Elizabeth turned to face her friend. “I am quite certain I understand why he is so convinced, Serena. He must have somehow either overhead part of my conversation with Nicholas on the terrace at Lady Bellingham’s...” she closed her eyes again, remembering, then opened them to stare at her friend in dismay. “Or he saw something that he misinterpreted! Oh dear Lord.”
Elizabeth began to pace again. “Nicholas told me that evening how he had asked you to marry him. I was so delighted I did not give him chance to explain the full story, but threw myself at him.” Elizabeth put a hand to her head. “There were people outside, of course there were, but we were out of sight in the main, and only someone who leant over the parapet could have observed us. Indeed, they would have had to overhear the tiniest portion of our conversation to still deduce such a thing, for of course, the subject of our discourse was entirely you and Nicholas, not me.”
“There is something further, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth stopped her pacing and walked over to where her friend sat on the bed.
“What?” She watched as her friend bit her lip, her expression anxious. “What further do you know?”
“He is leaving the country. They are to depart on Thursday next from Bristol. I know not for how long or any further details, for I did not linger beyond that point. You were right – he has quite given you up, but not because of what you feared – because he believes there is nothing to hope for, that you are taken.”
Sinking onto the bed beside Serena, Elizabeth put a hand to her face, conscious of how cold her skin suddenly felt. Might she never see him again?
“Lizzy,” Serena took one of her friend’s hands in her own. “You do not look at all well. Let me get you some wine.”
“No!” Getting quickly to her feet, Elizabeth shook her head. “I am quite well, I assure you. I know not what I can do or say, but I must see him before we quit here. He must be made aware of the truth.”
Walking over to the window as if in a daze, Elizabeth stared across the field to the end house in Brock Street. Was this the way of it? Would she depart for Somerset, and he be gone from the country and henceforth from her life?
Just then, a servant knocked upon the door and as the hot water for bathing was ferried in, both girls turned their attention to getting ready for the evening and, in the presence of the maid, there was little else that could be said. Once she had finished her ministrations to their hair, however, and left the room, Serena turned to her friend.
“You are right; you must reveal the truth to him. I am sure it is what drives him to behave as he is.”
Elizabeth shook her head and walked over to the dresser. “I have had time now to reflect upon it, and I do not see that it alters anything. He distanced himself before Nicholas and I went out onto the terrace; I have told you so.”
“And I believe you misinterpret his reasons for that detachment, that it was not distance per se, merely distraction.”
Letting out a pent up breath, Elizabeth shook her head. “Fine. Let us not debate the finer points, for we shall never agree.”
“But you must tell him, Lizzy.” Serena walked over to her friend and turned her back to her so that she might fasten the buttons of her gown. “He has a right to know at least that you are not betrothed.”
Elizabeth feigned concentration on the tiny fastenings of Serena’s dress. Of course he must be told. It was a falsehood and needed correction. So why did she not wish it to be her that delivered the intelligence? Because you are afraid, whispered a voice in her head. You have been given reason to hope, and you do not wish to see that it means little or nothing to him, that hope is futile.
“There,” she patted Serena on the shoulder and turned her about to look in the full length mirror. “You look lovely, and Nicholas will be very proud.”
Serena sent her a grateful smile and limped over to the bed to put on her slippers. Then, she stood up and looked over to where Elizabeth was fastening a necklace before stepping over to inspect her own appearance in the mirror.
“Lizzy?”
Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder.
“When you told me about Mr Darcy – about what he had done for your family and of his troubled past in relation to Mr Wickham – you said, if I recall correctly, that there was a time when you believed he held you in high esteem.”
Saying nothing, Elizabeth turned to stare into the full-length mirror once more, certain that Serena could not fail to note the rising colour in her cheeks.
“Was it a long time ago? Both ladies today alluded to Mr Darcy’s former interest in you.”
Unable to prevent it, Elizabeth winced at this confirmation of his having put his regard for her into the past.
“How long has your acquaintance been in existence, that you can claim an earlier affection from him that you now profess to have lost?” Serena paused. “The older lady did not seem to believe it – that he had lost his inclination.”
Elizabeth realised how deeply she wished it to be so. Then, she turned to face Serena.
“There is something I have not told you; something that I have kept from you.” With a frustrated gesture of her hand, Elizabeth walked over to the bed and dropped down heavily onto it, her head down-bent. Concerned, Serena hurried to her side, perching herself beside her and taking one of her hands in her own. She leaned down, trying to see Elizabeth’s visage.
“What is it? Dear Lizzy, please talk to me.”
Elizabeth raised her head and smiled ruefully at Serena. “You ask how long ago was it, that I last understood Mr Darcy’s feelings for me. What if I told you that it was but two weeks back?”
Serena stared at her incredulously. “A fortnight? Only fourteen days ago, this man had feelings for you, yet now you claim he has none?”
“You do not understand. You have no notion of what has transpired…”
Serena got to her feet and stood in front of her friend, forcing her to look up at her. “No, I do not. But I will, if you choose to let me. Tell me, Lizzy. Tell me what could possibly have happened in the past two weeks to alter things so radically.”
With a reluctant smile, Elizabeth nodded. “I will. But be warned, you are likely to be amazed. You may wish to be seated whilst I relate this tale.”
~o0o~
Despite his cousin’s assertion that the Harington party was too lately arrived at Bath to secure such a number of seats to the recital, Darcy could not help but search every group of people within the hall at St Swithens for a sight of either Elizabeth or Harington.
