Darcy stepped out before the encore and waited for his family in the narrow passageway near the stairs, where he paced as much as the small space allowed. He had stared so much at Elizabeth Bennet during the third and fourth acts that he was surprised she had not noticed his gaze upon her. She had been captivated by the performance, however; her eyes had been transfixed on the stage. He had looked at her to criticize and had, indeed, found fault. She was too short, he had decided - she barely came above his shoulder. And she was so very slim - a man needed something to hold onto, did he not? Her hair was never quite perfect - there was always a curl come loose somewhere. There was nothing spectacular about her face, he thought briefly, before conceding that she did have a lovely smile, he would grant her that much, and although he could not see them from across the theatre, he remembered her expressive dark eyes only too well. Yet, there was nothing that should have caused him to be as obsessive about her as he had been; to have almost lost his mind. It had taken a year for the pain of her refusal to dull. Perhaps another year before thoughts of her had stopped intruding his consciousness several times a day. Eventually, finally, he had banished her to the back of his mind, and there he had been hoping she would stay.
He had a great desire to be gone, not only from the theatre, but from Bath. Yet when the seemingly never-ending applause finally died down, the Fitzwilliams exited their box in a cumbersome and slow manner, further darkening his mood. The Earl required shaking awake and by the time they were ready to depart, the theatre had almost emptied. They were nearly at the bottom of the stairs when Georgiana turned to her brother with a crestfallen look and confessed she had left her wrap on the back of her chair. Darcy sighed heavily and said they should go on without him. He would catch them up in short order.
The crush and clamour to leave the theatre was even worse than the keenness and crowding to enter it had been, but despite this, the two parties happened to meet on the outside steps of the theatre, each awaiting their carriages. The Colonel moved towards Elizabeth, she held out her hand to him and they greeted each other like old friends.
“I shall not ask if you are well, Miss Bennet, because it is very evident to me you are. And I shall not ask you how you like Bath, because your enjoyment of it is written in your smile. There now, we have some of the tediousness out of the way.”
Elizabeth laughed readily, delighted at his easy manner. It was if they had only seen each other yesterday. “And I shall not ask you how long you have been in Bath, Colonel. It is obvious you have not long arrived, as this is the first time I have seen you. Has that dispensed with tediousness altogether?”
“I dare say it has. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you! I very much hope I have not arrived just as you are going?”
“I am at the bidding of my aunt, Colonel, who can be a little impulsive at times, but I believe we are to stay a few weeks yet.”
“That is excellent news. I hope we will see you often. Though you must check my tendency for flirting with you, Miss Bennet, for I am an engaged man.”
“Is that so? Well I am very happy for you. Will she come to Bath? I am very keen to meet the lady who has finally tempted you into matrimony.”
The Colonel laughed. “No, she has deemed Bath insufficient for her shopping needs and has remained in London with her dear mamma to buy wedding clothes. I hear you have met Georgiana.”
At the mention of her name and encouraged by the Colonel, Georgiana stepped shyly forward, with the ever-present Caroline Bingley at her elbow, and greetings were exchanged.
“Did you enjoy the operetta, Miss Darcy?” Elizabeth enquired of her.
“Very much, I was so moved by the music and surprised at the humour. It is the first I have attended. So different from the classical style, the more dramatic, full operas I mean, and I was so surprised to hear it sung in the composers own language!”
“I confess I do not like this modernisation,” Miss Bingley opined, “this appealing to the masses. Opera should always be in Italian. The French language does not lend itself to opera.”
“What say you of German though, Miss Bingley?” Elizabeth asked.
“Well, I have not heard a German opera, but I do not think I would enjoy it either, such a harsh, coarse language.”
Elizabeth, Georgiana and the Colonel shared a look of amusement; all of them too well bred to embarrass Caroline Bingley by telling her she had just sat through four acts of a German operetta. Had she listened to it? Had she paid the bill any attention at all?
The conversation was moved on by Elizabeth asking Georgiana about what entertainment she had last seen, and whether she had been lucky enough to have heard a particular concert she herself had enjoyed immensely, when last in London.
“Oh no,” Georgiana bit her lip. “I am afraid this is the first thing I have been lucky to see in such a long time. I have not been in London above a year. I, we…that is. We have been living very quietly in Kent and at Pemberley since…it has been a sad time, of course.”
Elizabeth looked at the Colonel, concerned at the distress she had unwittingly caused Miss Darcy, and confused as to the cause of it. He opened his mouth to speak but they were interrupted by the Viscountess, who bid Elizabeth to introduce her to her friends, which she did, much to the obvious pleasure of Miss Bingley.
All of this was watched by Darcy from a distance. He had located Georgiana’s wrap easily and hurried through the theatre only to stop at the doors. He was suddenly very angry at the sight that greeted him. He had thought she would have left by the time he had made his way downstairs. Yet there she was; being jovial with his cousin, smiling sweetly at Georgiana and arching her eyebrow at Miss Bingley. How dare she perform the most graceful of low curtsies when introduced to his aunt and uncle. In fact, damn her! Damn her for refusing him. Damn her for calling him ‘ungentlemanlike’. Damn her for saying he was the last man in the world she could ever be prevailed on to marry. Damn her, because this was the first time in so long that he had been to any public event or mixed with anybody outside his immediate family circle and she had appeared! It was intolerable.
It was only after he had watched her take her leave and board the Viscountess’ carriage that he descended the steps to reunite his sister with her wayward garment. Then he clasped his hands behind his back and damned Elizabeth Bennet one more time for good measure, because despite his intense scrutiny, and his determination to find fault, the truth was that tonight, well - she looked far lovelier than he ever remembered her being.