Page 71 of An Accidental Meeting
“But this is excellent news!” Mr. Bingley cried, standing to offer his friend a hearty handshake. He leaned in and Elizabeth heard him say, “If I have my way, Darcy, we shall be brothers.”
It was a fantastical ending to a day that ought to have been the worst of her life. By all rights, they were ruined, and yet Elizabeth had never felt so wonderful, so free.
“I knew how it would be,” Judge Darcy said knowingly, lifting his wine glass in their honour. “Did I not say as much the first night you dined here, Gardiner?”
Uncle Gardiner shook his head and laughed. “You did indeed.”
Aunt Nora smiled. “It did not require much in the way of deduction,” she said slyly, “for I had it from the source himself the morning after you first dined here.”
“What?” Elizabeth asked, looking Mr. Darcy full in the face. “You told your aunt you wished to marry me?”
A deep shade of red suffused his features as Mr. Darcy said, “She asked whether you were the one, and I said that you were.”
Elizabeth heard Georgiana sigh happily. She suspected the conversation had been more complicated than this, but as everything had worked out so well, she had no desire to ask for the details.
Georgiana stood from her place across the table and strode over to her brother, who rose to greet her. She threw herself in his arms without any regard for decorum. “I know I should wait until we are in private, brother,” she told him, “but I could not wait to tell you how pleased I am. You will be so happy, and I will have such a sister!”
“Oh, you do not know me well enough yet,” Elizabeth teased her. “For all you know I shall steal all your best ribbons and refuse to serve syllabub.”
“I could do well enough without them,” Georgiana said, drawing back from Mr. Darcy and holding out her hands shyly. Elizabeth stood to take them. “As long as you are here with us.”
Elizabeth was grateful Lydia was eating above stairs tonight, for she would not have appreciated all the attention being lavished on an engagement other than the one she believed was hers. She had not taken to their plan, insisting that she was to be married. Fortunately, Mr. Wickham had driven them hard to arrive here, and Lydia was too tired to dress for dinner.
Mr. Bingley sat back down in his chair and nudged his sister next to him.
“Congratulations, Mr. Darcy, Miss Bennet,” Miss Bingley said primly, appearing as though she had swallowed something bitter. She took a sip of her wine. “I wish you both happy.”
Although she could not have expected that Mr. Darcy would ever offer for her, the woman was obviously disappointed, and Elizabeth could not find it in her to blame Miss Bingley for it. Now that Elizabeth knew the sort of man Mr. Darcy truly was, she understood that the happiness awaiting her was rare. Miss Bingley had known it before Elizabeth and had been forced to watch him fall in love with another. The part of Elizabeth that sympathised with the woman was almost as strong as the part that rejoiced in Miss Bingley’s defeat. It was not kind of her, but then, they could not all be Jane.
“Miss Bingley,” Aunt Nora said, after everyone had settled down and the toasts were done, “I enjoyed our conversation today.” She addressed everyone at the table. “We were discussing Mary Anning’s fossil find at Lyme Regis.”
“An ichthyosauria,” Miss Bingley said.
“A fish lizard?” Judge Darcy inquired. “I had heard of the find, but they had not yet identified the specimen.” He cocked his head to one side. “You know, Miss Bingley, my son Alexander will be visiting here in a few days once his own party is complete.”
“I have had the same idea, Hugh,” Aunt Nora said. “I think Miss Bingley and Alex might get on quite well.”
Miss Bingley looked down at her plate. “Thank you,” she said, a little too sharply. “I shall be pleased to make his acquaintance.”
“Well,” Uncle Gardiner said in Elizabeth’s ear, “she did want to marry a Darcy. Perhaps she still has a chance.”
Chapter Eighteen
Elizabeth gathered the dressing gown around her. She could not sleep for all the excitement and trepidation that warred within her. She paced the room for a time before once again reclining in the window seat, her thoughts very different than they had been earlier in the day. Mr. Darcy still loved her, despite her youngest sister’s misstep, despite her own faulty judgement. It was astonishing really, and though she could not account for it, she was not inclined to question her good fortune. For never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved Mr. Darcy as when Lydia had appeared, insensible of her own disgrace, and all hope seemed in vain.
Yet intermingled with her happiness was the yet unresolved problem of Lydia. They had a plan, but would Lydia agree to do as they asked when the reward was two years in the future? According to Aunt Gardiner, she had insisted her Wickham would return for her.
No one really believed that Mr. Wickham would return, now that he knew he would not be paid. Still, Mr. Darcy had assigned footmen to watch the house overnight.
Lydia was always up late, and Elizabeth felt a bit of guilt for having left her sister so abruptly in the library with the Gardiners when she arrived. She peeked out into the hall to see whether it was clear. When she saw that it was, she stepped out and padded across the floor to Lydia’s chamber, pressing her ear to the door to listen for movement. There was a thump and a scraping sound, as though someone was dragging furniture across the floor. Elizabeth felt for the knob—it was not locked, and she let herself in.
There, in the light of one weak candle, was Lydia, pulling her dresses from the wardrobe, including a few that must have been Miss Darcy’s, and stuffing them in her trunk.
“What are you doing?” Elizabeth asked, horrified. All sympathy for her sister disappeared.
“Lizzy!” Lydia said with a huff, pressing one hand to her heart. “You frightened me!”
“Never mind that,” Elizabeth replied tartly. “What are you doing?”
