Page 15 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
A smile tugged on Elizabeth’s lips and she looked up at the man who continued to surprise her. She was about to speak when he cleared his throat. “Miss Elizabeth, I trust your sister Lydia is feeling better today?”
Elizabeth met his gaze. “Much better, thank you. Your kindness yesterday was most appreciated.”
“It was nothing. I have a sister of similar age. I understand how overwhelming grief can be for the young.”
Caroline’s eyes sharpened with interest. “How fascinating. I had no idea you were acquainted with the youngest Miss Bennet, Mr Darcy.”
“A brief encounter in town,” Darcy replied without looking at her.
Elizabeth studied Darcy with new eyes. Yesterday’s events had shattered her first impressions, leaving her curious about the man beneath the proud exterior. His interference on Jane’s behalf had only caused him to rise in her esteem.
The party soon settled for tea, during which Bingley, with a little help from Mr Darcy, kept the conversation from veering into uncomfortable topics again. After her second cup to tea, Elizabeth spotted Darcy walking to the window, a preferred space of his it seemed. She rose and walked to his side, raising her head to look up at him.
“Mr Darcy, might I have a word with you? I find myself in need of some air.”
His eyebrows rose slightly. “Of course.”
They stepped onto the terrace, leaving Jane and Mr Bingley behind with Caroline and the Hursts. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the garden, and Elizabeth drew a steadying breath.
“I owe you an apology,” she began without preamble. “My behaviour yesterday was inexcusable.”
Darcy turned to face her, his dark eyes serious. “Miss Elizabeth—”
“Please, let me finish. I accused you of taking advantage of my sister’s distress when you were showing her nothing but kindness. I allowed my prejudice to cloud my judgement, and I spoke to you in a manner no gentleman should have to endure.”
“Your concern for your sister was understandable.”
“My rudeness was not.” Elizabeth did not avert her eyes. “Lydia told me what really happened. How you comforted her when she was grieving. How you spoke to her about your own losses. You have a sister near her age who has also lost both parents, you said?”
Darcy’s jaw relaxed. “Georgiana was six when our mother died and eleven when our father died. She’s sixteen now and still struggles with the loss. When I saw Miss Lydia yesterday, I recognised the signs. Grief mixed with guilt is a heavy burden for anyone, but especially the young.”
“You were very kind to her. Kinder than I have been of late.” Elizabeth’s voice caught. “I am afraid I haven’t known how to help her through this.”
“Grief has no timeline, Miss Elizabeth. Sometimes the kindness of a stranger can reach places where family cannot. Especially when the family struggles as well with the same burden. Georgiana sometimes found more comfort with my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam or my aunt and uncle, as they were more removed from the situation.”
They stood in comfortable silence, the earlier tension between them dissolving. Elizabeth reassessed everything she thought she knew about Fitzwilliam Darcy.
“Your apology is accepted,” he said eventually. “Though I confess, I understood your protective instincts. I would have reacted similarly if someone had approached Georgiana in such circumstances.”
“Thank you for your understanding.”
When they returned to the drawing room, they found Caroline holding court while Jane and Mr Bingley sat notably closer together than before.
“Ah, there you are,” Caroline trilled. “I was just telling Miss Bennet about the delightful entertainments we have planned for the winter season.”
As the afternoon wore on, Elizabeth observed the dynamics in the room with growing interest. One thing became quite clear. Caroline’s infatuation with Mr Darcy—the way she positioned herself near him, her attempts to engage him in private conversation, her pointed comments about shared interests they supposedly enjoyed left no doubt.
Mr Darcy, however, showed no reciprocal interest. His responses were polite but distant, and Elizabeth noticed how he often looked towards the window or found reasons to move away when Caroline drew too close.
“Mr Darcy,” Caroline said, settling herself on the sofa beside him despite his obvious discomfort, “you must tell Miss Elizabeth about your library at Pemberley. It’s quite the most impressive collection in all of Derbyshire. Surely, you can recommend a worthy book that might interest her.”
“Miss Elizabeth strikes me as someone well-read enough to appreciate fine literature without needing my recommendations,” Darcy replied.
Elizabeth smiled. “I confess to being a great reader, though I fear my tastes are rather eclectic.”
“How delightfully… democratic,” Caroline said with a sniff. “Though I suppose in smaller communities, one must make do with whatever books are available.”
“On the contrary,” Elizabeth replied, “I find that good books exist everywhere, if one knows how to recognise them. It’s rather like people in that regard.”
