CHAPTER 3 - Elizabeth

Elizabeth walked away from Darcy in a hurry, glad to end the tortuous conversation. Jane caught her as she walked by and whispered in her ear, "I had no idea Mr. Darcy would be accompanying Mr. Bingley tonight!"

"Yes, quite a surprise for us all, I'm sure," Elizabeth replied, willing her voice to be even and strong. "I do hope the evening's entertainments will be up to his exacting standards."

"Oh Lizzy, be nice," Jane chided her softly. "Without him, this night would not be possible. Remember that and be kind. For my sake, if nothing else."

Jane gave her a pleading look, and Elizabeth sighed, nodding her assent.

"I shall be the picture of hospitality," she promised.

Jane squeezed her arm and smiled. She opened her mouth to say something, but Mr. Bingley chose that moment to tap on her shoulder, quickly winning back her attention.

Elizabeth gladly left the two talking. She turned back to glance at Mr. Darcy, and noticed that her father had now taken her place beside him. The two men stood, drinks in hand, looking around the room. Both had expressions that clearly conveyed boredom.

Elizabeth followed their gaze and saw Kitty and Lydia giggling with their heads together as they watched Jane and Bingley. Mary sat by herself, disconsolately turning the pages of a book, and Mrs. Bennet flitted around the room, placing her nose in each conversation for a word or two.

She sighed to herself and immediately felt great sympathy for the two men.

But what was Mr. Darcy doing here!

Elizabeth felt a sense of panic rising within her. She had spent the day writing her valentine, but she had no idea an opportunity would arise so soon for it to be delivered. She had been counting on having a few days to gather her courage before finding an excuse to walk to Netherfield and deliver the missive.

Elizabeth quickly began to think through her plan, her mind racing with different possibilities. She soon settled upon delivering the valentine that very evening. It was best to follow through with her plan before she lost her courage. Yes, that was best. She unconsciously squared her shoulders, establishing her course of action.

Quickly glancing about the room, making sure everyone's attention was elsewhere, she stood up and slipped out the door. As she crossed the hall, she heard a few notes plucked out on the pianoforte. Good, Mary was beginning to play. It would be awhile before anyone noticed her absence.

Racing up the stairs, she darted into the room she shared with Jane. She firmly shut the door behind her and made her way through the gathering shadows to the bed. Reaching underneath her pillow, she pulled out the carefully constructed card.

As Elizabeth gazed at the plain envelope, the ivory paper seemingly highlighting the missing addressee from the front, she imagined the card inside.

She had lain awake for hours the night before, designing the valentine in her head. When compared with the gaudy cards in the shops, hers was plain indeed. But she certainly couldn't have bought something from the shops. Word of the scandal of Miss Elizabeth Bennet purchasing a valentine's card would have reached Longbourn long before she did.

Instead, she had slipped into Papa's library early that morning and, finding one of the flowers he kept pressed between the pages of his books, affixed a simple purple bud to the front the card. Around the edge, she had placed lace that she'd carefully pulled from one of her handkerchiefs.

It was simple, to be sure, but Elizabeth still thought it was something of which she could be proud.

Turning the envelope over in her hands, she thought of the words that accompanied the flower and lace. They were bold, and far too forward for her own good—but true, every last one of them.

And if this was what she needed to do in order to make things right by Mr. Darcy, it was what she would do. Her honour demanded it. And, she admitted to herself, he had changed in the months since. Whatever his manner toward her had been, her visit to Pemberley had shown her a different man.

"Elizabeth! Where did you get off to?" Her mother's shrill voice rang up the stairs.

Swiftly tucking the envelope into her sash, Elizabeth hurried from the room, quickly making an excuse.

"Here Mamma! A pin fell from my hair and I was just fixing it."

She reached the bottom of the stairs, and Mrs. Bennet looked at her appraisingly. Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, her mother gave her an unexpected verdict. "You look lovely, dear."

Elizabeth was surprised at the soft tone in her mother's voice. Mrs. Bennet was not one to dole out compliments, and she rarely had one for Elizabeth—even less so after she had rejected the most ungainly proposal of Mr. Collins.

"Thank you, Mamma," She replied, threading her arm through her mother's. "It's kind of you to say."

"Well, my dear, you can't hold a candle to Jane, but now that she's engaged, you are the focus of my heart."

Elizabeth clenched her teeth. That was more like Mamma. She sighed, knowing her mother meant well, but she was glad to re-enter the room with the rest of the party.

Walking about the room, she nodded her head in time to the tune Mary played. Not quite beautiful, but Mary played every note with all her heart, and the music was a fine addition to the evening.

She stopped beside Mr. Darcy again. He was alone this time, Mr. Bennet having gone to refresh his drink. He surveyed the gathering with the same bored expression he had worn earlier. Elizabeth attempted conversation once more, her mind trying to conjure a way to give him the valentine without anyone's notice.

"Do you know this tune?" she asked, her eyes on Mary as she played.

"It sounds familiar," Darcy replied. "Unfortunately, I find that I am not in possession of a fine ear for music. All of that talent went to Georgiana."

"Oh, yes, she plays beautifully. It was truly a gift when she played for us at Pemberley."

There. She had done it. She had broached him with the subject of their last meeting.

She held her breath and waited for Darcy to say something in reply.

"Your sister also plays quite well," Darcy said graciously, although Elizabeth could hear from his tone that he was being very gracious with his compliment indeed.

"Oh, yes. She has quite her own way with music," she replied, her heart sinking a little at the fact that he had fixated on another point in her words rather than her visit to Pemberley. Did he not wish to remember their time at his estate? Did her memory repaint the picture of those days with inaccuracies of fact and feeling?

Suddenly feeling foolish, and a bit sad, she searched for another topic, but the weight of the valentine—along with her growing doubts—kept her from landing upon any that might suit him.

To her relief, their maid came into the room and announced that dinner was served.

As Elizabeth watched the rest of the room rise and move towards the door, she immediately noticed that she had been left behind with Mr. Darcy. They would be the last two to take their leave from the room, and her heart almost leapt out of her chest at the realisation.

For a brief few seconds, they would be out of sight of everyone else in the party. This was her chance, and she knew she had to seize it.

Pushing aside the doubts his refusal to engage upon the topic of Pemberley had raised within her, she made her choice. Carefully removing the envelope, with its precious note inside, she hid it in her hands as Mr. Darcy offered to escort her to the dining room.

She stalled for a second, not taking his arm. As soon as she saw Mary's back go through to the hall, she quickly slipped the envelope out of its hiding place and into Darcy's hand.

"For you," she said somewhat breathlessly, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. "Please, keep it for yourself and no other."

Flushing deeply, she fled from the room and followed the rest of her family, uncaring of what they might think of her for not entering with Mr. Darcy.

After a split second, she dared a quick glance behind her. She saw Darcy standing completely still by the entrance of the sitting room, an expression of shock framing his features. He seemed to catch himself after a moment, stuffing the envelope into his jacket and Elizabeth sighed with relief.

Facing forward, a soft smile spread across her lips as she saw with satisfaction that no one had seen her covert delivery.