Page 43 of Darcy's Guarded Heart
“It would be most unfortunate if our dear Georgiana got herself mixed up in something unsavoury. People might talk if she continues to keep such company. Imagine the talk. Goodness, I should not think Lord Matlock would like such distraction,” she said.
Darcy could already imagine what his uncle—and worse, his Aunt Catherine would say. His eyes flittered from Georgiana to Mr Collins, who was now conversing with Sir William. He would most certainly make a full report on everything he observed. And he had observed rather a lot thus far.
“I shall speak to her after the dance,” he said.
And then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked towards the table, where he snatched another glass of wine. He’d taken only one sip when the familiar figure of Miss Elizabeth appeared beside him.
“Mr Darcy. I saw you overcame your aversion to dancing. You and Miss Bingley made rather a smashing pair,” Elizabeth said, her amused tone drifting to his ear.
He looked at her, and she smiled at him, her seafoam green gown complementing her pale complexion.
“Yes, well,” he said, “sometimes a man must do what a man must do, even if it means dancing,” he replied. She opened her mouth and was about to reply when he cleared his throat. “Good evening, Miss Bennet,” he said, and walked past her.
He had to get away from her. Talking to her would only ease his mood and right now, he needed to hold on to his anger, for there were things he had to do. He had to rebuke Georgiana. He had to talk to Bingley. This entire affair had to come to an end. Caroline and her sister had been right. They needed to ensure Bingley broke off his connection with the Bennets, and the sooner the better. For parting Bingley from Jane Bennet meant they could leave here—and put distance between himself, Georgiana, and the Bennets as well.
That was what was needed. Distance. And plenty of it. Even if his heart continued to long to prolong his conversation with the one Bennet he had come to truly care for. Elizabeth.
Chapter Twenty-One
Elizabeth
The moon was already making its descent the following morning when Elizabeth and the rest of her party finally stumbled out of Netherfield and boarded their carriages again.
Jane, Elizabeth, and Lydia sat with their backs to the horses, while Mrs Bennet, Kitty, and Mary sat across. All three had fallen asleep before the vehicle left Netherfield,
Lydia prattled on about the highlights of the evening, her flow of words only interrupted by the occasional yawn.
“It was such a grand ball. Jane, when you are Mrs Bingley, you must host a ball such as this every single week.”
Jane chuckled. “I should think not. Even if I were fortunate enough to become Mr Bingley’s wife, I do not think he would appreciate my spending all of his money on such nonsense.”
“Nonsense? It is hardly nonsense, Jane” Lydia interjected. “Five thousand pounds per annum. He surely can afford it. Starting with your wedding. I shall dance and dance and dance and eat wedding cake and dance some more. It will be splendid!” She looked at her sleeping sisters. “Look at Mary and Kitty. What bores they both are. I daresay, they act as though they worked in a mine all—” Alas, her rebuke was interrupted by a yawn of her own.
“I daresay you shall join them soon in the land of Nod,” Elizabeth said.
“I think not,” Lydia replied. “I am far too excited! If only that dreadful Mr Darcy hadn’t spoiled Georgiana’s fun. She was doing so well, snatching raisins!”
“Raisins?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes! We were playing a game of ‘Snapdragon’. I thought it quite surprising that Mr Bingley would set up such a game when it is usually only played at Christmas. But I was glad for it for it was such fun. And Georgiana was doing so well when suddenly Mr Darcy appeared and was rather cross. Poor Georgiana was ever so upset.”
“Do not say ‘ever so’, it is common,” Mrs Bennet chided from beside Jane. Elizabeth thought her mother was asleep, but it seemed she had only been eavesdropping this entire time.
“Yes, Mother,” Lydia said, “but it was ever… It was so very upsetting. It was fortunate that she recovered herself so quickly. Thomas attended to her immediately afterwards because she was crying.”
“Thomas tended to her?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes,” Lydia nodded. “Mr Darcy was so gruff with her. He censured her rather sternly.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard. The idea that Mr Darcy had been so upset with his sister that he had brought her to tears troubled her. Then, she thought back to their conversation earlier.
“Mr Darcy had a difficult evening,” she said. “It was the anniversary of his father’s death. Perhaps he was easily—”
“I daresay Mr Darcy must have a year’s worth of deceased fathers, for he is in a dreadful mood every day,” Lydia said.
“Lydia,” Jane tried to hide her laughter. “That is not—”
“Indeed, it is. Lydia, you should not say such things,” Elizabeth added.
