He returned her smile, and feeling self-conscious, she gave her attention to the stage. She had implied to Mr Darcy thatmore than one person had accompanied the Bingleys and her that evening, but in truth, it was only Mr Grey. Tonight was the third time they had been in company together.
Shortly before the interval, Elizabeth had the sensation of something crawling down her spine. When she could no longer bear it, she dared to look towards the box in which Mr Darcy sat. Instantly, her gaze was caught by that of the Countess of Romsley. She and Lord Romsley, both sitting tall and proud, were staring at her while their younger son whispered to them. It was difficult to entirely make out expressions given how far apart they were, but Elizabeth knew the Romsleys did not regard her with friendly curiosity. Acid burnt her throat, and she wrenched her eyes away and spent the remainder of the act pretending to follow the action on the stage.
At the interval, Bingley announced, “I am going to see if I can find Darcy, if you do not object, my dear.”
Jane said that she did not.
“Shall I see whether I can secure us refreshments, ladies?” Mr Grey asked.
“That is very kind of you. I would appreciate it, and I am sure Lizzy would also.” Jane nudged Elizabeth, who, not certain exactly what had passed, decided to simply nod.
When they were alone, Jane moved to sit next to Elizabeth and said, “I did not know Mr Darcy was here. Did you see him?”
“I did. He and Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived when I was speaking to Miss Reed and Lord Bramwell.”
“And?” Jane pressed when she failed to continue.
“And nothing.” Elizabeth regarded her to add emphasis to her words. “We were together for just a minute or two.” While this was true in a strict sense, there was always more to herencounters with Mr Darcy—and Colonel Fitzwilliam, for that matter. It was a sort of undercurrent she was attempting to overlook.
Jane sighed and furrowed her brow.
“Stop worrying!” Elizabeth rested a hand on her sister’s. “IknowMr Darcy and I can be nothing to each other, and while there is still a little bit of awkwardness when we meet, that will dissipate soon enough. I choose to think of what makes me happy, and that is being with you and my darling brother, and the amusing ways I have been occupying myself.”
“What of Mr Grey?”
Before responding, Elizabeth glanced at the entrance to the box, listening for any sign that he was nearby. “I like him, and I anticipate knowing him better in the coming weeks. That is the most I am prepared to say.”
“I like him too, and Bingley speaks highly of him,” Jane said.
At the end of the evening, Mr Grey returned home with Elizabeth and the Bingleys to partake of supper. Seeing how Bingley watched them, Elizabeth was certain he hoped that more than friendship developed between them.
Clearly to further his matchmaking scheme, Bingley occupied Jane in conversation as they ate, leaving Mr Grey and Elizabeth to amuse each other.
“How did you like the play?” Mr Grey asked.
“To be honest, I am not sure what my opinion is. The actors were very good, but I tend to appreciate the history in Shakespeare’s works, and perhapsCymbelinehas too much of the fantastical in it. Yet, I also enjoy those elements in other plays.”
“Such asA Midsummer Night’s Dream?”
“Exactly! Have you read much Shakespeare?”
“I have. I admit to being quite the voracious reader when I have time. I have been accused of neglecting my company in favour of the activity. Since inheriting the estate, I have been too busy to devote as much attention to books or friends as I would like. There is much more work involved than I expected. My father was used to arranging everything in his way, but it is now 1813, and I want to manage it in a manner that reflects today, rather than 1780 or whenever it was my father inherited. Do you understand what I mean? I fear I have not explained myself well.”
He laughed, which brought out an attractive dimple in one cheek.Mr Darcy has a similar one—two, rather, one on each side of his handsome—Elizabeth bit the inside of her lip to still her thoughts. Shemustfind a way to stop thinking of him! She regarded Mr Grey and wondered what role he would play in her life in the coming years. The more she knew him, the more she was forced to admit there was much to admire—his love of books for one, something she shared with him.
And Mr Darcy.
Again, she reprimanded her mind, her heart, whatever it was that made such thoughts intrude on her peace.
“What is the name of your estate?” she asked. “I recall that it is in Northamptonshire, but that is all.”
“Graystone Manor, spelt with an a. The reason for the difference between surname and estate name is lost to history, and no one has seen fit to correct it. Can you guess what colour the house is?”
Elizabeth tapped her chin speculatively. “Hmm…violet?”
They shared a laugh, and she asked him to describe his home. While he did, she successfully keptanother gentlemanout of her thoughts.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
