With this inducement, her mother approved of her going and, along with her sisters, wrote a shopping list for Elizabeth to take with her. She insisted they organise it into two categories—what was absolutely necessary and what was only desired—else she would need all afternoon, and her father would not agree to such a long excursion.
Once they were in the carriage, he rested his head against the squabs, closed his eyes, and said, “It is good to be out of the house. I do not even care that we maynot be gone for long. I trust you understand my feelings.”
He patted her hand, she assured him she did, and he rested quietly for the short ride into Meryton. She almost told him that she was proud of the efforts he was taking with her mother and sisters but expected he would not like her to draw attention to the changes he had made; it was a reminder of the ways he hadnotbeen the man they had needed. He had helped her too. His caution about refusing to rethink her first impressions had been invaluable; without it, she might never have let herself know Mr Darcy, and her life would have been poorer for it.
Once in Meryton, they went their separate ways to see to their errands. Elizabeth had just selected a new pair of cream-coloured silk gloves that would perfectly match Kitty’s gown when the door to the shop opened. To her delight, Mr Darcy entered. She smiled broadly; he returned the gesture with a more restrained one. Given he did not demonstrate his feelings as easily as she did—she had noticed that about him some time ago—she felt free to believe he took as much pleasure in their meeting as she did.
“Miss Elizabeth, how do you do? I am surprised to see you here, given the threatening clouds.” He bowed.
“I am well, sir, and I might say the same to you. My father and I leapt at the first opportunity to be somewhere other than at home for a short while. He is at the bookseller’s while I find a few last trinkets my mother and sisters insist they need for tomorrow. I am to meet him there once I have finished.”
During her speech, he had come to stand next to her and acknowledged the shopkeeper with a polite nod.
“I, too, was glad for the chance to leave Netherfield for an hour or two, though I cannot claim any particular reason to do it other than a desire to see something different. I thought I might go to the bookseller’s and was on my way there when I spied you through the window.”
“Are you on your own?”
He nodded. “I believe Bingley wanted to accompany me, but his sisters requested his assistance as they make final preparations for the ball.”
He chuckled in a way that suggested he had found the entire business rather fatiguing—not that Elizabeth supposed he had any direct role in it. Knowing how much her mother fussed over the arrangements for a dinner party, she could imagine that Mrs Hurst’s and Miss Bingley’s conversation was centred on the decorations, refreshments, supper, music, and guests—to say nothing of their own costumes—all of which were unlikely to hold his interest. His next words showed that she was right.
“I understand it is a large undertaking, and neither lady has had much occasion to host such an affair before. Naturally, they want everything to be as close to perfect as possible. I admit, I have been a little shocked by how much care Miss Bingley is putting into it.” After ensuring no one was listening to them—the shopkeeper had gone to assist another customer—he added, “From the beginning, Bingley’s sisters made it plain that they wished he had taken an estate in a more…fashionable county. It has taken them time to recognise Hertfordshire’s charms. I believe it was only after we went to St Albans that their view of the neighbourhood began to change, especially for Miss Bingley, who is too young to remember their mother.”
Again, he looked about them before continuing, this time lowering his voice to little more than a whisper; he leant closer to her. “I have not known whether I should say anything, but I think I should. Forgive me if I am mistaken. Bingley is growing rather fond of Miss Bennet. I am afraid his sisters…” He fixed her with a look that made it seem like he was begging her to understand and save him the awkwardness of saying the rest.
She let out a heavy breath. “They believe he could do better, such as a lady who would bring connexions and a substantial fortune to their marriage?”
He nodded. “Bingley has told them that such things do not matter to him, and I do not anticipate that they will change his opinion, no matter how stubbornly they insist he would be acting imprudently in pursuing your sister. But Miss Bennet should be aware that she should exercise caution in befriending them, although I truly believe they like her. Bingley’s sisters love him, and with time, I expect they will accept that he will not take their opinions into account when it comes to something as important as choosing his wife. I do not say he has decided?—”
“I understand, Mr Darcy,” she interjected. “They have hardly known each other a month. It is too soon for either of them to have determined they would suit.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment,and Elizabeth was sure her heart stopped beating. Were they speaking only of Jane and Mr Bingley? Did he also feel that the same held true for the two of them? Could he possibly like her enough to think that their friendship might become so much more?
