He hadn’t meant to call out her name. The name he hadn’t even dared to think of a moment before. But now that he had seen her—and this time, recognised it truly was her and not a mere figment of his imagination—it had slipped out before he could stop it.
The woman. Miss Elizabeth.
All of the sadness and anger of the last few weeks came rushing back to him, but after a moment, he realised that the anger dissipated even more quickly than it had come. He was not angry with her. The conclusion was shocking, but comforting. He did not like the idea of being angry with someone he still loved.
After the shock of seeing her faded, he also recognised that he was pleased to see her. She was still beautiful. Still charming. Still intelligent. Still everything that he had come to admire about her.
The hours after her rejection had been brutal. Never before had he borne such pain and anger—he had not sought to relieve his feelings with his fists for years, but in those moments, he had pummelled a post until his knuckles were raw. In the present, he was keenly aware that his hands still carried the faint traces of bruises. When the physical exertion had done nothing for his pain, he’d sat down and written a letter.
A letter. More than one, for his first attempts had not communicated anything other than anger and disdain. Feelings that she had first shown him, to be certain, but not what he had wanted to return to her. It had taken him hours, but when he’d finally set down his pen, he thought he might have acquitted himself of her most heinous accusations.
The process had proved to be positive. As his anger had flowed from his heart to the page, he found that understanding took its place. Every one of her observations about his behaviour, his treatment of her family, his condescension, his arrogance… She had been correct. Brutally so, but correct all the same. It was a bitter understanding to come to, and the bitterness had not faded in the following weeks.
He had hand-delivered his letter: outlining the true story of Wickham, his interference with Miss Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley, his explanations of pride. He had put it into her own hand, but whether she had read it, he could not say. However, that process had truly relieved him of his anger. His pleasure at finding her in this tucked-away bookshop was genuine.
“Miss Elizabeth? Do you know each other?” Georgiana asked curiously, looking from her brother to the stranger still standing in front of the door. Darcy, having not yet informed his sister of his failed suit, wracked his brain trying to determine how to answer her question.
“We met while he was staying in Hertfordshire,” Elizabeth said smoothly, saving Darcy the trouble of answering. She looked at him with eyes he could not read. “However, it is most unexpected to run into him here.”
She gave him a small smile, and the simple gesture warmed his heart—foolishly, he knew.
“I should say so!” Jane Bennet added, clearly as surprised to see him here as he was to encounter them. “It is quite wonderful to see you again, Mr. Darcy.” She too smiled and gave a curtsy. “Are you in town for long?”
“No,” he cleared his throat. “Not for long. Just a short visit as I make my way home to Derbyshire. Please, I’ve been rude.” He held out his hand to Georgiana. “Allow me to introduce my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy. Georgiana, this is Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and Miss Maria Lucas.”
The four ladies curtsied and inclined their heads to one another. Maria Lucas seemed quite pleased to be included in his introductions, although Darcy could not claim to know her well at all despite her visits to Rosings Park. His mind had been too occupied with Elizabeth at the time.
“Well, Miss Elizabeth, I am glad I have the opportunity to thank you once more for my book!” Georgiana smiled up at her brother. “Though, I think, perhaps my brother is far more grateful than I! Our search has been long, and no matter how kind and understanding he is, and I fear he could not abide another shop today.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I quite understand his pain! However, your thanks are completely unnecessary. I was not intending to purchase that book, and I am far more gratified to know that such beautiful words will be in the possession of one who will appreciate them even more than myself.”
“Are you long in town?” Darcy asked Jane, allowing Elizabeth and Georgiana to converse without interruption.
“I’ve been here several weeks, with my aunt and uncle Gardiner,” Jane replied quietly. “Elizabeth and Maria arrived yesterday from a visit to Maria’s sister in Kent. I believe you know her? She is married to our cousin Mr. Collins, whom you met in Meryton.”
“Of course, he knows her,” Maria broke in, a bit rudely in Darcy’s opinion. “We had the pleasure of dining with Mr. Darcy and his aunt several times during our stay with Charlotte.”
Darcy noticed that Elizabeth had abruptly halted her conversation with Georgiana and was listening intently to his and Jane’s exchange.
“I had no idea you were in Kent, Mr. Darcy!” Jane replied, arching an eyebrow toward her sister. “Elizabeth had not mentioned the fact.”
