When the gentlemen returned inside, it was to discover Miss Bingley, who had carefully noted where Darcy’s attention lingered during the evening, venting her feelings in criticisms of Elizabeth’s person, behavior, and dress. “For my own part, I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy, and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way, and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine…”

“I think she is lovely,” Georgiana interrupted, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it could be heard at Longbourn. The attention of the entire party turned immediately in response to this novel behavior on her part. Darcy looked at her as if she had suddenly turned into a stranger, though not in a displeased way.

Miss Bingley recovered quickly, and, though she should have recognized that she was not recommending herself to either Darcy or Georgiana, angry people are not always wise. She continued, “I remember, when we first knew her, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one night, Mr. Darcy, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘She a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, I believe.”

Georgiana’s eyes turned on her brother full of shocked reproach, hardly able to credit he could have said such a thing, but when he did not deny it, she said, astonished by her daring, “Miss Bingley, Elizabeth is a dear friend of mine, and I will thank you not to speak of her in such a way in my presence. I find her pleasant, witty, generous, and altogether too well-bred to make these kind of derogatory comments.” As soon as the words stopped pouring out of her mouth, she realized she had gone too far. With a stricken look, she whispered a ‘good night’ to the room in general and turned and fled.

Bingley recovered first. “Well, Darcy, your little sister is growing up! You are going to have your hands full with her soon.”

“I am indeed,” said Darcy thoughtfully.

Miss Bingley could not stop herself. “Judging from her behavior, I cannot say that I believe Miss Elizabeth Bennet is an altogether good influence on Georgiana, Mr. Darcy.”

“Quite the contrary,” he said with a smile, thinking of how much he would enjoy telling an edited version of this tale to Elizabeth. “I believe she is just what Georgiana needs.” He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all the satisfaction of having forced him to say what gave no one any pain but herself.

Four

There was no response when Darcy knocked at the door of Georgiana’s room. Suspecting that she was hiding, he said, “Georgiana, it is William. I know you are in there; please open the door.” A moment later his sister appeared and let him into her sitting room. She did not meet his eyes, and looked as if she was expecting a scolding.

“I wanted to see if you were well; you looked upset when you left,” he said awkwardly.

“I am well,” she responded quietly. “Are you angry with me?”

“Far from it. I was proud of you for speaking up to Miss Bingley.”

She did not reply. Darcy shifted in his chair uncomfortably, wondering what in the world to say to her. Elizabeth would know, he thought, and indulged in a brief fantasy of riding to Longbourn and telling Elizabeth he needed her to talk to Georgiana for him. Then, while he was bringing her back, he would take her in his arms and show her all the passion that he had been hiding. He pushed those thoughts away firmly.

“Why did you not say anything when she was being so horrible about Elizabeth?”

Darcy sighed. “That is a perfectly reasonable question. I imagine I would have said something sooner or later, but I have developed a tolerance Miss Bingley’s remarks, and I pay little attention to them. Also, the more jealous Miss Bingley becomes of my regard for Miss Bennet, the more offensively she treats her, so I protect her by saying nothing.”

“I never thought about that part. But did you really say that horrible thing about Elizabeth and her mother?”

He swore to himself that if he ever managed to convince Elizabeth to marry him, she would have to handle all the serious conversations with Georgiana. She had never before questioned his behavior, and certainly not in this manner. “Yes, I did, or something much like it. I have said a great many ill-judged things in my life that I regret, and that would be high on the list.”

Georgiana bit her lip, wondering if she truly dared to ask the question she most wanted the answer to. “Are you going to propose to Elizabeth?”

Darcy was back on solid ground now. “Miss Bennet and I are just friends.”

“There is no need to treat me like a child. I have seen how you look at her.”

“This is a private matter, Georgiana,” he said in a voice that declared the subject closed.

Georgiana subsided, not yet ready to openly defy him. Perhaps she would ask Elizabeth.

*   *   *

Darcy could not recall any instance in which he was as annoyed with his sister as he was when she began Elizabeth’s next visit by announcing that she was looking forward to visiting with Elizabeth alone, and promptly took her off to her rooms. He tried to console himself with the knowledge that he would have been unable to converse with her in private in any case, much less follow up on the delightful finish to their recent day together, but he was at the point of feeling such a degree of deprivation of her company that his irritation remained unchanged. It had been over a week since the day she had kissed him, and he had not been one minute alone with her since. It was enough to drive a man to distraction, or at least to contemplate kidnapping.

Elizabeth gave him a sympathetic glance in response to his obvious disgruntlement before she and Georgiana went out, but it provided little comfort. Darcy was obsessed with the many things he was denied at the moment: he longed for time alone with Elizabeth, he wanted the opportunity to kiss her again, he needed to know what she was feeling about him, and above all, he desired her love. He hated being so mystified by the state of her regard for him; she obviously felt something, but how much was attraction and how much was affection baffled him. At times, he thought he detected her concern for him, but then again, she never seemed particularly pleased to see him, and was more likely to greet Bingley or Georgiana with a warm smile than him. He had seen desire in her eyes, but not a look of tenderness or affection. It was ironic; when he proposed to her in Kent, he had not been particularly concerned about whether she cared about him—as long as she was willing to marry him, the reason was unimportant. Now it was the caring that concerned him most, and it would be a bitter ending indeed to win her for any reason but her love. He shook his head and decided that if he could not be with Elizabeth, he might as well be productive, and retreated to the room he was using as his study to tackle the enormous pile of papers his steward had sent him.

Elizabeth was not in the least confused about how Darcy was feeling at the moment, since he had done an abysmal job of hiding his frustration. She was inclined to sympathize, as she had missed his company as well, but she was also amused at Georgiana’s unusual assertiveness, and curious as to why she would not want Darcy present, especially as she was of the opinion that Georgiana wanted to throw the two of them together as much as possible. She suspected Georgiana wished to confide in her, but that was far from the truth.

Georgiana, tired of being left in the dark, was in fact preparing to interrogate Elizabeth, and her only uncertainty was how direct to be about her intentions. She eventually elected to be straightforward, mostly out of doubt in her own ability to be subtle, but also feeling that this might suit Elizabeth better. She felt it best, though, to start with the relatively simple questions. “Have you thought any further about coming to Pemberley?”

Elizabeth sighed. Every time she saw Georgiana, this subject arose again. Darcy, on the other hand, carefully avoided any mention of Pemberley with her. “There truly is nothing for me to think about, since, as I have said, the decision is not mine.”

“It seems as if you would prefer not to visit us,” she said somewhat plaintively.

“Georgiana, I would be delighted to visit you, but this particular visit is problematic. You have never met my aunt and uncle, and they move in very different circles than you. I think it would be preferable if we merely called on you.”

“I would like to meet them, and I am certain they would be more congenial company than Miss Bingley and the Hursts!”

“I confess that I would think them so, but that hardly matters.”

“Of course it does! I feel certain that William would enjoy their company as well.” She paused, then asked, “May I ask if you are promised to someone else?”

Elizabeth looked at her in great surprise. “No, I am not promised to anyone. Why do you ask?”

“It was just a thought. When my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, wrote to me last, he said I should tell you the story of my parents’ courtship, and that made me wonder, because my mother had been promised to another man.”

“And what, pray, is the story of their courtship?” Elizabeth wondered what role the colonel might be playing, and whether he was speaking on Darcy’s behalf or his own.

“Well, I do not know all the details, because everyone stopped talking about it after my mother died, and it is much more amusing when my uncle tells it. So you should really ask William, or Richard, or my uncle.”