Unable to help herself, Elizabeth let her gaze drift across the aisle.
She met Darcy’s eyes instantly. He was already looking at her and did not look away. Instead, his lips twitched, and he offered a distracting smile that made Elizabeth’s heart skip a few beats.
She rapidly snapped her gaze back to her prayer book, her cheeks burning with a fiery heat. She was being actively courted in the middle of a church service, under the nose of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by a man who had previously declared her tolerable.
The universe was undeniably mad.
THE INTERVAL BETWEENthe church service and the grand dinner at Rosings Park was tense and full of anticipation.
Back at the parsonage, Sir William Lucas had surrendered to the luncheon and was napping in an armchair, emitting a whistling snore. Mr Collins was pacing the hallway, mutteringhis grace under his breath, while Maria agonised upstairs over whether her muslin gown was too rumpled.
Elizabeth found a quiet moment in her bedchamber. She stood by the window, looking out over the meadow, when the door clicked open and Charlotte stepped inside.
“The letter is secure, I presume?” Charlotte asked.
“The letter is safe,” Elizabeth assured her, turning away from the window. She sighed, the weight of the morning pressing down on her. “Though I received another missive. From Jane.”
Charlotte moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “Is she well?”
“She is angry,” Elizabeth confided, her voice dropping to a halting, troubled whisper. “Charlotte, Jane is angry. She wrote of Mr Bingley with a coldness I have never seen in her. She is done with him and... she needs me in London.”
Charlotte absorbed this information, her sensible eyes narrowing as she thought of the implications. She did not offer empty platitudes because she heard exactly what Elizabeth was not saying.
“Then it is a good thing you are leaving soon. Jane is moving forward,” Charlotte observed. “Which leaves you free to do the same without the burden of resentment.”
Elizabeth looked down at her hands. “It changes things. My foundation for hating him was built upon Jane’s broken heart. If Jane’s heart is healing, and her anger is directed at Mr Bingley’s own weakness... what am I left with?”
“You are left with a man who loves you,” Charlotte stated plainly. “A man who has spent the last weeks invading my parlour just to watch you mend a hem. You have beenhumming, Lizzy. For three days, you have hummed while you walked the lanes.”
Elizabeth flushed. “I am enjoying the spring air.”
“You are enjoying the ‘renovations’,” Charlotte said, smirking. “Tell me honestly. How are the foundations of Pemberley faring?”
Elizabeth let out a short, defeated laugh. She sat down next to her friend, the tangled truth spilling over. “The foundations are solid, Charlotte. The current owner is showing an excellent aptitude for taking instruction. He smiled at me in church today. And... It dismantled me.”
Charlotte’s pragmatic façade cracked, revealing all the affection she held for her friend. “So, the marble is not so cold after all?”
“No, not at all.” Elizabeth giggled, admitting it aloud for the first time. “He is kind, he is fiercely loyal, and he is at my mercy.”
Charlotte laughed and patted Elizabeth’s knee, her voice dropping into a satisfied drawl. “Ten thousand a year, Lizzy, and now a conscience too? It is almost too much good fortune for one family to bear.”
“Do not count the income yet, Charlotte. We still have to survive dinner with his aunt.”
THE WALK FROM THE PARSONAGEto Rosings Park was conducted with the solemnity of a procession to the scaffold.
Mr Collins lined them up in the hallway, issuing last-minute directives. “Sir William, you shall enter first!Cousin Elizabeth, remember to keep your eyes lowered when Her Ladyship addresses the meat! And Maria, for the love of all that is holy, do not step heavily upon the gravel! We must not disturb the symmetry of the drive!”
Maria Lucas was shaking in her boots, her teeth chattering.
Elizabeth, however, looped her arm through Charlotte’s, confident because she was not going into a lion’s lair to be judged. She was going into a room containing a man who had laid his consequence at her feet, and she held all the cards.
They were welcomed into the grand drawing room by Lady Catherine, who was seated in her throne-like chair, surrounded by the Rosings party.
“Ah, Mr Collins.” Lady Catherine dispensed with the pleasantries. “You are punctual for once. I appreciate punctuality. It is a sign of a disciplined mind. Miss Elizabeth, your hem is slightly damp. You should have lifted your skirts higher on the grass.”
“I shall try to elevate my hems to Her Ladyship’s exacting standards in the future.” Elizabeth executed a flawless curtsy.
From the corner of the room, Darcy let out a suspicious, muffled cough.