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the shopkeeper then returned to them and asked whether Elizabeth had decided on the gloves. Tearing her eyes and thoughts away from Mr Darcy, she added the pair to several other items she had already selected and concluded her purchases. She then invited Mr Darcy to go with her to meet her father, and they proceeded to the bookseller’s, neither speaking. For her part, Elizabeth felt too much and needed the short interlude to gather her thoughts and set them aside until she was alone and could freely contemplate her evolving sentiments for the fine gentleman who was increasingly occupying her mind and heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
As soon as her father saw Mr Darcy, he grinned.
“Well, Mr Darcy, this is a coincidence. Did you also experience a desire to run away from your home—albeit a temporary one, in your case? I cannot imagine you felt as confined as Lizzy and I did, given how large Netherfield is.”
Mr Darcy glanced at her, making her wonder whether he was unsure how to answer. He said, “I did not wish to distract the ladies from their preparations. They impressed upon Bingley and me that there is a great deal for them to do in advance of the ball, and while they have not hesitated to demand their brother assist them, they would hardly be so free with me.”
“Please, Papa, try not to tease Mr Darcy. He is not used to your ways,” Elizabeth said.
Mr Bennet chuckled. “Or yours, my dear. You are almost as capable of teasing someone as I am. Very well, I shall not allude to you possibly being uncomfortable at Netherfield, Mr Darcy, and I shall refrain from sharingmy next joke, which was about finding it small compared to your own estate.”
His eyes held a mischievous twinkle; that, combined with his words, told her that he liked Mr Darcy. It gladdened her, and as she had done before, she marvelled at how quickly their opinions had all changed of each other. In response to her father, she rolled her eyes, and Mr Darcy shrugged, which she took as him agreeing with the statement; Mr Darcy’s expression was one of good humour, and Elizabeth could see that her father approved.
For the next while, they spoke of books. Her father sought Mr Darcy’s thoughts on several of the bookseller’s latest finds, which led to them asking each other whether they owned or had read certain volumes and what their opinions had been. Elizabeth participated when she felt like it, but she was content to listen and observe.
There was no denying she was attracted to Mr Darcy in a way she had never felt before. To be sure, she had experienced one or two infatuations when she was younger, but they had never lasted long. What was it aboutthisgentleman that inspired her tender feelings? She appreciated his good looks, he had an excellent mind, and spending time in his company was agreeable and remarkably easy, but there was more to it she had yet to sort out. Was it seeing how he treated Budge, that he clearly cared for the little creature, despite also finding him embarrassing? She suspected it also had to do with his willingness to admit his faults. He had listened to the censures of his friend and her father, and—instead of dismissing them or simply leaving Meryton—he had stayed and demonstrated that he could do better, which took an inner strength that was worthy of praise, as did being so open about how Mr Wickham’s betrayals had affected him. Or maybe it was all of this plus an indefinable something that created a certainty in her that he was worth knowing.
More and more, she felt lighter, happier, and oddly fuller in his company. The way he kept glancing at her gave her ample reason to believe he returned her feelings, and that his recent attentions had not all been about apologising for insulting her. Although less than six weeks had passed since then, she felt like she had known him for years.
Having concluded his business, which involved purchasing three books, Mr Bennet said, “What say we go to the inn and take refreshments before we return to our respective abodes? We can avoid all the talk of the ball a little longer.”
Mr Darcy and Elizabeth agreed, and soon they were sitting in a small parlour. Plates of cheeses and meats and soft fresh bread and tea covered the oak table. Her father mentioned that he had lately written to Mr Frederick Darcy. “I hope to hear from him soon. Perhaps it is old age creeping up on me, but I have found it rather…enlivening to think of seeing a friend from my youth once again.”