Even when it became clear that his cousin had the truth of it and they had been spared the ignominy of a strained evening in company with each other, he could not stop looking for her, and the sense of disappointment that gripped him when in every case he was unsuccessful only served to reinforce how much he wished to lay eyes upon her.
Fortunately, the music was of an excellent standard, and for a time, Darcy allowed it to take over, and he was able to reflect upon how much pleasanter it was to be in Bath as opposed to London. Admittedly, it was the end of the Season, and thus there were fewer people about in general, and those in attendance certainly were not the more aggressive of the social climbers one encountered in Town – his aunt certainly had the right of it when she had said people of fashion would not be in Bath at this time of year. For this very reason, however, Darcy realised that it made life much easier for him, and more feasible for his sister to attend some smaller engagements, bearing in mind she had yet to come out.
This reminder of Georgiana’s welfare was timely, for it aided Darcy in his attempts to push thoughts of Elizabeth and what she might be doing that evening with the Haringtons to one side and focus upon his sister instead.
Thus it was that as soon as the interval arrived, he left the Colonel to seek refreshments and made a concerted effort to discuss the performance with his sister and to study the remainder of the programme for the evening. Upon Fitzwilliam’s return, he accepted a glass of wine from him with a smile that was briefly delivered but genuine and gave the second movement almost all the attention it deserved.
~o0o~
Nicholas had been concerned about Elizabeth for some days now, and he eyed his friend thoughtfully as the family dinner drew to a close. The gentlemen had eschewed separating from the ladies, the occasion being what it was and they being such a close-knit party, and he poured himself a port from the decanter before passing it to Patrick, his eye still upon the lady who had now risen from her seat and walked over to the small pianoforte against the far wall.
Both she and Serena, despite having excused themselves earlier that they might prepare for the evening, had been so tardy at arriving downstairs that his mother had gone up to find out what was delaying them. Serena had thrown him an apologetic look when they had entered the room, but Elizabeth, despite her attempts to prove otherwise, had looked quite out of sorts.
That her spirits were troubled he could tell. They had not been close friends all these years without him noticing such a detail, and as Elizabeth had by nature such a sunny disposition, any lowering of her mood was most apparent to those who knew and loved her best.
Suddenly conscious of a dig at his side, he turned quickly to look at Serena, who inclined her head towards Elizabeth and whispered, “I must speak with you in private. Can we find a way?”
Nicholas narrowed his gaze as he looked at her, then nodded quickly and turned to address his mother.
“Shall we not adjourn to the drawing room, Mama? The instrument there is far superior, and so, I must own, is the seating!”
With a laugh, Mrs Harington nodded. “Of course, my dear. Lizzy.” She turned to address Elizabeth, who looked up and stopped playing as she saw people getting to their feet.
“Oh dear,” she laughed, though it did not reach her eyes, something Nicholas was quick to note. “Is my playing so dire, that the room is to be vacated?”
Everyone laughed with her, but Mr Harington was the first to answer. “Far from it, my dear. You play delightfully, and we will impose upon you to continue once we are upstairs.” He walked over and offered her his arm and the rest of the family followed them out into the hall, and in the confusion of noise and movement, Nicholas waited until there was only himself and Serena remaining before he pushed the door to and returned to where she still sat at the table.
“Come,” he held out his hand which she took with alacrity. “Let us sit over here. We shall have very little time before we are missed.”
They settled themselves on a small sofa, and Nicholas retained his hold upon her hand, raising it and pressing it to his lips for a moment. “We have had so little opportunity to be together.”
Serena blushed, but squeezed his hand. “I know. I hope that things will be better once we are back at Sutton Coker.”
Nicholas raised a hand and brushed a lock of hair from her cheek before bending to kiss her.
“Come, let us talk of Lizzy, before I become too distracted.”
Serena, her blush intensifying, nodded, and quickly set before Nicholas what she had heard earlier that day, forestalling his immediate astonishment over the mistaken engagement by telling him further of Elizabeth’s affection for Mr Darcy and thus why the situation caused such heartache for their friend. Of the rejected proposal she said nothing. Elizabeth had given her leave to share with Nicholas the intelligence of the rumour that was about and had reluctantly agreed to him being told of her feelings for the gentleman, but beyond that, she begged Serena not to go.
“And what about the inference of this overheard conversation? Does Darcy hold an interest in Lizzy? Why has no one said anything of the sort? It would be a fair prospect for her, that is to be certain, but would she care for him? She has never shown a particular preference that I have noticed.” He paused and then shrugged. “But then, I have seen little of them in company with each other, so who am I to judge?”
Serena bit her lip. “All I know is that he must be told. Yet I cannot see how to effect the revelation.”
“We cannot call upon the Darcys’ home at this hour of night, and you know a social call cannot be contemplated on the Sabbath. Besides, even if it were so, how is such a subject to be raised?”
With a sigh, Serena recalled her friend’s support of her only recently, when she herself had been equally adamant that nothing could be done to right her relationship with Nicholas.
“There must be something.” She stared up at him, her eyes wide, and he shook his head at her.
“I cannot refuse you when you look at me so.” He leant forward and brushed her lips with his own, then sighed. “Let me consider the matter; I am certain we can come up with something.”
Their ruminations, however, were given no further time to progress, for at that moment the door was pushed open and with a mild admonishment, Mrs Harington ordered them from the room and to re-join the company, throwing Nicholas a warning look as they passed which left little impression, that gentleman bestowing a warm kiss on his mother’s cheek before taking Serena’s hand and leading her up the stairs to the drawing room.