Apparently, his aunt thought so, or perhaps she would not have mentioned it.
He nodded in response to his aunt’s subtle praise. “It is their wish to be involved in the preparations. Those who were raised at the orphanage comprehend the import of festive occasions such as this in the children’s lives.”
Elizabeth said, “The way I understand it, most of those employed by my aunt and uncle—even some of the men who work in my uncle’s warehouse—also grew up at the orphanage. Our kitchen maid and the groomsman at Longbourn, as well.”
She glanced at Darcy for a moment. The prettiest of blushes graced her cheeks before she quickly turned her attention to her sister.
His heart skipped a beat; as usual, he could not look away from her.
Yes, this must have been how his aunt recognized he felt deeply for Elizabeth, even while he denied it to himself all this time. However, he could reject these sentiments no longer.
This was not infatuation, as he had been trying to convince himself. He was completely enchanted by her.
It was amazing how quickly one’s expectations for the future could change.
Had Elizabeth recognized his feelings for her, as well? Is that the reason she flushed just a few moments ago?
Was it also the cause of her hesitation to collaborate with him? Was she afraid to encourage his interest?
Determination filled his heart. The question of whether the remainder of his life would be filled with happiness or marred by misery depended on his finding a way to persuade Elizabeth to care for him.
Chapter 12
“I was examining these piles of clothing earlier,” said Elizabeth, desperately trying not to meet Mr. Darcy’s gaze. There was no telling how she would react to being in such close quarters so soon after she had realized her feelings for him. Her face was heating now in anticipation, and she was not even looking at him.
Do not think of it, Lizzy!
Moving her hands from one pile to the other to distract him from her face, she continued, “It looks as if each blouse, a skirt, or a pair of trousers for the boys, of course, along with two pairs of wool stockings, are marked with a slip of paper with the child’s name. We need to match them up and add two handkerchiefs for each child.”
Mr. Darcy added, “We should also retrieve the card labelled with the same child’s name, which will eventually be pinned to the final bundle.”
Elizabeth moved to the first pile again and handed to Mr. Darcy the blouse which was marked with the name “Karen Smith.” Elizabeth then shifted to search through the second pile for the same name attached to a skirt. After she passed off the stockings and a couple of handkerchiefs, Mr. Darcy made his way to the table his aunt had assigned to them. Elizabeth searched through the stack of cards, which Georgiana had painted so beautifully, looking for the correct name.
When she re-joined him, she realized their table was rather small. Mr. Bingley and Jane were standing nearby, watching Mr. Darcy fold the cloth into a neat stack that was longer in one direction than the other.
Mr. Darcy instructed, “Through the years, we have found this to be the best size and shape.”
“Can I give it a go?” Mr. Bingley asked. “This way, you can instruct me if I make a mistake.”
“Certainly.” Mr. Darcy ran a finger across the table top. “Do you see the lines painted here and here, Bingley? They are your guides.”
Elizabeth glanced around. Each group was using a similar table, which were higher than most of the tables around the room. Even Mr. Darcy did not need to stoop to work there. Did the late Mrs. Darcy have them constructed for this purpose, though they were only to be used twice a year?
It was too personal a question to ask, but she did think of another she could pose aloud. “Why are we to roll them into a cylinder?”
She realized it had been a mistake to voice her question when Mr. Darcy looked up from what Mr. Bingley was doing and caught her gaze. The intensity of the feelings that coursed through her when their eyes met sent her heart into a flutter.
She blinked, then forced herself to look away so she could continue. “Why not tie them together whilst they are folded into a square?”
“Years ago, my mother and aunt discovered that configuration does not hold everything together as securely. Some parts may become separated.”
Elizabeth nodded. The family had a great deal of experience with this event and were well prepared. “I imagine the guides on the table also make the packages seem as if they are of equivalent size, no matter how large or small the clothing.”
He smiled slightly. “As much as possible. The parcels for the older children are usually thicker, though we try our best to roll them more tightly, so they are as alike as possible.” He turned to his friend, who had finished his attempt. “Well done, Bingley.”
Mr. Darcy directed the next to the ladies. “Whilst gentlemen might have more experience with tying knots with the string, we have also found ladies usually tie the ribbon with a proficiency that gentlemen do not have.” He paused. “Miss Bennet, would you care to tie the first one?”
Jane agreed to do so.
Mr. Darcy took a ribbon from a basket holding many different coloured strands and handed it to her. “Tie this the long way whilst Bingley continues to hold it in place, so the parcel does not unravel. Then I will show you how to secure the string. Both are useful items for the children.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “To my knowledge, there may not be many boys who would consider a ribbon as valuable.”
“They can use them as bookmarks or gift them to a favourite teacher. Many of the children also have siblings.”
“I had not considered it in that sense. Your family has put a great deal of thought into this.”
“Not only my family, Miss Elizabeth. All of our helpers have influenced the event—your aunt and uncle, for instance. There are others who sew, but for whatever reason cannot contribute time to the event itself.” He grinned. “For example, the Bennet family’s support has gone unacknowledged all these years.”
As her face heated once again, she returned her attention to Jane and Mr. Bingley. Their efforts had caused them to become quite physically near, and she realized she and Mr. Darcy would end up being as close to each other as they were.
Goodness, how would she manage to get through this day?
When Jane finished crafting a pretty bow, Mr. Darcy lifted a length of string. “I am aware of your knowledge, Bingley, but ladies, have you ever tied a single-strand woven knot? It is also called a turkshead knot.”
“I am not certain.” Elizabeth looked at Jane, who was shaking her head.
He moved the string, braiding it in on itself.
After Mr. Darcy progressed, Elizabeth perked up. “I see we do know how to create a turkshead knot, though we did not know what it was called. Our father taught it to us when the ribbon holding our reticules frayed too often. Braiding the ribbon in this manner makes it much stronger, and it is decorative, too. It is convenient, as well since there is no need for more than one ribbon.”
“It is said that sailors who miss their ladies sometimes use this knot to construct bracelets and other items to gift to their loved ones when they arrive home,” Mr. Darcy said, his attention still on weaving the string around one end of the package. She assumed it was because he now knew he did not have to teach them how to braid it that he quickened his pace. “I have also noticed you use it on your bonnets, at times, Miss Elizabeth. I did not know whether you tied the pattern yourself.”