“I shall have a replacement sent to you as soon as it can be arranged,” Miss Elizabeth offered, wringing her hands in front of her. “Remy is a bird dog, but I have never known him to damage anything. He is far too gentle.”
“He would never kill a bird, but a bird that is already dead is fair game!” clamored Hurst, smacking Bingley on the back and renewing their laughter.
The maid began collecting the feathers as quickly as she could, all the while insisting that she had closed thedoor behind her before taking her meal in the kitchen. “You must have left it open! How else would this ingrate get in?” Miss Bingley shrilled.
Archie sat in front of the door, eyes half closed, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
Unwilling to witness a maid lose her place over a misunderstanding, Darcy nodded at the satisfied dog. “There is your culprit.”
Miss Bingley looked furiously at Archie and then turned on her brother. “I never want to see your stupid dog again! Either you get rid of him or I shall leave and return to London!”
Hurst clapped Bingley on the back again, “I would keep the dog if it did not mean that she would go to my house in London!”
Miss Elizabeth slipped inside the room, intending to help the maid clean the mess.
Miss Bingley addressed her, her voice shaking. “Do not touch my things! You have done quite enough already.”
Grabbing Remy by the collar, Miss Elizabeth tugged him out of the bedchamber and down the hall to Miss Bennet’s room. She immediately decided that they would depart for Longbourn that same afternoon.
CHAPTER 19
Elizabeth closed the door and leaned against it. What had she done? She knew the answer: she had exposed herself to inquiry and Miss Bingley’s ire! And for what? To satisfy her own pride!
She ought to have allowed Miss Bingley’s superiority to become inflated at the imposter’s own peril. Time always revealed the truth. But Elizabeth’s vanity had made her impatient, and she had sought to even the balance. Due to her lack of self-control, her secret was not as safe as it had been before that stupid challenge.
Thank goodness Archie and Remy had interrupted when they did!
Jane softly chastised Remy for mangling Miss Bingley’s stuffed bird before she switched to justifying him for acting as nature demanded. Besides, the bird was already dead. What kind of lady thought it fashionableto adorn herself with dead birds? It was atrocious, she concluded, and Remy had gallantly spared her from a terribly cruelfaux pas.
Hastening over to Jane’s side and determined to do nothing else to draw attention to herself, Elizabeth helped her sister pack their trunk. They did not need to discuss her intention to depart to agree that they must go. They had little to pack and would be ready to leave as soon as the carriage was brought around. Elizabeth tucked her sketchbook inside her reticule.
The sketch! Where had it gone? Mrs. Hurst had been holding it until Mr. Bingley took it from her. Mr. Darcy had studied it for a long time, but had he taken the paper from Mr. Bingley? Elizabeth tried to remember, but she had been too full of pride to notice until Miss Bingley started asking questions and Elizabeth realized her folly.
An image of Mr. Darcy sitting at the writing desk, his brow tense with concern, his eyes full of sadness and hurt as he gazed at his letter… The expression had been too intimate and revealed too much. Elizabeth did not need to know what Colonel Fitzwilliam’s news was to be certain that it troubled Mr. Darcy greatly. She had not wished to commemorate his pain, so she had drawn him as she preferred to remember him—as he had been after she had caught him bathing her muddy mongrel, all kindness and boyish playfulness.
A bold, vain hope seized her. What if Mr. Darcy had it? She had seen his shock and then his smile. He hadliked it. Had he understood its meaning? Had it made him remember the moment that inspired the drawing?
Leaving Remy in Jane’s care, she looked in the drawing room while the footmen carried their trunk to the entrance hall. Her sketch was gone.Drat.
The damage had already been done, but she did not wish for the drawing to be shown to anyone who had not already seen it. Perhaps Miss Bingley had snatched it, in which case it had already been tossed into the fire.
Or maybe Mr. Darcy had kept it…
The stiff paperof Miss Elizabeth’s sketch rubbed against Darcy’s pocket as he returned downstairs. Everyone except Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had gathered in the entrance hall to send off the Misses Bennet. The Bennet sisters appeared surprised to have such a friendly send-off after their dog’s destruction, but Bingley was quick to reassure them that Archie was most certainly the mastermind behind the incident.
The rain had calmed since Darcy had found Miss Elizabeth out of doors, but the butler still handed over two umbrellas for the gentlemen to hold over the ladies. Bingley took one, and before Richard could take the other, Darcy grabbed it.
Bingley handed Miss Bennet into the coach, uttering the niceties that flowed so smoothly from his tongue and which were received with amiability equal to his own.
Darcy was wholly conscious of the pressure of Miss Elizabeth’s hand on his arm and disturbingly aware of the moment she removed it so he could hand her into the conveyance. This was a dangerous game. He hardly knew Miss Elizabeth, though he believed she knew a great deal about him. She saw everything, and she remembered?things he would rather hide. That she had chosen to draw him happy when he had been sorely troubled was a kindness he appreciated.
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
He met her glance, and his soul caught on fire. When she released his hand and sat back against the dark interior of the carriage, he stood frozen in place, thoroughly shaken. He turned and walked inside the house without looking back, even though his every sense was aware of her departure and the crunch of the carriage wheels on the gravel as it started down the drive.
Georgiana waved from the top of the steps under the portico, a ray of sunshine on this dreary day. Not since before last summer had she appeared so cheerful, and Darcy knew he must credit Miss Elizabeth with this favorable change.
He went to his sister’s side, only then turning toward the departing carriage. Together, they watched as it disappeared down the lane. She wrapped her fingers around his arm in the same way she had when she was much younger. It was so nice, Darcy dared not move lest she realize what she had done. He held hercloser, wishing this moment could last forever and hating that he would have to ruin it.
