Page 34 of To Love And To Cherish
“You have a generous heart,” he murmured. “I see it in all you do and say.”
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to pause. Bingley was struck with the sudden certaintythat this was what home ought to feel like, not a grand house or a fine address, but the warmth of kind eyes and the gentleness of a soul like Jane Bennet’s.
She did not dazzle him with clever remarks or flirtatious glances. She did not need to. Her mere presence brought stillness to his spirit.
He glanced away, embarrassed by the intensity of his own thoughts, and said with a smile, “May I persuade you to take a turn about the room with me, if you feel strong enough? I find conversation best when one is in motion.”
“I should like that very much,” Jane replied, her eyes brightening.
And so they strolled along the perimeter of the elegant room, Jane leaning lightly on his arm, their heads bent close as they spoke in low, gentle tones. The words were simple, yet with each exchange, the understanding between them deepened.
Miss Bingley, seeking to attract Mr. Darcy’s notice and inspire his admiration, seated herself at the pianoforte and began a sonata by Mozart. Its symmetrical phrases and elegant structure were rendered with technical precision, yet her performance lacked the warmth and expression that might have truly animated the piece. She had scarcely finished when Mr. Darcy stepped forward, inclining his head with quiet courtesy.
“Georgiana,” he said, “would you be so kind as to favor us with a piece?”
His tone was so tender that even Miss Bingley could not demur. She rose graciously, though with a slight hesitation, and had just opened her mouth to offer to turn pages when Georgiana turned instead to Elizabeth.
“Miss Elizabeth, would you be so kind as to assist me?”
Elizabeth rose at once, smiling. “I should be delighted.”
Together they approached the pianoforte, and Georgiana, with a blush, began a romantic piece by Muzio Clementi. The music was delicate and expressive, rich with restrained longing and graceful sentiment. When the final notes faded into silence, even Mr. Hurst roused himself enough to applaud.
Mr. Bingley turned to Jane and said quietly, “That piece expresses what I feel in my heart for you, though I could never say it so well.”
Jane’s blush deepened, but she replied with uncharacteristic candor, “Then I must confess it also expresses the feelings you are awakening in me.”
Mr. Bingley looked thoroughly delighted.
Georgiana turned to her friend with an eager expression. “Would you play for us, Elizabeth? I should be glad to turn pages if you would.”
Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled. “I will play from memory, but please remain with me at the instrument, Georgianna. I may require courage.”
Jane, ever supportive, added, “Please, Lizzy, sing ‘The Elfin King.’ You know it is my favorite.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Very well.”
She began, her voice clear and sweet, ideally suited to the ballad’s melancholic tone. When she finished, the room was hushed for a breathless moment.
Mr. Darcy broke the silence. “Miss Elizabeth, your soprano is singularly suited to ballads of such haunting beauty. I am almost ashamed to admit I was moved near to tears by that tale of lost love. Might I beg another?”
Before Elizabeth could answer, Miss Bingley gave a short, disdainful laugh. “Well, I daresay the style has its charms, though I cannot imagine how so simple a melody could evoke such extravagant emotion.”
Mrs. Hurst pressed her sister’s hand with quiet firmness. “Caroline,” she said in a whisper, “comport yourself. Mr. Darcy will not think better of you for exposing your spite.”
Miss Bingley flushed and said nothing further.
Elizabeth sang “Sweet William’s Ghost.” The plaintive tones and sorrowful lyrics once again moved the entire room. As the final verse drifted into silence, not a sound followed for several heartbeats.
Mr. Hurst broke the spell. “Miss Elizabeth, that was a truly lovely performance.”
Mrs. Hurst added, “You have a gift, Miss Bennet. I confess, I was brought to tears.”
Georgiana brushed at her eyes and said softly, “I have never been so moved by a song. Elizabeth, it was beautiful. Do you think such a love might truly exist?”
Before Elizabeth could respond, Miss Bingley once again could not restrain herself. “I think her voice is merely passable. I fail to see what the fuss is about.”
Mr. Bingley stood, his expression unreadable. “Caroline, you must be unwell. Perhaps you have caught the cold Miss Bennet isrecovering from. You will excuse yourself and go to your room. I shall ask Grace to prepare you a posset.”
