Pride and Proposals

He owed her an abject apology. He opened his mouth to deliver it, but all he could imagine was blurting out a confession and a declaration of the deepest, most enduring love.

No! It would not do!

He could not chance it. He must not say anything.

He met her eyes, recognizing the confusion and hurt he saw there. Silently, he pleaded that she would understand his dilemma. Someday. Then he turned and disappeared through the French doors, leaving her alone on the balcony.

Chapter 11

Elizabeth was unsure what to expect when she arrived at Darcy House. Mr. Darcy’s behavior at the ball the previous evening had been confusing—and a little alarming. For a moment, she had thought he meant to kiss her.

But in the light of the next day, she knew that to be a silly illusion conjured by moonlight and the proximity created by the waltz. She was not the princess in a fairy tale—and Mr. Darcy was certainly not Prince Charming. Why, in the very next moment, he had pushed her away as if she intended to poison him!

They had been standing daringly close, although she had not noticed until the dance ended. Did Mr. Darcy believe she had somehow contrived that intimacy in the hopes of encouraging a romance? Was that why he had thrust her away so violently? No, surely he knew her better than that.

She was uncertain how they had come to be so close. Had Mr. Darcy drawn her toward him without realizing it? Fervently, Elizabeth hoped that she had not unintentionally moved closer as they danced. What would he think of her? The very thought provoked a blush.

No, she must not assume the worst. It was most probable that Mr. Darcy had simply recognized the impropriety of how close they were standing and left abruptly because of his embarrassment. He was not always skillful at articulating his thoughts.

That must be the explanation. He would never consider kissing her. It was unclear if he even truly liked her! He could marry any number of women and would have no desire to favor a country miss with no connections—particularly his cousin’s betrothed. It was a foolish mistake. A trick of shadows and moonlight. It is not as though I wish him to kiss me!

She now deeply regretted consenting to the waltz. His actions had skirted the boundaries of propriety, but she had voiced no reservations. If Mr. Darcy’s opinion of her had suffered as a result, she could blame no one but herself.

After exiting the balcony, Elizabeth had seen him at a distance as he danced the last set with Georgiana, but they had not spoken again. She had hastily found the Gardiners, and they had made an expeditious exit from the ball.

Perhaps he would be at tea with Georgiana. Naturally, he would not mention the incident, but his demeanor might reveal something of his thinking. Only now did she realize how sad she would be to lose his friendship

The butler escorted her into the drawing room, where Georgiana was sitting with her embroidery. The first thing Elizabeth noted was that the room was full of flowers; arrangements of different sizes and many different varieties covered nearly every available surface.

“Elizabeth!” Georgiana exclaimed. “I am so happy you have come!”

“Have you resolved on opening a flower shop?” Elizabeth asked.

Georgiana laughed as she gestured her friend to a seat. “I very well could! These flowers are from gentlemen who attended the ball last night.” She blushed a deep crimson.

Elizabeth had guessed as much. “I can see you made quite an impression.”

“I suppose.” Georgiana’s hands twisted in her lap, and her eyes were downcast.

“I thought the ball went very well,” Elizabeth said, trying to catch her friend’s eye.

Georgiana looked up. “Yes. It was ever so much better than I feared. People were so kind, and I never missed a step while dancing. I even enjoyed myself—some of the time.”

“So it is the flowers themselves you find displeasing?” Elizabeth teased. “They are perhaps too fragrant?”

Georgiana giggled. “No, indeed!” Darcy’s sister stood and pensively examined a delicate pink rose. “I just wish … I knew which gentlemen admire me and which only admire my dowry.”

Elizabeth leaned toward her friend. “I can see why that would trouble you. Fortunately, there is no need for haste. In time, I have no doubt you will find a gentleman who is worthy of you.”

Georgiana’s mouth was a thin line. “I hope so. I do hope to marry for love.” She wandered among other arrangements, admiring the flowers.

“I am certain you shall.” Elizabeth considered ways to keep the conversation amusing. “So now I understand why I had to fight through a jungle of blossoms, but how is it you escaped a corresponding throng of admirers for afternoon visits?” She would have expected many of these interested young gentlemen to commence their courtship of Georgiana immediately.

The younger woman smiled gently. “William left strict instructions that I am not to receive any gentlemen callers without him—or most ladies either, since most of them would be pressing the suits of brothers or sons. As a result, I am not at home to anyone except you or my aunt. I confess myself relieved. I would not be equal to a day of receiving visitors after such a night.”

A maid brought in a tray with tea and biscuits. Georgiana poured a cup for Elizabeth, adding a little cream and sugar, just as she liked.

So, Mr. Darcy was not at home? “Did your brother go to his club?” Elizabeth sipped her tea, attempting to appear disinterested.