Page 31 of The Heir and Spare
They went through room after room, each exactly as she thought they should be, each comfortable and cheery and, well, perfect, so much so that Lizzie almost couldn’t stand to be in such a place that would be forever outside her reach.
Dwelling on just such a thought, she stepped into the music room as the man himself stood up in front of them.
The housekeeper shook her head. “Oh, Mr. Darcy. Forgive us. I was not informed of your arrival.”
“No matter. I first went to the stables. It’s no problem at all.” His eyes traveled over the group and stopped on her.
She sucked in a breath and then dipped a curtsey. “Mr. Darcy.”
“Ah yes, Miss…Elizabeth, was it?” He dipped a quick bow, but showed no further sign of recognition. “Please feel at home. In fact, I’m certain Cook can provide tea for our guests?” He nodded to his housekeeper who turned to her. “I was not aware the young lady was familiar with the family. Certainly.”
“Please feel at home.” He dipped his head in a smaller bow and then exited the room.
Her breath left her in such a moment of deflation she leaned against the wall for support.
Mary came to stand beside her.
She avoided her gaze, though she knew what she would find there. The same confusion and questions she herself felt. Was she no more than a casual acquaintance to the man? Had he dismissed her already? She dipped her head a moment, staring down at her toes and then made a decision to move forward without further care. She lifted her chin and attempted to find a bit of sparkle to her eyes. “How lovely to offer tea. I do feel that we shall have to decline the kind offer, as we have further engagements this evening.”
Her aunt opened her mouth as if to protest, but Lizzie shook her head so she paused. Bless her aunt. Lizzie would have some explaining to do later.
But the group was soon escorted to the front door and after much effusive thanks, Lizzie was at last outside. She breathed deeply the air and then climbed up into the carriage. The sooner they hurried away the better.
What was worse for her? Being completely dismissed by Mr. Darcy as nothing more than a casual acquaintance or being seen at his house, a pathetic and desperate move of a young girl hoping for a bit of his attention?
She couldn’t abide the thought of either scenario and both had just happened to her. She clenched her fists together under her skirts, trying to dismiss all thoughts of him from her mind.
“That Darcy is such a polite young man.” Mrs. Gardener smiled with appreciation. “He and his brother were both the kindest of humans all growing up. I remember them being loved by all, regular princes for our town, I’ll tell you.”
“His brother?” Lizzie had not heard of a brother.
“Yes, Arthur and Fitzwilliam. Two peas in a pod so they would say, though I think they are as different as can be.”
Lizzie and Mary exchanged a look. Lizzie had heard nothing of any brother.
The carriage made quick work of the return trip and they soon found themselves back in the Inn.
No sooner had they arrived when Mr. Darcy showed up on horseback. He climbed down off his horse and bowed quickly. “I was saddened to hear of your departure. You left without Cook’s finest tarts.” He offered Lizzie a brown linen package. “She would have nothing but I be about delivering them myself.” His half grin was quite charming, and Lizzie found herself even more confused than before. “Thank you.” She dipped in another curtsey. “You certainly did not need to do such a thing.”
“Oh, you do not know our cook. I most certainly did. And besides, I had hoped to join you.”
“You did?” She studied his face. Nothing of the insolence or uncaring appeared there. No concern about her particular family relations. But none of the old familiarity either. Perhaps he was being sincere. Though what to make of this man, she could never know. Would she ever feel completely sure of her reception by him? Somehow she thought she might not. She smiled up into his face. “Again. Thank you. Please send our gratitude to your kind cook as well.”
“Of course. And now I must be off.” He climbed back up onto his horse and rode away in such a rush that he knocked down a servant carrying a large bag of goods toward the inn. Without aglance behind him, he continued down the lane at too quick of speed.
Lizzie frowned, and her expression was echoed in all those around her.
She also could not account for his behavior. The Mr. Darcy at the house party would never have behaved so. But the Mr. Darcy in Meryton certainly had. She would never, ever understand this man.
Later that evening, after indulging in far too many delicious chocolate tarts, she could not account for any of it—not for his behavior at any time, really. Who was the man who thought her not handsome enough who then spent particular attention with her at the house party who disrupted the love of her sister Jane who desired to assist her and Lydia in her plight who now behaved in a friendly enough manner but as though they had hardly met? She wasn’t certain who this new version of Mr. Darcy could be. She felt so unsettled about him she wasn’t certain she could have found a way to thank him if she’d tried. As it was, there had been hardly a moment to say anything at all.
At the early hours of dawn, her eyes finally closed heavily enough that sleep overtook her tired body and busy mind.
Far too early, while at breakfast, they received a note from Pemberley, delivered by a footman in livery. Lizzie admitted to herself that she felt very fancy as a result. She broke open the seal while the footman waited. Her aunt and each sister in turn stared at her while she perused the contents. She felt her face heat and also felt the gazes of many more in the Inn. She lowered the paper and cleared her throat. “It seems that we have all been invited to dine at Pemberley this evening.” Each sister showed different degrees of surprise. Lydia said what they were undoubtedly all—except Mary—thinking.
“Did he not spurn you, Lizzie, and you vowed never to speak his name? I’m glad you are seeing another side to him.”
Mary lowered her face in her hands. Lizzie glanced around the room and saw they were perhaps out of earshot of most, but certainly not the footman who was trained well enough to show no reaction to Lydia’s comment.
