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“Yes,” said Jane; “accompanied by Miss Fairfax. I am surprised they are alone with Mr Bingley.”
“The Bingley sisters and Mr Hurst are with them. But they left the box as soon as the curtain fell. I saw them during the first act.”
Looking around, the Bennets saw the Bingley sisters enter another box closer to the stage.
“Do not worry, Lizzy,” said Jane in a measured tone. “I am perfectly composed. After that incident at the ball I was determined to reconcile myself to the fact that I can no longer hope to re-engage his affections.”
“Elizabeth, Jane!” said Georgie, returning from the back of the box. “Richard has procured some punch for us!” she said, handing two cups over the backs of the seats and reaching for a third for herself before settling on a spare seat beside Hildie. “Well? How do you like it so far?”
“Wonderful!” said Lizzy. “I never imagined anything so beautiful!”
“I am having a little difficulty following it,” admitted Jane, “but the music seems superior to the English opera I saw at Covent Garden with the Garths.”
“Wait until you hear the Queen of the Night’s aria in Act Two!” crowed Georgie. “How I wish I could sing like that!”
Their attention was then drawn by a visitor to their box. When he stepped sufficiently far into the box to block the bright light coming from the gaslights in the vestibule, Lizzy saw that it was Mr Thorne. He had indeed shaved his sideburns down to neat points and looked every bit as handsome as Lizzy had imagined him. When Lizzy gave him a smile of recognition, the colonel, who had stood to greet him, permitted him to pass. Mr Thorne took Georgie’s seat in the front row between the Bennet sisters.
“How good to see you again, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, flashing her a knowing smile.
“Why! I hardly recognised you, Mr Thorne!” returned Elizabeth. “Have you shaved your beard?”
“Indeed! I felt it was time for a change,” he said conspiratorially before turning to kiss Jane’s hand. “Good evening, Miss Bennet! I did not expect to see you tonight when the Garths told me their former governess had returned. Had I not recognised your sister beside you I might have thought myself dreaming!”
Elizabeth watched as Jane blushed at this gallantry. It seemed her sister was not totally unaffected by Mr Thorne. Watching them discuss the first act, Lizzy noted that he was once again dressed entirely in black—even his shirt and cravat. Both were made of silk.
After the initial pleasantries, Elizabeth introduced Mr Thorne to the rest of the party. He was greeted graciously by the ladies but with a frown by the colonel when he realised that Mr Thorne was not a gentleman, but a trader from Bristol. Under her skirts, Georgie gave her cousin a kick. After the bell rang to announce the second act, Mr Thorne gave a bow and excused himself.
When Georgie made to move back to her place, Richard stopped her. “What was that for, eh?”
“Merely because you were being so proud!” retorted Georgie. “He is the most successful merchant in Bristol unconnected with the slave trade—far richer than Mr Bingley.”
“Really, Miss Know-It-All? And how do you come by this information?”
“Brother has invested in his company,” said Georgie, sailing past her cousin with her nose in the air.
No more could be said before the lights went down and the curtain up. Jane saw Mr Thorne enter a box not far from the Bingleys’, occupied solely by gentlemen. When she recognised Mr Garth as one of the party, she inclined her head towards him and received an answering nod.
The second act was every bit as amazing as Georgie had promised. As the curtain went down, Miss Darcy suggested they depart quickly before the vestibule became too crowded. Without a backward glance at the Bingleys, Jane hurried to comply with her hostess’s wishes. It was only when the colonel handed them into their carriage and waved the coachman on that Lizzy realised Hildie had not followed them.
“I hope you do not mind,” said Georgie as the coach set off. “Hildie always wants to stay behind to socialise, but brother waits up for me, so I do not like to dally.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Admit it, Georgie! You dislike socialising as much as he does!”
Jane looked shocked at her sister’s forwardness. Georgie was about to protest but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was a splutter and an answering laugh.
On arriving home, Georgie shucked off her heeled shoes in the vestibule and hurried up the stairs in stockinged feet to her brother’s apartments, followed closely by Elizabeth and trailed by Jane, who mounted with more decorum. They found Darcy sitting in bed in one of his elaborate brocade dressing gowns. With a bow, Finn closed the book he was reading and bid his master goodnight.
“Well?” asked Fitzwilliam as his sister neared the bed. “How did you like it?”
“Wonderful! It was even better the second time round, or maybe it was the company,” said Georgie, plumping herself down on the counterpane and smiling at Elizabeth.
“Amazing!” said Elizabeth, taking the chair Finn had vacated. “I had no idea that a soprano could hit such notes. She sounded more like a bird than a woman.”
“Now you have piqued my interest,” replied Darcy.
“Oh, Brother! Why do you not come with us next time? I am sure we could arrive late and have the footmen carry your chair up during the first act.”
“Very well,” said Darcy, much to his sister’s surprise. “If I cannot walk by the end of the season, then I will do so. I must admit I felt my solitude tonight.”
