Jane and Elizabeth had the pleasure of getting ready for the Fitzwilliam’s party in the same room, Mr Turner having dressed earlier and retired downstairs for a glass of port by the fire. He was a hard-working man who rarely had the opportunity to relax and so was content to browse his newspaper and stare into the flames while he waited for his wife.
“So is Mr Darcy returned with the newlyweds, Lizzy? Will he be in attendance tonight do you think?”
“Jane, I have no more idea of whether he will be dining with us tonight than you do. I don’t know why you think I would.”
Jane smiled serenely. “Oh, but you seem on such good terms with him these days.”
“He is a good friend now, which seems odd, I admit, after our past differences. And the party we made at the assembly rooms the other night was very agreeable, so suited, one with the other. I would hope he is there tonight, so we all might enjoy being in such company again.”
Jane smiled.
“Jane, you must stop looking at me so.” Elizabeth had said nothing of Mr Darcy’s note. Although it promised much and gave assurances that excited much pleasure, theirs had been such a long, complicated and fraught relationship as to make Elizabeth wary of giving voice to her dreams. When she saw him next, when it was settled, then she would tell all. When Jane looked at her expectantly, she added, by way of concession. “I confess I enjoy his company. He is a man who I can respect, his knowledge of the world, his steady character, are all pleasing to me.”
Jane’s smile grew broader.
“Stop it. Do not be so suspicious of me. He is merely a man I enjoy talking with. I like his intelligence and although he has not the pleasing, directly engaging manners of other men, he has perhaps other, more valuable qualities, which I greatly admire.”
“You are very cruel, asking me not smile,” said Jane with a shake of her head, “while every sentence you utter provokes me to it. I do so adore these descriptions of his fine character, with not a mention of the fact that he is also very handsome and imposing.”
He was handsome. To Elizabeth he had become the most attractive of all men and the physical pull she felt towards him astonished her. She remembered every single time they had touched over the past few weeks – their fingers brushing accidentally at the dinner table, then his strong hand holding hers when he had bid her goodnight. Their legs bumping underneath the table at Mollands. His hands about her waist when he had lifted her from the gig on the day of the picnic. And the other night, at the assembly, they had touched so much. Not just while dancing, but his hand had often wandered to float over the small of her back, protective and possessive. She had put her hand on his coat sleeve to bring him back to her, whenever his attention had dared to wander elsewhere! He was her Mr Darcy now, wasn’t he? Then he’d bent down to whisper in her ear, asking permission to call and she had shivered, yet was not a bit cold. His nearness excited her and she craved more of it. Caroline Bingley and her ridiculous, unnecessary, untimely farce of an elopement annoyed her more and more with every passing minute.
She was not to be ill tempered tonight, however. Tonight, she hoped, would be a night of sweetness, a night when all that had been wrong would be put right. Elizabeth grabbed her sister’s arm and pulled her till they were both before the looking glass. “How are we, would we pass mamma’s inspection if she were here?”
“You look very lovely, Lizzy,” said Jane laughing, “and very rich.”
“Oh, I will never be even a tenth as lovely as you and my riches are borrowed, your jewellery is your own.” Elizabeth touched the diamond necklace at her throat, once again loaned by Mrs Mountford. Her sister, however, wore sapphires bought for her by Mr Turner.
Jane squeezed her sister’s hand tightly. “I think there is a gentleman waiting nervously in Milsom Street, who will believe you are the loveliest woman in the world tonight and who will not even spare me a second glance. I am also quite certain you will not have to borrow diamonds in future, for he will see to it you have a set all of your own. Stop dissembling, Elizabeth I have been waiting such a long time to see you in love with someone. Although I confess, I am quite surprised at the object of your affections.”
“Not as surprised as I.” Elizabeth admitted. Then her voice was suddenly tremulous. “I am so scared, Jane.”
“You, scared? My brave Lizzy, surely not. Be easy. What scares you?”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “It feels odd, to have to depend on someone else for my happiness.”
“You have always been such an independent character. So self-sufficient that I suppose it must seem strange, but I am afraid that loving and being in love requires a certain amount of surrender. Are you not sure of your affection?”
