Mr. Darcy! What was he doing here? Of the hundreds of booksellers in London, of the stores on this street—how could they both walk into the same one, on the same day, at the same hour? It seemed beyond possibility! Elizabeth’s mind clouded with panic and she could no longer keep her confusion and bewilderment over the coincidence untangled in her mind.
She had been proud that she’d kept her composure long enough to politely extract herself from the conversation with—she now knew—Georgiana Darcy. For she must be Georgiana. She had the same eyes as her brother and matched every physical description she had ever heard.
Elizabeth shook herself. Why must she think of Mr. Darcy’s eyes now?
She had been doing such a good job of not brooding over the man, of putting him out of her mind, and forgetting the regrettable time they had shared at Rosings. When she arrived in London, she determined it would be best to set aside everything that had happened in Kent as if it were a bad dream.
But to have him show up here! It threatened to undo all of her work and all of her determination. She had to get out of here before he noticed her. For, although the shelves were tall, the shop was quite small and offered little in the way of secure hiding places.
And Mr. Darcy knew Jane! If he were to see her, he would ask after Elizabeth, and then she would be forced to pretend that she had not been hiding. And pretend that she hadn’t rejected his proposal. And pretend that she was glad to see their casual acquaintance first met in Hertfordshire.
Maria and Jane were pouring over the same fashion magazine, and she was grateful to find them together.
At the sight of her sister, another horrible thought entered her mind: What would Mr. Darcy say if he did see her sister? After all, he thought so little of Jane that he had forced Mr. Bingley to leave the county to avoid entanglement! She desperately wanted to trust that his manners would prevent outright rudeness, but she could not say for certain. A new motivation entered her mind—saving Jane from confronting the man.
Mr. Darcy’s letter following her refusal had done much to temper Elizabeth’s anger, but the issue of Jane and Mr. Bingley was the one area for which he had no apologies. Elizabeth regretted much of what she had said in those minutes of her refusal, but none of those regrets went so far as excusing his interference in her beloved sister’s happiness.
“We must leave,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady and calm. Jane looked up in surprise and examined her sister. Elizabeth knew at once that Jane could see through her calm exterior.
“Lizzy?” Jane asked, concern in her voice. “What’s the matter?”
Jane’s eyes sought her own. Elizabeth could not fully explain, not with Maria eagerly listening, so she instead attempted to communicate her need to leave through a series of pointed looks.
“Nothing,” Elizabeth said with a forced smile. She must attempt to distract Maria Lucas. “I’ve suddenly become quite tired, that’s all.”
“Elizabeth,” Maria whined. “You made such a fuss about coming here, and we’ve barely been here ten minutes!” She held up the magazine in her hands. “You know we don’t have this in Meryton and Papa would never approve of my buying it, so this is my only chance to see what the ladies are wearing this season!”
“I’ll make it up to you,” Elizabeth said hurriedly, glancing over her shoulder. With a thrill of dread, she saw that Georgiana Darcy was making her way to the shopkeeper. “I promise. Next, we’ll do anything you want!”
“Anything?” Maria said, arching her eyebrow suspiciously.
“Anything,” Jane confirmed. Elizabeth knew that her sister did not know exactly what had her in such a state, but she appreciated Jane’s support in the mystery.
“Well,” Maria said slowly. “Alright. But remember you promised!”
Elizabeth nodded hastily. She gratefully linked arms with Jane and Maria and moved towards the door. As the door loomed closer, the pressure weighing Elizabeth down seemed to lift more and more with each step. Only five more steps to the door. Three. They were going to make it! Two. Elizabeth reached out her hand to pull the door open when a voice suddenly broke into her awareness.
“Miss Elizabeth?” She allowed her hand to drop without touching the door. Swallowing hard, she set her shoulders back, gathered what courage she had left about her, and turned to the owner of the familiar voice.
“Mr. Darcy,” she replied, unlinking her arms from Maria and Jane, and slipping into a smooth curtsy. “What a surprise to see you here.”