Page 23 of The Work of a Moment

Wiping a tear from her cheek, Elizabeth realised how much she missed the soothingly silly chatter of her youngest sisters and went quickly to her room to await Maria’s soft and anticipatory knock on her door.

Charlotte, however, preceded her sister, coming only moments after Elizabeth had pulled on her nightgown and robe.

“Lizzy, are you well?” she asked, entering with a tea tray and worried expression. “Are you lost in the stars?”

Elizabeth sat on the bed before taking the cup her friend proffered. “It will not surprise you that I am.”

Charlotte took the chair next to the bed and wrinkled her nose. “I shall sit here. I do not wish the redolent air of burned trout and oily white sauce to come too close while you enjoy your oolong.”

Laughing, Elizabeth shook her head. “I cannot smell any of your lovely dinner, although the soup you left for me may have been more satisfying. There is some left, if you are hungry.”

“Oh, I am not hungry. Regardless of a dish’s taste or form, Lady Catherine and Mr Collins are zealous in ensuring we all eat healthy portions. It is fortunate Maria and I are accustomed to sauces being used by our mama’s cook to conceal excessively roasted meats and vegetables. At least one of Lady Catherine’s nephews appears to have been similarly conditioned by his meals in the army.”

Elizabeth felt Charlotte’s gaze burning into her but kept her eyes on her tea. “I do not recall the pheasant or creamed potatoes we dined on at Rosings as being anything but pleasant.”

“We dined promptly at six on that day.” Charlotte’s voice took on a teasing quality. “This evening, our dinner was delayed when Mr Darcy failed to join us. He disappeared from Rosings’s drawing room shortly before we were to dine, and Lady Catherine sent two footmen to search the house for him.”

Elizabeth could only shake her head, unable to speak. She lifted the cup to her lips.

“You will not guess where he was found.”

The tea burned her throat. Coughing, she set it on the bedside table. “Where?”

Charlotte’s voice grew softer. “He was not found. He disappeared from the house and was seen re-entering it only moments before our departure.”

“Was he—is he well? Does anyone know where he went?”

“I suspect I do… Mr Darcy is the only gentleman of my acquaintance in Kent who wears a cologne with the scent of bergamot.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Charlotte⁠—”

“Mr Collins and Maria have no idea,” Charlotte assured her. “It was fortunate you encouraged Sarah to visit her mother.”

Yes, Elizabeth had allowed the girl to walk to her mother’s house a mile away, but it had not been a scheme to allow for a secret meeting with Mr Darcy!

Charlotte smoothed her pale blue skirts. Elizabeth recognised the gown as one her friend had worn to many of the Meryton assemblies, and she wondered briefly whether Charlotte had laughed or danced since her wedding. She was, in essentials, still the wry, intelligent, warm-hearted friend Elizabeth remembered, but she was now a wife. Mrs Collins owed her loyalty to Mr Collins. Elizabeth could not speak to her of what had passed between herself and Mr Darcy.

“Lizzy, was Mr Darcy here?”

She frowned, making sure to display her own dismayed surprise at the call. “Briefly, very briefly. I had encountered him and Colonel Fitzwilliam earlier on my walk, and he worried their company had caused my headache.”

“That is all?”

Elizabeth nodded and turned away, unable to bear the scrutiny in her friend’s doubtful expression. “I am a little tired,” she murmured. “Thank you for the tea. Please tell Maria I shall be an eager audience tomorrow for her account of the evening.”

Charlotte closed the door as she departed, leaving Elizabeth in quiet contemplation on the bed. There she remained, lying awake for several hours, shamed by her evasions and attempting to sort her thoughts and understanding of Mr Darcy. He came to the parsonage concerned for my welfare because I was unwell. I did not prevaricate, other than on the content and duration of his call.

Elizabeth! He came to declare his admiration for you! To tell you that his feelings could not be suppressed. What did that mean? Love? Desire?

It was unthinkable, truly, that he should feel so! But he had declaimed it with such intensity and had neglected his aunt to come tell her. And I told him his words were unwanted and exposed myself as a fool. I misjudged his friend and have misjudged him as well.

Mr Darcy had been discreet, upright, and restrained in feeling—until the moment he burst into the parsonage to tell her of his affections for her! Which she had dismissed as imprudent and unwanted in order to level accusations at his character! Mr Darcy had emerged as a true gentleman, quiet and reserved but protective of his friends, whether or not they deserved it.

Finally, her desire for sleep led her to extinguish the only candle still burning. However, it was some time before her desire became a reality, and sleep remained elusive throughout the night.

CHAPTER 19

Dazed and Confused