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Elizabeth wore a rather simple yellow silk dress with small flowers in her hair. Caroline Bingley, in contrast, sported an au courant orange gown and a large hat bedecked with many plumes. Nevertheless, in Darcy’s eyes, Elizabeth’s very presence illuminated the room as if she cast a golden glow. He would need to remind himself there were indeed other people present in the room.
Elizabeth’s fine eyes, however, were fixed on only one person. “Richard!” Her mouth curved into a lovely smile. Darcy would sacrifice his right arm to see her fix such a gaze upon him just once.
Richard quickly stepped away from Miss Bingley to embrace Elizabeth and kiss her on the cheek, lingering a little longer than was proper. He then took her hand and led her to Miss Bingley. “Miss Bingley, I believe you are acquainted with my betrothed, Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
“B-betrothed?” Miss Bingley stammered. Elizabeth smiled serenely at her, and Darcy had no doubt she was relishing Miss Bingley’s discomfiture as much as he was. The other woman swallowed visibly. “I had not heard. My congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said.
Others were entering behind Elizabeth and were divested of coats and hats by Richard’s servants. A portly man and his well-dressed wife were likely Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle from Cheapside. Miss Bingley’s eyes narrowed when Jane Bennet entered, but Bingley was bouncing on his heels with barely contained excitement. The eldest Miss Bennet smiled sweetly in his direction, and with this slight encouragement, he hastened to her side.
Jane Bennet was often considered to be the most beautiful of the Bennet sisters, but Darcy had always found such sentiment incomprehensible. She was pretty enough, but had none of the animation and sparkle that made Elizabeth so utterly irresistible.
Bitterly, he again cursed himself for interfering between Bingley and Elizabeth’s sister. If Bingley had married Jane months ago, perhaps Elizabeth w
ould not have accepted Richard’s offer. After all, the match may have appealed to Elizabeth since it would provide financial stability to her family. However, the shine in Elizabeth’s eyes as she regarded her betrothed suggested she was not motivated solely by concerns about future security. Could she have ever turned such a look in Darcy’s direction? He would never know.
As Elizabeth spoke with her uncle, her curls bounced, and her skin glowed softly in the candlelight. Darcy was mesmerized. How would it feel to touch that silken hair or creamy shoulders …?
Darcy became aware that Elizabeth was carefully noting every word exchanged between Bingley and her sister. But then, as if suddenly aware of his scrutiny, she turned her gaze toward Darcy and gave him a challenging glare. He returned a smile, hoping to convey his approval for Bingley’s attachment to Jane, but this provoked a look of confusion on Elizabeth’s face.
Why would she regard him with such challenge in her eyes? Unless …
With a growing sense of dread, Darcy stepped over to his cousin and drew him away from the others for a private conversation. “Richard, did you perhaps relate to Miss Elizabeth the story of the friend I rescued from an imprudent match?”
His cousin appeared mystified. “Yes, I believe I mentioned it at Rosings one day. Why do you—?” Horrified realization dawned on his features. “Damnation, Darcy, was that Bingley?”
“Yes, and the woman I separated him from was Miss Jane Bennet.” No wonder Elizabeth disliked him!
“Blast! I did not know.”
“The fault is mine. I should never have told the story.” Or done the deed. Even to his ears, his voice sounded dull and defeated. Here was another fault for Elizabeth to lay at his doorstep, and unlike Wickham’s stories, it was all true.
Richard’s brow was furrowed with worry. “I never revealed the friend’s identity since I did not know it.”
“She could not have failed to discern his identity based on the facts of the story,” Darcy replied. Across the room, everyone laughed at some bon mot of Bingley’s. His friend did indeed seem far happier in Jane’s presence.
“So you objected to Bingley’s marrying Jane but not Elizabeth’s betrothal to me?” Darcy returned his attention to his cousin. Richard’s tone was jovial, but it held a hint of hardness.
“I did not believe Miss Bennet held much affection for Bingley and was only attentive to him at her mother’s insistence.” Darcy glanced away, unable to hold his cousin’s eyes during such an uncomfortable discussion. “However,” Darcy swallowed, “I believe Miss Elizabeth’s affection for you to be genuine. She is not the type to be swayed by mercenary considerations.”
No, she is not, whispered a small voice in the back of Darcy’s mind. And yet I assumed she would accept me for my fortune! It was the not the first time Darcy had castigated himself for his blindness toward Elizabeth’s true feelings.
Richard smiled. “No, not my Lizzy.” Darcy clenched his jaw to prevent any words from emerging. She should be my Lizzy!
Concentrating his attention on the merry gathering around Jane and Bingley, Darcy regained his composure. “I may have been wrong about Miss Jane Bennet as well.”
Richard clapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy admitting to a possible error? Perhaps the apocalypse is nigh!” Darcy scowled at his cousin. It was bad enough he had to endure the consequences of his horrendous misjudgment, but to also endure teasing about it seemed particularly unfair.
Oblivious, Richard merely gave Darcy a sunny smile.
The butler drew Richard away to discuss dining arrangements. Perhaps Darcy could find some brandy. Suddenly, Elizabeth was standing by his side.
“Mr. Darcy.” She gave him a polite, reserved smile.
“Miss Bennet. A pleasure.” He attempted a smile in return but feared it emerged as more of a grimace.
As he gazed into her fine eyes, the realization struck Darcy that he had not consumed enough brandy. Not nearly enough. Perhaps there was not a sufficient quantity of brandy anywhere to fortify him against this experience.
