Page 25 of Near Pemberley

Darcy, meanwhile, appeared less guarded than she had ever known him. Though reserve still belonged naturally to him, it no longer seemed erected as a barrier between himself and the world. There was an openness in his attention to her – cautious, restrained, but unmistakable – which quite affected Elizabeth.

She had once believed him proud beyond amendment. Now she wondered whether she had ever truly understood him at all.

At that moment, footsteps sounded in the passage, followed shortly by the entrance of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.

“There you are, Lizzy,” said her uncle cheerfully. “I began to think Mr. Darcy had persuaded you entirely away from us.”

Elizabeth rose at once, perhaps more quickly than composure strictly required.

Mrs. Gardiner’s observant glance passed lightly from one countenance to the other, though with too much delicacy to betray whatever conclusions she might privately have formed.

“We hope we have not interrupted you,” she said.

“Not at all,” replied Darcy.

“We have had a very agreeable walk,” said Mr. Gardiner, removing his gloves. “Though I believe my wife has now inspected every stone in Lambton church. She spent many Sunday services there when young.”

“What are you insinuating, Mr. Gardiner?” returned Mrs. Gardiner with a smile. “Are you saying I am not young anymore?”

“I sincerely would not dare, madam.” Her husband responded with mock humility.

Georgiana laughed at their banter.

Elizabeth coloured slightly and turned away under pretence of adjusting her gloves.

Darcy, though composed, seemed not entirely insensible to the observation.

Some further conversation followed – easy, unimportant, yet carried on with a degree of mutual attention which rendered even trifles agreeable. Darcy spoke again of the arrangements for the following day; Mr. Gardiner renewed his thanks for the invitation; Mrs. Gardiner expressed pleasure at the prospect of seeing Miss Darcy again.

At length, however, the moment came when departure could no longer be delayed without awkwardness.

Darcy rose.

He seemed, briefly, on the point of saying something further, but whatever the impulse had been, he checked it.

“Then I shall hope to see you tomorrow.”

Mr. Gardiner returned the civility warmly. Mrs. Gardiner likewise offered her acknowledgements, but it was towards Elizabeth that Darcy turned last.

For one brief instant, the composure he had so carefully maintained seemed less secure.

“I am glad,” he said softly, “that we met today.”

The words were simple. Yet spoken as they were – without vanity, without presumption, and with a sincerity impossible to mistake – they affected Elizabeth more than she could easily express.

She raised her eyes to his. “So am I.”

For an instant, he looked at her as though the answer had been more than he permitted himself to expect.

His countenance changed then – not fully a smile, but something warmer and infinitely more affecting because restrained.

He bowed. And then they were gone.

Elizabeth found herself listening, almost unconsciously, until the sound of their carriage had entirely faded. For several moments after the door closed, Elizabeth remained strangely still.

After he left, the room seemed strangely still. She became conscious again of the common objects around her – the untouched tea, the bright noon light beyond the window, the ordinary sounds of the inn below stairs – yet everything appeared altered by the recollection of what had just passed.

Mrs. Gardiner, who was removing her bonnet before the glass, glanced towards her niece with affectionate curiosity.