“Did she not?” Darcy asked, glancing towards the reddening Elizabeth Bennet. “Yes, my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam and I were visiting our aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh at Rosings Park.”
“I could have sworn I’d mentioned that, Jane,” Elizabeth said, sounding strained. “I’m sure I must have…”
“What luck to have run into friends of yours, brother!” Georgiana said quickly. Despite her age, she was an observant young woman, and Darcy suspected that she saw how uncomfortable Elizabeth was becoming under Jane’s eye, and had purposely entered the conversation.
Darcy felt a flash of embarrassment at causing Elizabeth such discomfort. Georgiana turned to face the three women.
“I am glad to know that my brother has made friends. I worry about him sometimes,” Georgiana patted his arm as she spoke, and her words were oddly motherly although he was nearly twice her age. Now, Darcy’s blush was not for Elizabeth’s embarrassment but for his own.
“As you are in town,” he said, cutting off Georgiana from continuing whatever she had to say next. “You must come and dine with us. And your aunt and uncle, of course, must join as well.”
The invitation came almost automatically, but it was a genuine extension of hospitality. He was curious to meet Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle: she had only mentioned them in passing, but Darcy had the impression that they were far more sensible than some of Elizabeth’s other relations.
“Oh, yes!” Georgiana agreed excitedly. “It has been far too long since we had visitors. Please, say you’ll come!”
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged a look between them, as if silently asking the other’s opinion.
“We’d be honoured to join you,” Jane said, smiling. “I’m sure my aunt and uncle will be glad to accept your invitation as well. Name the day, and we shall attend with joy.”
Darcy bowed his head to Jane, feeling awkward about talking with this Bennet sister. It had taken him a long while to become comfortable conversing with Elizabeth and he had not yet gained such comfort with her sister. Besides all that, it was difficult to talk to Jane without thinking of Charles.
Last he saw of his friend, the poor man had still seemed quite miserable. However, Darcy still maintained that he had done the right thing. Anyone could see that Jane was a sweet girl, it was evident even standing there in the bookshop. But sweetness did not translate into regard—especially not the sort of regard and affection that Charles deserved from marriage.
“Would tomorrow be convenient for you?” Darcy asked.
Jane again glanced at Elizabeth, and Darcy saw Elizabeth give a small, almost imperceptible, nod.
“Tomorrow will be just fine,” Jane replied.
“Excellent,” Darcy said, breathing a sigh of relief. It was not until the invitation was accepted that he realised he had been afraid it would not. Despite his resolution to put Elizabeth Bennet behind him, the prospect of her turning down another of his invitations—however small and innocent this one was—caused him anxiety. “If you’ll tell me your aunt and uncle’s address, I shall send you a note with all the details.”
“Gracechurch Street,” Elizabeth answered, taking over the conversation from Jane. “My uncle is in trade and they live near his warehouse.”
She said this with a slight lift to her chin. He met her eyes, and he felt the challenge she offered. Given his recent attacks on the status of her family, Darcy did not think this challenge was unwarranted. However, Darcy ignored the invitation she offered for comment. There was nothing wrong with making a living by trade, and he would prove to her that he believed it.
“You will have the details first thing tomorrow,” Darcy said. “If your aunt and uncle are unable to attend, please know that you will be welcome at any time that is convenient to you.”
“You are too kind, Mr. Darcy,” Jane said with a nod of her head. “And you, Miss Darcy.”
“I look forward to speaking with you more,” Georgiana said, smiling widely. “Perhaps we shall read from my new book. Would you like that, Miss Elizabeth?”
“I would,” Elizabeth said, returning Georgiana’s smile. “I suppose we will see you tomorrow. But for now, we must go. Our aunt and uncle will be expecting us.” She dropped into a curtsy. “Good day, Mr. Darcy. Miss Darcy.”
Before either of them could respond, she had pulled open the door and disappeared onto the street. Jane and Maria quickly made their goodbyes and followed her out onto the street.
“Whoever would have expected to find them here?” Georgiana said in wonderment. “Sometimes, I wonder if London is quite as large as we think it is.”
“I cannot comment upon the coincidence of meeting an acquaintance in a shop,” Darcy replied, opening the door himself. He looked out at the milling masses of humanity walking past the open shop door. “However, I think the size of the city is most accurate.”