“I am too sure. I am desperately sure. If something prevents my being with him, or if he should change his mind about me…” Elizabeth shook her head unable to finish, such was the pain these admissions gave her and her sigh was heavy.
“I think there is not a chance of anything like that. Has he not always loved you, for such a long time?” Jane kissed Elizabeth’s forehead and put a soothing hand on her arm. “All will be well.”
Elizabeth wanted to trust in her sister’s assurances. Had she not, in his note, been described as his loveliest, sweetest Elizabeth? Had he not told her his wishes and affections were unchanged from four years previous?
“Elizabeth, be still.” Mrs Mountford commanded.
“I am still.”
“You are not, you fidget. You fuss so much you make the carriage rock more than the cobbles beneath it.”
The journey to Milsom Street was short, it seemed like they had only just entered the carriage when they drew up outside the Fitzwilliam’s townhouse and came to a stop. The fluttering of Elizabeth’s stomach increased and her anxiousness amplified as they were shown up to the drawing room. She looked about for Mr Darcy but he was not present. The Miss Yorkes and the new Mrs Yorke, were all huddled together in a corner and Elizabeth supposed she was to go and give her congratulations but was saved from doing so by Lady Fitzwilliam, who bid her to take a seat by her side. Mrs Mountford took Jane and Mr Turner off to introduce them to their host.
When she had settled herself onto the well-plumped, gilt edged settee, Lady Fitzwilliam leaned in for greater confidence.
“You must forgive the younger gentlemen, Miss Bennet. They have been holed up together for many hours on a matter of business. They will join us shortly I am sure, now your party is here. Darcy, I know, left word with the footman to be informed of your arrival.”
Elizabeth looked at her shoes.
“What think you of this whole business of running off to Scotland to marry on the quick without family approval?” Asked the Countess. “I trust you would never agree to such a scheme?”
Elizabeth was startled by the question and thought carefully on her answer. “No, I think I would not. However, do not each and every one of us have our own peculiarities of circumstance and character that might make us act in very different ways to different situations? I would not like to say I would ‘never’ do such a thing, maybe there are incidences or states I might find myself in that would prompt such rashness, but I would not do it by choice.”
“I think you are too generous, Miss Bennet. I believe it is merely the case that some people are silly and irresponsible and some people are not.”
Elizabeth was amused. “Tis rather a hypothetical question in my case anyway, Lady Fitzwilliam. I have not the opportunity to act so. In order to be a runaway bride, one requires a bridegroom.”
Lady Fitzwilliam laughed and then gave her an odd look. “Yes, of course. I must admit to being somewhat surprised at Mr Yorke’s choice. For some time I thought his affections tended in another direction.”
Elizabeth smiled to show she understood. “Perhaps, but it seems they took a little detour, to the satisfaction of all concerned.”
“Well, perhaps not all.” Lady Fitzwilliam inclined her head towards the elder Mr Yorke who sat glowering in the corner. “It seems the twenty thousand pounds Miss Bingley came with is to be paid in instalments - very small instalments. Poor Darcy has been cooped up all day trying to make peace and arrange matters to everybody’s satisfaction.”
“The Bingley’s were not able to honour the dowry?” Elizabeth said, surprised. “I always thought them wealthy.”
“Charles Bingley has spent a great deal of money propping up his wife’s estate in Surrey. Yorke’s father fumes about it. They’ve had nothing so far and are not likely to have anything until Michaelmas.”
“It seems so sad that the joy of their wedding is so quickly soured by talk of money.”
“I suppose, which is why it is better to do things properly. To settle matters before the marriage takes place. Mr Yorke has been hasty and a little greedy I think. If you will permit me saying so, you have had a lucky escape.”
Elizabeth made no reply. It was not a subject she wanted to dwell on so she changed it. “When will the Colonel be married?”
“Next month.” Lady Fitzwilliam’s countenance brightened considerably at the thought. “He is to be married in London and we travel down for it once we quit Bath.”
“And then they will settle at Rosings?”
“Yes, thanks to Darcy’s generosity. He is an exceptionally good man. He has made many sacrifices for his family. I speak not only of Rosings but of his marriage.”
“You speak of it as a sacrifice?”
