The young girl ran into her arms, thrilled by the response of the crowd. Elizabeth leaned down to give the girl a hug, and then the two hurriedly returned upstairs.
Once up in Emily’s room, the young girl turned to Elizabeth. “What happened? You played the song differently than we had practiced!”
Elizabeth drew her hand over the young girl’s head, combing her fingers down her long hair. “I am so sorry, Emily. I lost my place for a moment, but I do not think anyone noticed. You did a fine job disguising my mistake.”
A satisfied smile graced Emily’s face. “I did, did I not?”
“You certainly did.”
After readying Emily for bed and allowing her to read a few more books, Elizabeth returned to her room. She was grateful for the solitude as she thought back to that moment when she saw Mr. Darcy walk in. While she had prepared herself for seeing Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley, she was certainly not expecting to encounter Mr. Darcy. She was surprised that it was not anger she felt when she first saw him. Perhaps all of Rosalyn’s words of praise about the man had begun to soften her prejudice against him. Certainly she knew, both from his letter and a year of reflection, that he was basically a good man, just as she had affirmed to Rosalyn.
As she thought about the moment she saw him walk in, she realized that she had been struck by the intensity of his eyes. When his gaze met hers, every thought about where she was and what she was doing vanished. While knowing the song well, it took her a moment to compose herself. She could only do that by averting her eyes and lowering her head so as not to see him.
She turned and saw a reflection of herself in her mirror. Confusing emotions began to swirl within as she noticed the grey dress. She recalled Emily’s words earlier, wishing she could have been prettier tonight. She was suddenly gripped with distress that Mr. Darcy had seen her that way. Perhaps that was the reason for the look in his eyes. He was appalled at how much she was altered.
She shook her head and pounded her fists against her dress. She must not allow herself to think this way. “I have no reason to fret about what he thinks of me,” she whispered to her reflection, “whether he thinks I am altered or not!”
When she finally crawled into bed, after listening for some time to the gaiety coming from downstairs, she could not help but wonder who Mr. Darcy would talk to, what he would say, and how Rosalyn would behave around him.
She closed her eyes as she thought how desperately Rosalyn might conduct herself if indeed she felt this would be her only opportunity to secure his notice. Elizabeth knew Mr. Darcy well enough to know that he would not look kindly upon any behaviour displayed to attract his notice. She hoped Rosalyn would behave in a prudent and artless manner.
It was difficult to fall asleep, even after voices became subdued and guests began to depart. She found herself waiting for Rosalyn to come bursting into the room to give her an account of the evening. While she dreaded it, she was surprised to realize that a small part of her hoped to hear all that transpired over the course of the evening.
In the early hours of the morning the house was dark and quiet. Rosalyn never came to Elizabeth’s room, and Elizabeth lay in bed wide awake. Images of Mr. Darcy’s face, his nod, and his tall, handsome demeanour flooded her thoughts. She knew that even if she were spared these thoughts by sleep coming upon her, he would invade her dreams. And when she did fall asleep just before dawn, he was there just as she had expected.
A spattering of raindrops against the window woke Elizabeth. Pulling her coverlet up over her shoulders, she curled up, grateful that it was Sunday. She could sleep in a little longer before setting out for her aunt and uncle’s.
Her mind swirled with thoughts of last night and the dream that had been so vivid. It did not surprise her that Mr. Darcy was prominent in her dream, but the nature of it came as a surprise to her. She was at his wedding. He was standing up front waiting for his bride to come down the aisle. Rosalyn sat next to Elizabeth, crying inconsolably.
Suddenly the doors to the back of the church opened wide, and everyone turned to see the bride come down the aisle. Elizabeth did not know who the bride was, and was just as anxious as everyone to see who would step out and walk down the aisle to him.
For several moments everyone waited, but no one came. Turning toward the people in the church, Mr. Darcy demanded, “Where is my bride?”
His eyes searched the crowded church as young ladies called out asking, “Is it me? Is it me?”
He grew impatient, and finally turned and noticed Elizabeth; his eyes glared out at her. “What are you doing over there, Elizabeth?” he demanded to know.
She looked down, and to her dismay, saw that she was wearing a wedding gown.
She awoke suddenly, her heart beating wildly. His gaze, looking out at her in her dream, was just as real to her as his gaze last evening. She shook her head as she tried to rid her mind of thoughts of him. Her hand went up and covered her mouth as she realized with a start that in truth she had begun to think differently about him. Her eyes widened as she contemplated this.
Elizabeth wondered why Rosalyn had not come to her last evening to enlighten her about all the events from the previous night. Perhaps Rosalyn’s hopes were dashed? Perhaps there was something she discovered about him that made her realize he was not her ideal? Could she have realized that her belief—her hope—that he had formed an attachment to her was erroneous?
Elizabeth took her time getting ready, and just as she was about to leave her room to go downstairs, there was a knock at the door.
“Elizabeth, it is Rosalyn. May I come in?”
Just anticipating the purpose of the visit prompted Elizabeth to feel somewhat anxious, but she cheerfully answered, “Do come in, Rosalyn.”
A sombre-faced young lady walked in. She lacked all the cheerfulness and sparkle that her other visits had. Elizabeth could only imagine what prompted this and hoped that whatever it was, Rosalyn would soon recover from it.
Rosalyn walked away from Elizabeth toward the window, and then abruptly turned back toward her. “You did not tell me of all your dealings with Mr. Darcy. I cannot believe you kept it from me.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and her mouth went dry. Before she was able to answer, Rosalyn continued, “He told us everything. How could you not have told me?”
Feeling her hands begin to shake, Elizabeth clasped them together tightly. She could not imagine Mr. Darcy informing them of his proposal and her refusal, and did not know what to say. “Rosalyn, I am sorry that I did not tell you. I am truly surprised that Mr. Darcy did. You must think me completely devoid of reason and a fool!”
Rosalyn stepped forward and reached out to Elizabeth. “Certainly not,” she said as she smiled softly. “It is not your fault that Mr. Bingley prefers your sister to Miss Darcy. Poor Miss Darcy. I hope she does not take this too hard.”
Trying to comprehend all that Rosalyn was saying, Elizabeth simply asked, “What? What about Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley?”
“Oh, I am sorry. I jumped ahead of myself. Mr. Darcy confidentially informed us that he was here last night in Mr. Bingley’s place, as there was no longer any attachment between Mr. Bingley and his sister. He went on to say that Mr. Bingley had realized that he still had strong feelings for a young lady he knew previously… and that young lady was your sister, Jane!”
Great relief flooded Elizabeth, mingled with a profusion of joy! She leaned over and hugged Rosalyn. “You do not know how happy this makes me! I must confess that I was surprised when I saw Mr. Bingley with Miss Darcy when they came to the house, and was so disheartened when I heard that an engagement between them was expected by all. I felt that all hope was gone for my sister. I was so in despair for Jane that I did not have the heart to even tell her that I had seen him, and I still have not.”