Page 74 of Mr. Darcy’s Diamonds

“I happened to see him in town yesterday.”

“Oh! He is in London already?”

“He is. After you left me at the park, I decided to call on another friend and happened to cross paths with Darcy as I was passing through Berkeley Square. I am certain he did not see me, but the sight of him was enough to dampen my spirits.”

“I am sorry you had to think of him. Do not fret now. Shall I play you some music to calm your mind?”

“Would you? You are truly angelic and know exactly how to soothe me.”

Elizabeth had not expected Mr. Wickham would join her at the instrument, but she did not object when he said he would stand near her to turn her pages. Mr. Cage and other men had often turned her pages, generally maintaining a respectful distance. She was unsure how she felt about Mr. Wickham standing so close that she could feel the warmth from his body and the brush of his arm against her own as he slowly reached for each page corner.

She thought his touch should excite her, but instead, she wrinkled her nose at his musky scent and found herself casting looks toward Matthew to ensure he still stood sentinel. He gave her a questioning look and nearly moved toward her until she gave a small shake of her head. As soon as the song ended, however, she slid off the seat away from Mr. Wickham and returned to the chairs closer to her servants.

Mr. Wickham did not seem to notice anything amiss, and they carried on a friendly but subdued conversation for the remainder of his visit. She knew Mr. Darcy’s memory hung over his mood, and she could not bring herself to return the diamond hair comb yet and upset him further. She tried to think of something that would please him, as her music had clearly been insufficient. It turned out they both had invitations to a ball the following Tuesday, and she agreed to reserve a set for him. That cheered him again, and she rejoiced in her success when he took his leave.

She had some time to paint today, so she took her thoughts to her attic studio in hopes of sorting them out in the chilly but solitary room. Having recently finished a piece but not yet deciding what to paint next, she let the colors and brush strokes form themselves into their own design while she attempted to make sense of her feelings.

Mr. Wickham’s attentions made her feel accepted, wanted, even desired. She had imagined what it might be like if he were to kiss her. No man ever had, but she was not certain she wanted Mr. Wickham to take that liberty. She was not in love with him, but perhaps she could be if he continued in this way.

She was suddenly glad, perhaps for the first time, that Uncle Bennet had forbidden her from marrying for two more years. By the time she was one-and-twenty, she could surely fall in love with Mr. Wickham. And if his affections could not last that long, it was best she found out before the ceremony. If she did love him sooner, however, perhaps she could convince Uncle Bennet to change his mind about her needing to wait so long, as he had given in to Mary.

Mr. Wickham made her happy. He was attentive to her and her aunt on each visit, asking about their families and the children, rather than speaking only of himself as so many men did. He was interested in Elizabeth’s connection to the Bingleys and even to Mr. Darcy. Mr. Wickham easily changed his own plans to accommodate her work at the Foundling Hospital.

When she was with him, she sometimes felt overwhelmed. Not always in a good way, but she thought his aspect was more impressive than most men, forcing some feeling from her whenever he was with her. Truly, spending time with him was exhausting. Her senses were all engaged when she was with him, giving her much to consider after every encounter.

After four days in a row in his company, Elizabeth found herself hoping he would not call again before Monday afternoon. She did like him a great deal, but she needed time away from him to consider his suit.

That afternoon as she painted, the memory of Mr. Wickham was not enough to compensate for the loss of friends and family she had felt all week since her return to town. Christmas had been a time of joy and laughter with so much love around her.

She again felt grateful her uncle had agreed to raise her alongside his daughters. She was not close to Kitty and Lydia, as they had been so young when she had come to London, and she had missed important years with them. Elizabeth had valued spending time with the younger girls the previous weeks, though. She thought of them now with fondness. Kitty would be seventeen this summer and Lydia fifteen. The younger girl had begged her older sister and parents to delay Kitty’s come out by a year and let Lydia come out a year early. Therefore, both girls would begin attending assemblies after their birthdays in June.

Perhaps she would paint a London scene for their shared bedchamber. Elizabeth thought they would revel in dreaming of a London ball or a park full of finely dressed ladies and gentlemen. She smiled, satisfied that she had her next series of paintings planned.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Darcy! Have you eaten? Come join us.”

Bingley sat at White’s with two of his friends from Oxford, also recent graduates. Darcy tried to remember their names, but both had finished their meals and excused themselves with apologies as he approached.

“Am I an unsavory acquaintance?” Darcy knew he could expect far worse treatment when he began to court Elizabeth.

“Not at all. They are late to some little rout put on by Hill’s mother. It is good to see you! When did you arrive in town?”

“Yesterday afternoon. How was the festive season? You went to Hertfordshire?”

Bingley sighed comfortably. Darcy was glad to see all was in order with his friend’s engagement. “You left Miss Bennet well, I hope?”

“Yes. Being in the country with her was far different from attending all the parties during the busy Season. We had more time to talk privately together and understand each other even better. She is perfect, Darcy.”

Darcy knew that was not accurate, but if Bingley wanted to believe it, he would not stop him.

“Did you get to know all the Bennets while you were there?”

“I did. I had met everyone in July, of course, but that had been such a short trip. Jane’s sisters are rather lively. Aside from Miss Mary.”

“She is the sister who is closest in age to Miss Elizabeth, I think.”

“Yes, and you will never believe this, Darcy. Her father allowed her to enter into an engagement with a local man at Christmas, though she is not yet nineteen. Yet he will not allow me to wed Jane until late autumn.”