Page 41 of The Work of a Moment

Elizabeth turned as Mr Darcy himself strode through the door, his expression brightening with surprise when he saw her.

“Miss Bennet!”

As much mortification as Elizabeth had felt in the past few minutes, it was overcome by the sense of relief that swept through her when Mr Darcy looked at her, his worried eyes searching hers. “You are well? Has something occurred?”

“Yes, and well, yes, I wished to speak⁠—”

“Brother, is that you?” called a female voice. “I am on my way out. I understand a lady called here for me a few minutes ago, but you need not worry—it was not Miss Bingley.”

A young woman, presumably Miss Darcy, emerged from the shadows of a long corridor. “Oh,” she cried in dismay when she saw Elizabeth standing in the entry hall with the two men. “I, um…”

“Ah, Georgiana,” said Mr Darcy, handing his gloves and hat to the butler. “This is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, whom I met in Hertfordshire, and more recently at Rosings. Miss Bennet, this is my sister, Georgiana.”

Perhaps understanding the girl’s continued confusion, the colonel said, “I encountered Miss Bennet on my walk and begged her to accompany me here to meet you, Georgiana.”

Miss Darcy blushed at her cousin’s impertinence, but her curiosity appeared satisfied. Mr Darcy turned to Elizabeth, eyed her wonderingly, and enquired whether she might join them for refreshments in the drawing room. She nodded gladly.

He looked at his sister meaningfully. “Georgiana? Might you delay your errand?”

“Oh yes, I will call for tea.”

Elizabeth and Mr Darcy would not speak alone, but in company, as was proper. Perhaps she would find a moment to apologise to him, to explain what had occurred at the parsonage. Perhaps I should have enclosed a letter in his book. Well, she would have the chance to know Miss Darcy. After all, it was not fair to put him in an awkward position. Was it not enough she had come, alone, to his house?

As Georgiana spoke to the housekeeper and Fitzwilliam led Elizabeth to the drawing room, the butler stepped towards Darcy, looking abashed. “My apologies, sir. Your instructions regarding Miss Darcy’s visitors pertained only to Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. In your absence this morning, I may have overstepped.”

“All is well, Tompkins.” Of course, Darcy had no idea if it was well. Elizabeth appeared more discomfited than distressed and it was not clear how much Fitzwilliam had prevaricated about his seemingly chance encounter with her. His cousin’s story was ridiculous, but Georgiana had believed it.

He would believe it as well. Elizabeth was here, in his home. At risk of her reputation, she had come to him. He could tell her of his final conversation with Bingley and assure her he would no longer trouble her sister. He would say nothing of his visit to his clubs afterwards, taking a drink in the card rooms at White’s and Boodle’s and listening to the drunken boasts and lurid half-truths tossed around there. No one spoke to him of his sister or Bingley. Instead, he was ‘entertained’ by the tale of a newly married viscount caught out by his wife when she saw the ink marks made by his mistress connecting his moles.

He patted his pocket containing the note which had arrived from Bingley earlier.

I have spoken to Caroline, though I cannot say she has learnt her lesson. She will have her fortune by week’s end, and with that she is free to determine her own fate. As for me, it is time to assess my decisions and, more importantly, my indecision, in life. I am determined to firm my chin.

Much as Bingley had frustrated him with his rash behaviour, Darcy now felt an inkling of pride mixed with his relief. He had spent far too much time helping his younger friend manage his affairs. It is time to manage my own.

He took a breath and entered the morning room, where Elizabeth sat beside Georgiana, resplendent and looking as if she had always belonged there. The light shade of green in her gown matched her bonnet, and together, they somehow made her lovely eyes even more striking. She caught sight of him and smiled. He was lost, feeling the thrum of possibility that she might welcome his feelings. He returned it, heedless of what the others might think, and took the chair nearest her. He would thank Fitzwilliam later for his unusual graciousness in leaving it to him.

Though nervous, Georgiana appeared pleased to make the acquaintance of the lady who, she said brightly, her brother had mentioned in his letters from Netherfield and Rosings. She quickly added, “Only that he was pleased to encounter you again, as you made a lively addition to Rosings.”

“Thank you, Miss Darcy. I believe I was seen as just that, ‘a lively addition’, by Lady Catherine as well.”

Fitzwilliam chuckled, but Darcy could only smile, astonished by Elizabeth’s ability to make a joke about anything concerning his aunt. He felt her gaze on him and wondered whether she shared his impatience for the formality required while his sister remained. He could barely hide his relief a few minutes later when Georgiana excused herself to finish packing for her trip to Surrey. A moment later, the housekeeper, Mrs Tully, entered and took a chair in the far corner. She pulled a letter from her pocket and began to read.

Fitzwilliam chuckled. “My mother has directed me to accompany Georgiana and her companion. I am certain she wishes a report on our visit to Lady Catherine—and on what has been done to quiet any hum in town. Forgive me, Miss Bennet. There is some ugly business about Darcy’s friend, Bingley.” His cousin looked at Elizabeth, but Darcy was pleased to see her gaze was settled on him.

He leant towards her. “I am mortified by Lady Catherine’s attack on your good name and character. I learnt of it from Fitzwilliam and⁠—”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, truly, it is of no matter. Misunderstanding another’s essential nature is a common mistake for many of us.”

It is indeed.

“And each of us must own up to our errors.” She shifted, pulled a book—the Byron!—from a pocket in her skirts, and set it on the table. “I was reassured to see you yesterday, Mr Darcy, and I thank you for lending me your book.”

How clever she was, returning his manoeuvre! Darcy nodded, fighting the smile that threatened. He would not fully expose himself with Fitzwilliam gawping at him.

The laughter in Elizabeth’s expression faded, and in a quiet voice, she asked, “Have further difficulties arisen with our mutual friend?”

Fitzwilliam’s deep voice broke the spell between them. “Miss Bennet, I understand you are acquainted with Bingley?”