Page 49 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
Elizabeth hesitated for a very long time. “No,” she said, with finality. “No, he cannot.”
After an interminable interval of three days, Mr. Bingley and Miss Bingley arrived at Gracechurch Street together totender an invitation to take Elizabeth on a drive.
Miss Bingley sat on the other side of the carriage, making a show of reading a book, saying the two could do anything they liked.
The two then conducted a stilted conversation wherein they went through all of their possible topics in moments. They ended up talking aboutThe Scottish Chiefsagain, but they had both said everything each had to say about the book, and so it was just a rehash of previous conversations.
Eventually, they lapsed into silence. Elizabeth inquired after Mr. Higgins, and Caroline put her book away and talked about him eagerly for the rest of the drive.
Before he left, Mr. Bingley invited her to another ball, and she accepted the invitation, determined not to take any more dresses from Caroline. If her best clothes were not good enough for the occasion, and Mr. Bingley was too ashamed to be seen with her, perhaps he best not marry her.
Thus determined, she found herself looking forward to the activity.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE NEXT MONTHpassed away, peppered with a number of activities involving Mr. Bingley. He called upon her at least twice a week, sometimes thrice, always with one or both of his sisters in tow as a chaperone.
Unfortunately, it seemed as if she and Mr. Bingley grew less comfortable in each other’s presence as the time went on. Instead of feeling closer to Mr. Bingley as he became more and more familiar to her, she felt as if their association shone a light on a gap between them, one that was quite wide.
It wasn’t as if it were widening, so that was something. It had always been there, she felt, and now it was just obvious.
They did not have much in common. They did not enjoy the same things. They did not have similar philosophies of life. Well, it was fair to say that she had some philosophy of life and that Mr. Bingley simply reacted to life as it happened without giving it much thought.
He admired her, that much stayed the same.
But she felt embarrassed by the things about her he seemed to find admirable. She would make what seemed to her as obvious observations about a verse in the bible, and he would be amazed by it, saying he would haveneverthought of it in that way.
Would have never thought at all,she found herself thinking, uncharitably.
But all this as it was, she thought it was perhaps a balance between them. He had better connections than her, more wealth, and she had a sharp wit. They each brought something to the relationship. She was not dissatisfied with it.
Except, well, there were moments, bad moments, that kept occurring, and they always involved Mr. Darcy.
He would sometimes be at the balls they attended, or even out in the park when they were walking. She would see him. He would see her. They would never speak, but they wouldlookat each other.
Every time, she would have the sensation that the world went entirely still around her, and that he and she were all that existed. She’d be aware only of him and of her blood rushing in her veins, her breath in her lungs, her heart pumping in her chest. He seemed similarly affected.
But as he always looked away or fled after one of these looks, she told herself to ignore them. It was foolish to think that it meant anything at all. Caroline was still convinced that Mr. Darcy had some feelings for Elizabeth, but everyone else thought it was foolish.
Well, by everyone else, she meant Mrs. Hurst.
She didn’t discuss it with Mr. Bingley and he didn’t discuss it with her.
One day, in late February, while they were on a walk together, Mrs. Hurst and Caroline several paces ahead, the air brisk and stinging the tip of her nose, Mr. Darcy happened by them on horseback. He was with his sister, to whom Elizabeth had not yet been introduced. However, she’d seen Miss Darcy enough times now to recognize her. Miss Darcy was not out in society and did not attend balls, but might be out and about in other capacities from time to time. There was another man there, too. He was apparently a Fitzwilliam, a younger son of Lord and Lady Matlock and he had rank in the army, too, but Elizabeth didn’t remember it. She’d seen him across the room at a ball the week before, and Caroline had talked about how positively ugly he was, which Elizabeth thought was cruel. This Major-or-Lieutenant-or-Colonel Fitzwilliam wasn’t handsome, true, but he was not ugly.
Bothof them looked at her, the major-or-colonelandMr. Darcy.
It was so bad that both men started to steer their horses towards where they were walking on the path, and Mr. Bingley could not help but notice.
And for her part, she was somehow caught in it, too, gazing back, her heart thudding against her temples.
“Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley.
She snapped her attention back to him, shaking herself. “I’m so very sorry, sir. I did not mean to—”
“We need to talk about it,” he said. “I thought perhaps we didn’t, but I have been lying to myself.”
“Talk about what?” said Elizabeth, resisting the urge to turn her head and see if Mr. Darcy was still there, to look and see ifhewas looking back ather.
