smiled. “Mr. Bingley has other friends too, you know.”
Elizabeth laughed softly.
When Jane bade her goodnight, Elizabeth removed to her own room. She could not deny that her feelings for Mr. Darcy had grown warmer, but neither could she quiet the fear that she might lose herself to him, only to find him unwilling to do the same.
As the candle sputtered and cast long shadows across the room, Elizabeth resolved to keep her heart safe, even as it began to betray her. She would not allow herself to hope too freely, not until she knew with certainty whether Mr. Darcy’s own heart was hers to claim.
Chapter Seventeen
Elizabeth walked beside Jane—behind her parents and in front of her younger sisters—just as she had each Sunday for as long as she could remember. She took solace in the routine, all her family strolling together to hear the service and Mr. Brown’s short, pithy sermons. But today, she took a few extra breaths and steeled herself for the change that was coming.
Today, Jane’s betrothed would be joining them in the Bennet pew.
Change did not frighten Elizabeth. She hoped she was braver than to mourn the loss of her eldest sister to a man who loved her so well as Mr. Bingley. But Jane’s impending departure still made her melancholy, and it was a struggle, at times, to conceal it.
As they came around a bend in the path, the entire Netherfield party came into view, standing on the other side of the little church-gate. Even Miss Darcy and her companion were there, so Elizabeth thought they must not have been waiting long.
“Good morning to you all,” Mr. Bingley said cheerfully, and offered Jane his arm.
Just like that, Jane was swept away, and Elizabeth was left alone.
But to her surprise, not for long. Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy stepped into the place where Jane had been. Mr. Darcy’s posture was as straight and composed as ever, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable. He seemed entirely indifferent to the jovial mood around him, but as they walked on, Elizabeth noted how he occasionally glanced toward Jane and Mr. Bingley, a faint softness flickering across his features. Was it approval she detected? A glimmer of satisfaction? She was not sure, but the idea that he might now approve what he had seemed to scorn when he first arrived last autumn was strangely satisfying.
Miss Darcy stepped around her brother. “Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. Are you well?”
“I am, Miss Darcy. And you?”
Miss Darcy smiled and nodded. “This is very exciting for me. I have never heard the banns called for someone I know so well as Mr. Bingley.”
As they entered the small chapel, the party filed inside, filling an entire pew. The tiny building, with its simple wooden beams and plain windows, had never seemed so full. Longbourn’s villagers craned their necks to catch glimpses of the Netherfield gentlemen, whispering amongst themselves, and Elizabeth fought the urge to smile at their fascination. Jane was well loved by them all, so it was Mr. Bingley who was under review, little though he appeared to notice. His attentions were all for his Jane.
The service began with the usual prayers and hymns, the familiar cadence of Mr. Brown’s voice lulling the congregation into a comfortable rhythm. But eventually, they reached themoment that Elizabeth had anticipated, and perhaps—just a little—dreaded.
Mr. Brown began to speak.
“I publish the banns of marriage between Charles Michael Bingley of St. Mary’s Parish, Scarborough, and Jane Eleanor Bennet of Longbourn Parish. If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two persons should not be joined together in holy matrimony, ye are to declare it. This is the first time of asking.”
The congregation rustled faintly as the words echoed through the small chapel. Elizabeth kept her gaze forward, her hands folded tightly in her lap, as though by sheer force of will she could restrain the emotions swelling within her.
Jane’s future was assured, but it would take her away from Longbourn, from the mornings they spent together, the tasks they shared, the quiet moments of whispered conversation. At first, Jane would only be a few miles away at Netherfield, but Elizabeth could not believe that they would remain so close forever. The extended Bingley family lived much farther north, and it would not be easy to begin their lives together so close to Mamma. Elizabeth’s chest tightened, and she told herself sternly not to be selfish.
When the final hymn was sung and the service concluded, the villagers gathered to offer their congratulations to Jane and Mr. Bingley, the crowd swelling around them. Elizabeth remained next to the pew, letting others speak their well-wishes as she observed Jane nearly glowing with contentment.
After a minute, as she stood and moved in the direction of the churchyard, seeking a quiet moment to collect herself, she became aware of a presence beside her. She turned her head and was startled to find Mr. Darcy standing there. His expression was unusually gentle.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said softly.
“Mr. Darcy,” she replied, her tone cautious but polite.
He held the door, and they strolled into the churchyard, the hum of voices from the crowd fading as the heavy door slowly shut behind them. It was he who broke the quiet, his voice low and steady. “Your sister appears exceedingly happy.”
Elizabeth nodded, her heart squeezing at the thought. “She is.”
