"Nobody, who has not been in the interior of a family, can say what the difficulties of any individual of that family may be." ~~Emma, Jane Austen
(The quote is from Emma, but this is a P&P story.)
~~IOAF~~
Subtly indicating the man who seemed to be hovering near her all evening, Elizabeth whispered to Charlotte. "Why do you think he watches me so? What could he possibly mean by it?"
"You do seem to have captured his attention. That you should speaks to a level of discernment which I did not know he possessed," Charlotte laughed. Noticing her friend's uneasiness, she immediately stopped her teasing. "I am sorry, Lizzy. I did not mean to upset you."
"He makes me uncomfortable. It is not proper. He tried to hide his conduct at Netherfield but I could feel his gaze upon me whenever we were in company. Yet he only spoke the barest of civilities, the bare minimum. Not that I wished for his attention."
"I would imagine not. He is a gentleman-" Elizabeth scoffed, unwilling to excuse the man's behavior. "He is a gentleman and he is also married. Unless he approaches you with specific intention, or otherwise causes you undue distress, you must bear it."
Sneaking a glance at the gentleman again, Elizabeth's eyes widened and she stepped back, as if to hide herself behind her friend. "Charlotte Lucas, you are never allowed to speak again for you are a sorceress! It is as if you have summoned him, for he now approaches," Elizabeth whispered. Her nervousness was apparent, and she clutched Charlotte's hand tightly.
"Miss Lucas, Miss Elizabeth. Has the evening been to your liking thus far?" Elizabeth thought that she had never heard such a lengthy utterance from the man. She was happy for her friend to respond for them both.
"Is there any finer evening than one spent in the company of good friends? I am sure you must agree."
"Quite so." The gentleman voice was rough, as if from disuse. He cleared it before he continued. "I know Bingley was well pleased with your company, Miss Elizabeth, and that of your sister, during her convalescence at Netherfield. Miss Bennet looks as if she is recovered." As if choreographed, all three turned to where Jane Bennet was speaking quietly with Mr. Bingley. "I had hoped to see you this evening as I wished to return this to you. I found it in the drawing room after you and your sister departed. It seemed personal. I did not wish to entrust its return to another." With these words he handed Elizabeth a small sketch book.
Startled, Elizabeth took the extended object. "Oh, I had not realized I had left it." She had brought the sketch book with her to Netherfield, though she only took it out on rare occasions during her stay. As Elizabeth had commented to Miss Bingley, she was not a great reader and took pleasure in many things. Nor was she a great artist but drawing was, indeed, one of those many pleasures.
Drawing was something she could do in company and still attend to conversations. It helped clear her mind between books. It steadied her after an argument or if she needed to ruminate on a problem. And sometimes she simply wanted to capture the beauty that was around her. As such, she had indulged the urge to draw the autumnal scene from Netherfield's drawing room window on a variety of occasions.
She would not have given the gentleman credit for the understanding he displayed by not giving her book to Miss Bingley to return to her, as would have been proper. There were several sketches of the Netherfield party, both flattering and decidedly unflattering. Miss Bingley would have been livid to see how she was depicted in some of the drawings. However, Elizabeth had taken great care in putting Mr. Darcy's handsome likeness to page. She blushed to think anyone else had seen it.
She studied the man before her. He had obviously looked at the book's contents for she saw a bit of humor in his expression. However, there was something else she could not identify in his countenance, and it was most unsettling. Hoping to end their conversation, she curtsied and thanked him for her book's return.
Instead of leaving, he continued. "I hope you will forgive me; I paged through quite a bit before my conscience persuaded me I should look no further. Your drawings are very good. I am curious as to the signature you use. Is there any particular significance or meaning to 'Zibby'?" It was then that his attention was drawn to his own party. He had been gone too long. With a bow, he wished the ladies a good evening.
"And good evening to you, Mr. Hurst." Charlotte said to the gentleman's back as he walked away.