Page 69 of The Briar Bargain
Jane looked at the two of them, the vines that were now wrapped carefully up the trellis, and the two stacks of pots behind them. Elizabeth was aware it would take no more than a moment for Jane to understand what had happened. She had a good deal of experience with such matters to help her along.
“Lizzy,” Jane said with a sigh and turned to the man standing beside Elizabeth. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth detected a sort of sisterly satisfaction in Jane’s voice.
Mr. Darcy gave Jane a formal bow that was somewhat at odds with the informal nature of their recent activities. "It was my pleasure, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth, suddenly conscious that she had been alone with Mr. Darcy for a rather lengthy period, felt it wise to suggest a retreat. "Shall we retire to dress for dinner?” Not that they had many gowns available for dinner. But it was all she could think of to extricate herself.
Once they were in the passage and Mr. Darcy had excused himself, Jane turned to Elizabeth with an expression that spoke of barely contained interest.
"You let him help you," Jane said softly, her voice full of gentle observation rather than accusation.
Elizabeth shrugged, affecting a nonchalance she did not entirely feel. "He is taller than I am."
"That has not stopped you before," Jane reminded her, though her smile suggested she was enjoying herself. "And was there a great deal of vine management required?"
"The vine was remarkably determined," Elizabeth replied. "It had wound itself around half the conservatory. Someone needed to intervene before it achieved complete botanical dominion." She paused. "How did you know I was here? Mr. Bingley was in conference and could not have seen me."
"Oh, I did not wish to embarrass Mr Darcy. Mr. Bingley is no longer in his meeting, and saw his friend wandering this way in search of you. I suppose he puzzled out that you would be found together." Jane laughed softly.
The gentle comment struck closer to home than Elizabeth entirely liked. It was true that she had developed the habit of independence through necessity rather than choice, and that she more often preferred to managechallenges herself rather than risk being disappointed by others' efforts or availability. She was enjoying having a friend to help her.
"You do not often allow others to help you," Jane said knowingly.
"Perhaps," Elizabeth said carefully, "I am learning that some tasks are more efficiently completed with the right sort of help."
Jane squeezed her arm affectionately. "Perhaps indeed. And perhaps Mr. Darcy is learning the same lesson."
Elizabeth glanced at her sister, noting the smug expression that suggested Jane had seen rather more than the mere management of horticultural difficulties. "What do you mean by that?"
"Only that he appeared quite content to be of service," Jane replied. "And that such contentment is not something I have previously observed in his manner."
They had reached the staircase that led to their chambers, and Elizabeth paused with her hand on the banister, considering Jane's words. It was true that Mr. Darcy's behaviour in the conservatory had been notably different from his usual formal courtesy. There had been an ease about him, a willingness to engage in playful conversation that spoke of someone who was genuinely comfortable in her company.
"He has been different lately," she admitted slowly. "More approachable. Less formidable."
"Has he?" Jane's tone suggested this observation came as no surprise to her, but she was gracious enough not to remind Elizabeth that she had said as much days ago. "And how do you find this change?"
Elizabeth considered the question as they climbed the stairs together. How did she find it? The Mr. Darcy who had insulted her at the assembly seemed like a different person entirely from the man who had crouched beside her to untangle vines. The transformation was remarkable, and she was not entirely certain when it had occurred or what had prompted it.
"I find it . . ." she paused, searching for the right words. "Unexpected. But not unwelcome."
Jane's smile was soft and knowing. "I am glad to hear it."
As they reached the landing, Elizabeth found herself reflecting on the afternoon's events with a mixture of pleasure and confusion. The easy camaraderie she had shared with Mr. Darcy in the conservatory felt significant in ways she was not yet ready to examine too closely. But Jane's gentle observation echoed in her mind: she had let him help her.
More than that, she had enjoyed it. And yet . . .
Her steps slowed as she approached her door, that troubling little whisper returning, as insistent as ever: what if his concern was only a fleeting kindness? If friendship was all he could offer, she, in her foolishness, had best not mistake his gentlemanly actions for affection.
Elizabeth drew in a steadying breath, her fingers tightening on the knob. She would not be the girl who imagined tender feelings where there were none. Whatever charm lay in their time together this afternoon, she must not let her hopes outrun his intentions.
Better to be wary now than heartbroken later.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Darcy considered himself a man largely indifferent to table arrangements. Seating, in his estimation, served only to ensure an orderly meal with guests fed in proper sequence, conversation flowing along predictable channels, and his own person safely positioned where he might easily participate in a conversation that would be polite if not engaging. Yet when the footman, a rather youthful fellow with a forehead already glistening under the strain of the evening's formalities, directed Miss Elizabeth Bennet to the chair beside his own, Darcy’s heart gave a leap in his chest. He decided that he would send Harrison below stairs this evening with a hefty vail for the man’s troubles.
