“I daresay I will be well enough,” she replied, more sharply than she had intended.
He spared her one more glance—this one she could almost call wounded—and the trio said no more until they had gained the dining room. He immediately helped Jane to a seat, then seemed to indicate that he meant for them to sit as they had walked—with him in the centre and Elizabeth on his right. He drew out the chair for Elizabeth, and she glanced nervously at the countess and dowager, already seated at the far end of the table. They were paying her little notice, and she cautiously lowered herself into the coveted seat at William’s side. Scarcely had the fabric of her skirt brushed the chair, however, when she popped up like a spring as Anne de Bourgh entered the room, with Billy trailing behind.
“Yes, yes, I understand it is quite the thing, Miss de Bourgh,” he was saying, his hands animating his words. “The photograph I saw in theDaily Maildepicted a lady of fashion and sophistication, and she was looking over the landscape of Burma through a glass. It struck my fancy, indeed, it did, for I thought if ladies are now free to venture to such a far-flung place, why, what is not within their grasp?”
“Truly, Mr Collins,” she answered, her countenance as serene and unaffected as always. Elizabeth never failed to marvel how a woman of such well-heeled circles and exotic tastes could bear with Billy’s ramblings, but somehow, she endured him with grace—or at least, good manners.
“I’ve a book namedHints to Lady Travellers,” Miss de Bourgh continued, “just published last year, which contains all variety of sound advice and precautions, and I think it indispensable. Perfectly ridiculous that anyone should now say they do not possess the means or—” She broke off and tilted her head curiously when Elizabeth stepped away from the seat beside Mr Darcy.
“Perhaps you would like to sit with your betrothed?” Elizabeth offered. “I can be just as comfortable elsewhere.”
“Ah, you are very kind, Mrs Fitzwilliam,” she agreed airily.
Elizabeth backed away, allowing the other woman a clear path to the seat. For an instant—she could not be sure, because she refused to meet his eyes—but for a second, she could have sworn that Mr Darcy’s expression flashed a hint of dismay. But then, whatever she thought she perceived vanished, and he turned to help Miss de Bourgh. He was perfectly gallant with her, everything a gentleman ought to be with his affianced, so Elizabeth dismissed her scandalous thought as only a hint of rebellious wistfulness.
“Lizzy, you will not believe it,” Billy whispered loudly as she took the seat beside him. “Miss de Bourgh and the countess both complimented me on my moustache!”
Elizabeth cocked a cynical eye at the woolly growth on her cousin’s lip. “I daresay it is darker these few days,” she admitted.
“And thicker. Why, you would never know that I had just—”
Elizabeth nudged him with her foot. “Not now,” she hissed out of the side of her mouth. She lay her hands neatly in her lap and made a beatific smile at the other diners. Mr Darcy’s eyes, with those maddeningly dark and thick lashes, twitched faintly in curiosity, but she did not dare make him any answer.
Billy’s features reddened, and he tried to affect a sober and correct manner, but he could not stop himself from a final, unconscious smoothing of that ridiculous facial hair. Elizabeth would have been mortified over her cousin’s lapse of manners at the earl’s table, but it was far more humiliating to watch Miss de Bourgh, across from her, calling Mr Darcy her “dear.”
Chapter 28
Elizabethcontinuedtosnubhim all evening, and he could make no sense of it. Had she not been pleased to see him? Had she not warmed so prettily whenever he spoke to her or drew near to her? But something had happened between afternoon and evening, and she now seemed nervous, and even displeased to be in his company.
No one else appeared ill at ease. His eye swept the dining room, and later the drawing-room when the gentlemen rejoined the ladies, and he and Elizabeth appeared to be the only persons out of sorts. Had no one noticed? Did no one else see her irregular complexion, her shifting eyes, and fidgeting hands?
He had looked for her immediately when he came into the drawing-room, wondering if perhaps dinner had settled her, but one glance at her dilated eyes and tight jaw warned him off. He accepted the next seat available, beside Anne.
The one consolation was that Georgiana appeared to have had a change of heart about Elizabeth. Perhaps the fact that they were now in each other’s confidence, holding delicate knowledge of one another in trust, had broken down that thorny hedge. Georgiana spoke to Elizabeth more than anyone else as coffee was served, and the two almost appeared friendly towards each other.
“Have you been practising your music, Elizabeth?” he heard Georgiana ask.
“I have,” Elizabeth replied, “but if it is true that practice produces perfection, then I must observe that imperfect repetition produces flawed habits.”
“Oh, that will not do at all,” Georgiana decided. “Are you not using the metronome?”
That produced the first laugh from Elizabeth all evening. “I have enough difficulty imitating a fluent tune without keeping time with that infernal contraption. I constantly feel the need to catch up!”
“Then you must have someone count the measures for you, as I did before. A person can stop for you whenever necessary.”
“I second Georgiana’s advice,” Lady Matlock agreed, making Darcy aware of the fact that he was no longer the only one attending the conversation. “Why, Anne and I would always be ready to sit with you.”
“Not I,” Anne pardoned herself. “Not that I would discourage you, Mrs Fitzwilliam, for no excellence is to be attained without constant practice, but I never learned to play myself and could not possibly count for you.”
“But you have such exquisite taste,” the countess protested. “Had you learned, you would have been without your equal.”
“No doubt it is true,” Anne laughed. “Nevertheless, I am afraid I can be of no help to Mrs Fitzwilliam’s plight.”
Darcy could not help flinching at her tone. It had never bothered him before, her careless and even facetious aplomb that was so much a piece of the society in which she moved. It was only a light-hearted jest, and others understood Anne’s words in the spirit they were intended. Now, though, hearing and seeing her through Elizabeth’s fiercely controlled, yet obviously visceral reactions, all he could see of Anne was an arrogance he found highly inappropriate.
Elizabeth’s lips pulled tight in a forced smile. “It is no matter, for I am afraid I require more instruction than that. I have yet to master the trick of making my right hand perform while my left hand is thinking.”
Georgiana, seated nearest Elizabeth, verily gaped. “It is simple counting, like I said. Do you still find it difficult? Well, the answer is plain. Just master one hand at a time before attempting them together.”
