Page 55 of When Elizabeth Said Yes

When they had finished, there was a round of applause, and thankfully the conversation seemed to have moved on from Mr Wickham.

◆◆◆

In the days that followed the dinner at Netherfield, Elizabeth did not get a chance to speak with Darcy alone.

He called around for tea more than once, accompanied by Bingley, and sometimes Bingley’s sister, but never were they left alone. And Elizabeth found she lamented the fact.

For how were they supposed to have a proper conversation or know each other at all before they married if they never spent any time together?

Really, society was a most confusing beast.

On Friday night, as they got ready for bed, their clothes already picked out for making calls the following day and church on Sunday for the second reading of the banns, Jane told Elizabeth a secret.

"I think Mr Bingley may be renewing his interest," she said as she brushed out Elizabeth’s long brown hair.

Their eyes met in the mirror and Elizabeth grinned.

"Of course he is," she said.

"I thought he was merely being pleasant," she said, splitting her hair into two sections and beginning to plait it. Even though Elizabeth now had use of her temporary maid, old habits died hard, and the girls had often arranged each other’s hair. "He is always charming and funny, and I told myself that I could enjoy his company without it having to mean anything more."

"Indeed," Elizabeth said disbelievingly.

"But then," Jane said, and her pale cheeks flushed bright red before she continued, "oh, Lizzy, when they came to tea yesterday and we took a walk in the gardens… He kissed me!"

Elizabeth whirled round. This conversation was not one to be had in the mirror.

"He kissed you?" she said in shock. "I thought Mama went with you. How did—"

"She stopped to talk to Hill about dinner that evening, and we walked on a little way and he said how pleased he was to be back."

"And then?"

"And then he kissed me."

"Goodness," Elizabeth said, unsure what to say.

She had not expected their relationship to have moved on so quickly.

"How was it?" she asked, interest warring with concern. Bingley had not yet declared himself, but then it was only a kiss. As long as no one saw, it would not terribly matter, would it?

And she, Elizabeth, had never been kissed. She was to be married in two weeks’ time and she had never been kissed.

"Oh, Elizabeth," Jane said dreamily, "I cannot describe… I had told myself I did not love the man, that we could be friends, that it did not matter if he left again. But I was lying to myself. He kissed me and I knew, Lizzy, I love him, and I think he loves me. And I am sure he will propose marriage."

"I’m sure he will too," Lizzy said, and she hoped she was right, because it made her feel a little uneasy that he had stolen a kiss without declaring himself.

What was there to stop him from running off to London again and breaking Jane’s heart? Or ruining her reputation?

But as she fell asleep that night, she found herself thinking and dreaming not of Mr Bingley, no, of her very own Mr Darcy, of how it felt when he pressed his lips to her hand, and of how she might feel when they finally kissed.

Would that be on their wedding day? Or would he, like Bingley, be unable to control himself and succumb before then?

Or maybe he did not feel as strongly as Bingley.

These thoughts whirled around her head all night.

Chapter Thirty-Two