“I do. I do not know all the particulars but was most surprised at the engagement. Despite Lady Catherine’s insistence, I never thought him inclined towards his cousin. She took Anne to London for a season, despite her ill health and hawked her around, pushing her at every titled fop and nasty little fortune hunter she could find. Darcy came forward and offered to put a stop to it. I think he did it out of kindness for Anne.”
Elizabeth realised her mouth hung open in a most unladylike fashion and closed it.
Lady Fitzwilliam patted her hand. “Now you know all our family secrets, I hope we may dispense with Miss Bennet and I might call you Elizabeth?”
“Oh, of course, I am flattered, Lady Fitzwilliam.”
And then he entered. Just as she was reeling from what she had heard, she saw the drawing room door open out of the corner of her eye and saw his neatly pressed trouser leg; the shine on a shoe that she was sure was his. She realised she knew his tread, the weight of his step above all others. Yet she could not look around. She felt the eyes of the room upon her. Jane and Mrs Mountford’s, even Lady Fitzwilliam’s gaze seemed set her way. She felt a blush rise from her chest and willed it gone, though she had no hope of quelling it completely.
It was upon this moment of consciousness that Mrs Yorke intruded, though Elizabeth was still somehow aware of Mr Darcy and where he was in the room. She knew he had gone towards her sister to say hello. She meanwhile curtseyed to the new Mrs Yorke. “My congratulations, I wish you much joy.”
“Thank you, dear Miss Eliza. I am all happiness. I hope our rather sudden departure from Bath did not cause any distress, we simply could not wait.”
“Oh, no distress on my part I can assure you. I cannot say how it might have inconvenienced others.”
The new Mrs Yorke’s brow furrowed. “Well, there is no better husband to be found I can assure you. May I wish you better luck next time.”
Elizabeth heard Lady Fitzwilliam’s intake of breath at this effrontery, but she chose to ignore it herself. “You are all kindness, Mrs Yorke.” The woman would be gone away to Devonshire soon enough and Elizabeth had no wish to parry with her, though dozens of rebuttals came to mind. The drawing room door opened again and she turned when she heard her name called out.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet, well, I do not believe it. I had no idea. Darcy did not mention I might see you here.” Mr Bingley’s blue eyes were wide as he approached and smiled and bowed to all the ladies, yet in particular to her.
She could not help but return his smile, for he was all genuine surprise and artless pleasure. “I am surprised you still recognise me, sir.”
“Oh, I do not forget old friends so easily. So, you are in Bath, have you been here some weeks?”
“Yes, quite some time, long enough to be thinking of going away again soon.”
“Well, and I have just arrived. I have come on my own quite suddenly and unexpectedly…because of my sister’s….” He knew not how to finish this sentence and it hung in the air.
“Her marriage, sir, yes, I was just offering Mrs Yorke my congratulations.” Elizabeth motioned towards Caroline Yorke.
Mr Bingley then began such an absurdly loquacious speech about the pleasures of seeing her again - her cousin Mr Collins might have struggled to match the like. While she half listened to this, her gaze drifted over his shoulder and her eye at last met Mr Darcy’s. Of all the expressions she expected to see him wear, panic was not one of them. He looked back at her anxiously, and somewhat apologetically, as his gaze floated between her sister and Mr Bingley.
When Mr Bingley at last finished speaking, Elizabeth, seeing the uncomfortable business was best got over with sooner than later, took his elbow and steered him across the room, muttering her excuses to the other ladies. “There is another old friend here tonight. You will remember my sister Jane, Mr Bingley.”
Jane was not unprepared for the approach and had noticed Bingley already. Bingley however, flustered. “Oh yes, of course, Miss…”
“Mrs Turner,” Elizabeth corrected quickly. “And may I present Mr Turner to you, her husband,” she added, biting her lip to stifle her amusement at the expression of alarm on Bingley’s face. Mr Turner bowed curtly and did not offer his hand to be shook as he had done to Mr Darcy. Elizabeth wondered whether Bingley’s name was familiar to him as Jane’s former suitor. Lord knows her mother had thrown it up in lament at Longbourn often enough times for him to remember it.
The meeting was got through easily enough otherwise, with general enquiries into health and family and largely due to Jane’s excellent and easy manners. After a suitable amount of time, Bingley wandered away. Darcy looked quickly at Elizabeth and followed his friend.