“May have?” The colonel reined in his horse to a stop. “Darcy, the woman looks at you as if you hurt her favorite puppy. Given what I observed?the way she spoke of her uncle’s trade, the emphasis on you finding separate transport?I suspect your offense had to do with her station in life.”
“I was…less than gracious about certain matters.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned. “You let your prideshow, I wager. You thought yourself above her connections.”
“Something like that.” How on earth could he have been so wrong about her?
Tapping his heels on his horse’s flanks, Richard shook his head. “And now you are in love with her.”
It was not a question, but Darcy answered anyway. “Yes.”
“Well, Cousin, I hope you are prepared for a campaign. If you expect simply to declare your intentions and have her fall gratefully into your arms, you are much mistaken. That woman has steel in her spine, and your fortune or your name do not impress her.”
Darcy now suspected as much, but hearing it stated so plainly was sobering. “What do you suggest?”
“Court her. Properly. Show her you are not the arrogant man she believes you to be. And for heaven’s sake, do not assume she will be grateful for your attention. She has never cared about your approval and is not likely to seek it now.”
The colonel was correct, and Darcy knew it.
When they rode away from Netherfield Park, he glimpsed Elizabeth through the window. She was laughing at a quip from Mrs. Bingley, and the sight tugged at his heart. His resolve strengthened. She might not welcome his suit, but he would earn her regard, however long it might take. After all, they would travel to the same destination. What could possibly go wrong?
5
Twenty-four hours had passed since Elizabeth had been in company with Mr. Darcy. Now traveling in a carriage with her father and younger sisters, she was confronted with another situation that required her to hold her emotions in check.
According to the signpost, the Bennets’ coach was two miles from London. When Kitty was not bouncing against the worn leather seats, she was pressing her face to the window glass. Beside her, Lydia craned her neck to catch glimpses of the approaching city.
Mary turned another page ofFordyce’s Sermons,lips pursed in concentration. She once visited London at the ripe age of thirteen and returned to Longbourn with firm opinions about the city’s oppressive heat and unpleasant summer odors. Although she was now nearly twenty, she remained convinced that spring would prove to be an improvement. Next to her, her father sat with his Shakespeare.
Elizabeth’s stomach twisted as she listened to hersisters’ animated chatter. They did not know what awaited them in London.
The memory of her mother’s voice with that particular pitch signaling utter hysteria still rang in her ears. The explosion occurred the previous day. Thomas Bennet had strategically waited for Mary, Kitty, and Lydia to depart on their morning walk to Meryton. Once they had gone, he finally revealed his plans to Mama.
“What?” Mama had shrieked from behind the drawing-room door. “Egypt? You cannot be serious, Mr. Bennet! What about the girls? What about their futures? How am I to find them husbands with them locked away in some horrid school while you gallivant across foreign countries?”
Elizabeth had pressed her palms over her ears in her room above, but nothing could block the sound of Mama’s escalating distress or the indistinct murmur of his responses. The argument had raged for an hour, Mama’s voice cycling through outrage, despair, and eventually, grudging acceptance as her father offered whatever inducements proved necessary.
His edicts extended to Elizabeth, whose plea that he prepare her sisters for what awaited them had fallen on deaf ears. “Please, Papa. You must let them know your plans. Telling them in advance will soften the blow.” In response, he threatened her with the loss of the travel opportunity if she attempted to warn them herself. His desire to make his departure as easy as possible overrode all other considerations.
When the three girls returned from Meryton, laughing from their morning entertainment, they found their parents unusually composed. Their fatherannounced with suspicious buoyancy that he had arranged a trip to London. His daughters would join him.
“Oh, how wonderful!” Lydia clapped. “When do we depart? How long shall we stay? Will there be assemblies? Balls? Officers?”
Kitty added breathlessly, “Might we visit some of the grand shops Caroline Bingley is always describing? At the very least, we can look through Uncle Gardiner’s warehouses.”
Mary had brightened at the prospect of intellectual stimulation beyond Hertfordshire’s limited offerings.
Elizabeth observed their innocent excitement with dread. Her father’s cheerful responses?his careful avoidance of specifics about their accommodations or the duration of their stay? encouraged their lofty expectations, which would soon be cruelly shattered. She contemplated the moment when their carriage would stop in front of the academy’s imposing doors. Her initial anticipation now tasted bitter in her mouth.
Once inside the city proper, Lydia bounced in her seat. “Oh, I can hardly contain myself. London at last!” She turned to their father, almost overcome with eagerness. “Papa, promise that we shall attend every assembly and ball while we are here. I am determined to meet at least a dozen officers before we return to Longbourn.”
Kitty nodded vigorously. “Yes, Papa. Lydia and I have made a list of everything we need from Bond Street: new ribbons, gloves, at least one day gown, and one ball gown with matching slippers for dancing. Even new bonnets.”
Mary looked up from her book. “I hope there will be time to visit the museums, and attend a lecture or two. There is so much to learn in London that one cannot findin the country. I am determined to return to Meryton far more knowledgeable than I am now.”
Lydia waved dismissively. “Oh, pooh! You are such a dull creature, Mary! Who wants to waste time looking at dusty old artifacts when we can dance with handsome men in regimentals?” She turned to Elizabeth, fluttering her eyelashes. “Lizzy, surely you agree that our time would be better spent at private balls than at museums?”
Elizabeth glanced meaningfully at him, then back at her sisters, feeling the weight of what she knew. “I suspect, Lydia, that our visit may not be what any of us expects.”
