Pride and Proposals

There was a commotion at the drawing room door as the butler announced the Earl and Countess of Matlock and Georgiana, who had been visiting them for the day. Richard and Elizabeth rose to greet the newcomers. Darcy quickly crossed the room to take Georgiana’s hand.

His aunt and uncle greeted Elizabeth with cold civility. While not as unmannerly as Aunt Catherine, they clearly opposed Richard’s betrothal. Elizabeth chose to ignore their disapproval, returning their indifference with a sly smile and blithely introducing the earl and countess to her uncle in trade. Her lips twitched in amusement while the earl shook Mr. Gardiner’s hand as if the man carried the plague.

Viewing his aunt and uncle through Elizabeth’s eyes, he could understand her levity. The Gardiners were well informed and of good understanding—the kind of company anyone would desire. Darcy could only pray his relatives did not have the opportunity for a lengthy conversation with Mrs. Bennet.

When the earl and countess took Richard away for a private conversation, Darcy seized the opportunity and escorted Georgiana over to Elizabeth.

“Miss Elizabeth, may I present my sister, Georgiana, to you?” The two women curtsied. Elizabeth’s smile was warm and genuine; Richard must have shared the plan to coax Georgiana out of her shell.

“Richard tells me you like music,” Elizabeth said to Georgiana.

“Yes.” Although she seemed eager to converse with Elizabeth, Georgiana’s voice was barely louder than a whisper. Darcy silently cursed Wickham again. Ever since the incident at Ramsgate, his sister had retreated into herself. Always shy, she was now particularly anxious in large gatherings. She resisted any attempts to have her attend social outings, and Darcy was at a loss about how he would arrange her coming out. “But please do not ask me to play in front of all these people,” Georgiana murmured.

“Not if you do not wish it!” Elizabeth seemed appalled at the suggestion.

Brushing hair from his eyes, Darcy could not help glancing at his aunt. She often insisted that Georgiana needed to exhibit her talent. Darcy had repeatedly asked his aunt to cease, but she listened to him as well as she listened to anyone—which is to say, not at all.

Elizabeth linked arms with Georgiana. “Why do you not rest here by me and tell me which composers you favor?” Georgiana gave Elizabeth a relieved smile and sank easily onto the loveseat. Soon they were engaged in a quiet, enthusiastic conversation.

Darcy savored the sight of the two women he loved most in the world enjoying each other’s company. Perhaps something good would come from this fiasco.

Instinctively, he had known that Elizabeth’s liveliness and sportive good humor were exactly what Georgiana needed to heal the wounds Wickham had inflicted. Darcy had done what he could, but his own social talents were meager at best, and Georgiana needed another woman’s counsel.

The guests were soon summoned into the dining room for the repast. Darcy was indeed seated with Elizabeth, who took the mistress’s place at the foot of the table, with Darcy’s aunt on her other side. The countess commenced to instruct Georgiana, seated to her right, about the myriad rules governing the hosting of a dinner party—never mind that such a duty would not fall to Georgiana for many years.

In the middle of the table, Mrs. Bennet was in fine form. Her shrill voice described to Miss Bingley every bump and jolt from the carriage ride from Hertfordshire. “And now I have such tremblings in my hands. Do you see?” She extended a hand, which already contained a half-eaten roll, for Miss Bingley’s edification. “And halfway through the journey, I was seized with such flutterings in my chest. I thought we might be obliged to turn back to Longbourn.” Miss Bingley’s pained expression suggested such an event was devoutly to be wished.

Elizabeth’s mother took a bite of her roll; however, it did not staunch the flow of words. “But my devotion to my darling girl would not allow me to abandon the journey. I could never leave her to face the wedding plans alone! And perhaps—,” Mrs. Bennet glanced slyly at Bingley and Jane, “there will be two weddings to plan! Now there would be cause for rejoicing!” Caught up in her own contemplation of this felicity, she completely failed to note the horror on her dining companion’s face.

Naturally, Bingley was seated next to Jane, where they inhabited a world of their own creation. So much so that the footman was compelled to ask Bingley three times if he would like any potatoes. They might as well announce their engagement by the end of the evening. Darcy immediately chastised himself for such ungenerous thoughts, knowing they stemmed from his own dissatisfaction. He must, he resolved, simply avoid dwelling on the sight of their happy faces.

However, their felicity evidently gave Elizabeth great pleasure. He admired the gentle, genuine smile the sight provoked. How often had he dreamed of her lips curved in just that way when she gazed at him? A smile of welcome to Pemberley … or their bed chamber …

No, he must cease such musings lest he betray himself. She was not, and never would be, his.

Noticing Darcy’s regard, Elizabeth blushed slightly and returned her attention to her meal. “Jane and Mr. Bingley seem happy to have renewed their acquaintance,” she murmured.

“Yes, perhaps I erred in encouraging him to leave Netherfield last autumn. At the time, I thought it for the best.” Elizabeth’s head swung upward, and she regarded Darcy with such astonishment that he was tempted to laugh. He had nothing to lose by admitting the truth now. “Surely you do not believe me incapable of admitting to mistakes.”

She gave him the kind of arch look he always found irresistible. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself not to react. “No, indeed, I suppose even you might be wrong once every five years,” she teased.

Although the rejoinder was a jest, it still rankled. Did she not understand how such words affected him?

He sipped his wine slowly, then lowered the glass, staring at the dark red liquid. “If only you knew how many mistakes I regret only in the past few months.” He intended his tone to be teasing, but he feared it might have sounded bitter. Elizabeth appeared perplexed. At least she will never guess my greatest error was failing to court her properly.

Making no comment, Elizabeth returned to cutting her meat. Darcy pushed some potatoes around on his plate with little appetite. Do not be bitter, he chastised himself. Now is your opportunity to improve her opinion of your character. “I will be quite pleased if Bingley’s acquaintance with your sister brings them both joy,” he said. “They deserve every happiness.”

Elizabeth looked up at him sharply as if expecting some hidden meaning. He returned the look steadily.

Finally, she glanced away, taking a sip of her wine. “Be careful with your words, sir!” The teasing tone had returned to her voice. “Should they become engaged, you will not be able to escape acquaintance with the Bennet family—with two of your friends married into it.”

Only Elizabeth could wrap such a blunt truth in a jesting tone!

He cut a piece of meat while considering his response. “I would consider myself fortunate to socialize with you and your sister,” he said finally. Her eyebrows rose at his words. “But it is doubtful I would see others in your family, except perhaps when visiting Netherfield.”

She smiled, recognizing how neatly he had avoided voicing his true opinions about the rest of her family. “Indeed.”

Darcy pin