Page 11 of One Good Sonnet

Darcy risked a glance at Miss Elizabeth. Her brows were furrowed in confusion as she glanced back and forth between him and her sister.

“You have met?” she asked. “When?”

“It was briefly some years ago,” Miss Bennet replied in a rush. “Not worth mentioning.”

Darcy felt pain at her words. Miss Bennet had been his first infatuation as a man. He had not loved her, no, but had they been allowed to continue their relationship, perhaps…it did not bear thinking of. Bingley was as good as engaged to her. Darcy had no wish to interfere.

I must apologize to her. Darcy thought of the circumstances surrounding their parting so many years ago. He had never been granted a chance to explain himself. Providence, it seemed, had a sense of humor.

“Well, now that introductions are out of the way, let us partake of tea,” Mrs. Bennet said into the awkward silence.

There were noises of agreement, and Bingley took up a seat beside Miss Bennet. Darcy sat in an adjacent chair and was followed by Miss Elizabeth. The conversation was neutral, thankfully, and no one spoke of the strange coincidence that Darcy had already met Miss Bennet.

“I am eager for the ball tomorrow,” Mr. Bingley said at length. “Caroline has exhausted herself with preparations.”

“I am sure the evening will be marvelous,” Miss Bennet replied.

As the conversation progressed around him, Darcy compared the lady before him to his memories. She had blossomed. Miss Bennet had always been lovely, but now she was beautiful. Something guarded about her features, though, spoke of heartbreak and hesitant trust. With Bingley she was animated, but every time she glanced his way, her expression shuttered, and she adopted a polite mask.

Darcy was no fool. He could tell he had hurt her.

Miss Elizabeth made no effort to engage him in conversation, either. Her open disposition had turned to one of suspicion. Darcy could only conclude that her sister had not told her in full what had occurred seven years ago.

Nothing untoward had happened. No, Darcy had called upon Miss Bennet with the hopes of furthering their acquaintance. Then he had been called away. By the time he was free to return, she and her family had departed.

At length, the time for the call passed and Bingley rose. Darcy followed suit, bidding the Bennet ladies farewell.

What had begun as a promising morning had quickly deteriorated into confusion and distress.

Bingley had scarcely mounted his horse before he turned to Darcy. “Whatever did you do to Miss Bennet, Darcy?” His voice was thick with accusation.

Having already resolved to tell Bingley about the past, Darcy sighed. “I was young, Bingley, merely one-and-twenty. Miss Bennet was fifteen years old. We met, I called upon her…and then my father suffered an apoplexy. I was called away. In my panic, I neglected to take my leave of anyone.”

“Were there…romantic feelings?” Bingley pressed.

“After a manner. Had our time together not been cut short, I am unsure if we would have made a match of it. Suffice it to say, I have no feelings for Miss Bennet now. I mean to explain myself to her, however. From her perspective, I abandoned her without thought for her feelings.”

“Did you not know her estate? Her home?”

“I knew her name and her estate. My memories recall that she said Herefordshire, not Hertfordshire. I suppose I could have misheard. No, so much time had passed before my father was well enough for me to leave…I did not feel it appropriate to seek her out.”

Bingley was satisfied. “You are my closest friend. If she is uneasy in your company, that will make things exceedingly awkward. Pray, beg her forgiveness as soon as may be.”

“I will. Perhaps I will be given an opportunity at the ball tomorrow.”

“I shall help you.”

Elizabeth cornered Jane as soon as the gentlemen left.

“Explain yourself,” she demanded.

“You are not entitled to my every thought, sister.” Jane’s tone was teasing, but Elizabeth could read the anxiety in her eyes.

“You know Mr. Darcy?” she pressed.

“We met briefly years ago while I was on holiday with the Gardiners.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. She and Jane had each been on holiday with their aunt and uncle many times since they came out at fifteen.