“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said, stepping forward before the others could, “may I offer my assistance in helping you into the cart?”
Elizabeth’s eyes met his, a flicker of amusement and a blush colouring her cheeks. “Thank you, sir.”
Her gloved fingers were warm in his grasp, and her grip quite firm. He steadied her as she climbed into the cart, all too aware of the way her gaze kept brushing against his. The proximity sent a jolt of pain through his head, making it throb more intensely. The dizziness followed quickly, a disorienting wave that he tried to attribute to her nearness, but deep down, he knew better.
This was not appropriate. She was interesting, certainly, but “interesting” was not among the qualifications he required in a woman to whom he paid notice. Elizabeth Bennet could never be a suitable bride for him, and never had he stooped to cultivate interest in any female who could not meet that measure… which was no one, so far.
Until now, he had never thought of Elizabeth Bennet as even a true lady in the traditional sense. She was just a curious memory of a strange girl he met inHertfordshire. But being this close to her again, he realised with a jolt that hehadbeen thinking of her, and far too much.
And now he understood why.
He was fascinated by her, and that was not a good thing. His head throbbed again, reminding him sharply of his precarious health and the uncertainties that loomed over his future. With deliberate effort, he cooled his manner, his expression becoming distant as he released her hand.
Her face changed instantly in response, the warmth fading into a polite mask. Good heavens, had he already been so obvious that she had been blooming under his approving gaze, so much so that when he withdrew it, she froze?
“Thank you, Mr Darcy,” she said, her voice measured and formal.
He blinked for a second, then inclined his head in a reserved nod before stepping back to stand beside Bingley. The effort sent a sharp pain through his temple, and he fought to keep his expression neutral as he struggled to suppress a wince.
“We were just returning from an errand of our own,” Wickham explained. “I shall see that Mr Bennet is returned to his carriage and set on his way home before the afternoon grows too late. I hope we shall be in company again soon.”
“Oh, but we shall be!” Bingley reminded him.
“Indeed, my friend is right,” Wickham gestured as if he had entirely forgot. “I was delighted this morning when Mr Bennet brought a dinner invitation from Mrs Bennet, and I am pleased to inform you that we shall all be dining at Longbourn in two days’ time.”
Elizabeth and her sister exchanged glances. “Papa, you said nothing of this,” Elizabeth said, her voice carrying a note of curiosity.
Mr Bennet, who had remained seated with an air of indifference, glanced up from his musings. “What was I to say? Your mother insisted upon it, and I saw no reason to refuse. We shall have all your sisters in attendance, of course.”
“It sounds delightful,” she said warmly. “We shall look forward to seeing you. Shall we not, Papa?”
Another heavy sigh. “Yes, yes. We shall be delighted, Mr Wickham,” Mr Bennet responded with a resigned wave of his hand.
“It is settled then,” Wickham declared. “Friday evening, it is.”
With the pleasantries exchanged, the parties began to part ways. Darcy frowned as he returned to the carriage and sat beside Mr Bennet, who was, by all appearances, alreadydozing. Either the man really was the most indolent fellow alive, or he had contrived a means to avoid conversation when the mood was upon him.
Not an… entirely… poor scheme. Perhaps one Darcy ought to contemplate, for this fascination with Elizabeth Bennet could only lead him down a path he was not prepared to tread.
Chapter Fourteen
“Mr Wickham seems quitepopular with everyone,” Jane murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as the door to Longbourn opened, revealing Mr Wickham and his party from Netherfield. “I think Papa even likes him.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I believe he does. It will be interesting to see how our guest manages—” she cleared her throat softly, glancing over at Lydia and Kitty, who were trading giggles, “—everyone’scompany tonight.”
Mrs Bennet fluttered about near the door, her cheeks flushed and her voice a touch too loud as she greeted the gentlemen. “Oh, Mr Wickham, how delightful to see you! And what a charming party you have brought!”
Mr Bennet stood beside her, his expression one of mild disinterest as he offered a polite nod to each guest. Elizabeth and her sisters stood back a little, watching the guests enter and waiting their turn to offer their greetings.
Lydia covered her mouth and almost… not quite… concealed a squeal. “Mr Wickham brought a pineapple! Such a lavish gift!”
Elizabeth glanced at Mr Wickham, who was presenting the exotic fruit to her mother with a charming smile. “He certainly knows how to make an impression.”
Mrs Bennet accepted the gift with awe, gasping in pleasure and calling for Mrs Hill to bring a tray to display it properly. “Oh, Mr Wickham, how generous of you! Wherever did you find such a thing?”
Wickham’s smile widened. “It is but a small token, Mrs Bennet, to show my appreciation for your kind invitation.”
Elizabeth pivoted her attention to Mr Darcy. The slight curl of disapproval in his lips caught her eye. His gaze swept over the room, lingering on Mrs Bennet’s overzealous excitement and Lydia’s giggles, then lightly flicking over herself before settling into that familiar mask of detached politeness.
