Tom, the eldest Gilroy child came to talk to Mr Darcy too, and he reported that his mother still kept to her bed. He blamed the hard work in the garden, in the fields, and the nights she spent sewing dresses for extra money.
On their way back towards the Parsonage, Elizabeth and Mr Darcy had time to talk with no interruptions.
“Yes, I know Bingley called on Miss Bennet,” he replied calmly after Elizabeth thanked him heartily. “He sent me a letter too, one in which I could hardly understand anything. Hishandwriting is hardly intelligible, especially when it is driven by emotions. He sounded exceedingly happy.”
“So did my sister.”
“You were right and I was wrong,” he admitted.
“The only thing that matters is that what was wrong is now right. And you, sir, are to be both blamed and praised for that,” she said with a smile.
“May I ask when you will return to London?”
“By the end of the week. My uncle will send his carriage to convey me and Maria Lucas.”
“My cousin and I shall leave a day later. Would you allow me to call on you in London? To be sure you arrived safely?”
“Of course…I would be very happy to see you, sir. Do you know whether Mr Bingley will open Netherfield?”
“It is very likely.”
They walked again for a little while; the Parsonage was now only a short distance away.”
“Miss Bennet…”
“Yes?”
“If Bingley opens Netherfield again, I might visit him. I wonder if my presence would displease anyone in the neighbourhood.”
“Not at all, sir. Quite the opposite,” she replied, looking ahead. She felt he wished to say something more and did not dare. She did not dare insist either, so they separated at the usual spot, with a proper good bye.
Two more days passed, each with a similar scene. What differed was Elizabeth’s feelings every time she met Mr Darcy: eagerness, anticipation, nervousness, and delight all together.
She and Mr Darcy had not established a precise meeting place or time, but it always happened, as if they were of the same mind. He still had not spoken of their relationship, but she felt they were becoming closer every day. Small gestures, certain words, smiles, and glances were different. As little experience as Elizabeth had in courtship, her heart and her mind told her that this was more than a friendship. She was fearful to even imagine he might consider proposing to her. But what else could all his hints mean? A man such as him would not show her such particular attention if his interest and his intentions were not of a certain type.
Two days prior to her departure date, Elizabeth had just left through the back door of the Parsonage for her walk when, through the open window, she heard Charlotte and Mr Collins talking in low voices.
“My dear, I cannot believe that!” Charlotte declared.
“I heard people in the village talking! Everybody says the same! Mr Darcy would not show such attention to a woman if it were not true! Besides, even Lady Catherine complains about how often Mr Darcy takes solitary rides!”
Elizabeth’s heart stopped, and she held her breath, her body trembling. What were they talking about? Did anyone suspect something improper was happening between her and Mr Darcy? How dare they?”
“My dear, I would advise you not to tell Lady Catherine.”
“I absolutely must! She always says that as a clergyman, I must know everything that happens in my parish! What if somebody else tells her first? She would never forgive me!”
“At least wait two more days, until Eliza and Maria leave. You do not want a scandal with the two of them here.”
“Very well. Two more days, if nothing else arises to add more urgency to the matter. I cannot believe that Mr Darcy did not show more caution, especially since he knew such rumours would hurt his future wife, Miss de Bourgh. It seems he is not the excellent gentleman his aunt believes him to be. As for the woman, I shall not even dignify her enough to mention her name!”
At this, Elizabeth stepped away carefully, then she began to run towards the grove. The notion that her friend since childhood could believe so ill of her and despise her so much, that the people of Hunsford were talking so horribly about her and Mr Darcy, was outrageous.
As she ran, she saw the object of her thoughts, waiting. By that time, she knew tears were falling down her cheeks, and she wiped them awy angrily.
“Miss Bennet?”
She looked at him; his expression betrayed concern and torment.
