Page 25 of One Good Sonnet

The gentlemen went away, and Elizabeth mingled with the crowd. She learned from Jane that the carriage had been called and Mr. Hurst had taken his wife back to Netherfield.

Mr. Darcy came to her side again, and she greeted him warmly.

“Is Mrs. Hurst well?” she asked.

“As well as can be expected. She has not told her brother what I suspect to be true, so Bingley is more concerned than he ought to be.”

So, Mrs. Hurst was in a delicate situation. Elizabeth had thought so. “She will be well soon. Such sickness cannot last for long.”

She shared a knowing glance with Darcy. Their intimacy warmed her, and for a brief moment Elizabeth imagined telling him she was expecting his child. The images in her mind were so vivid she gasped.

“Are you well?” he asked.

“I am. Only a thought startled me. It is nothing.” How could she tell him she had imagined his hand on her rounded stomach?

He cleared his throat. “I am sorry our conversation was interrupted.”

She shifted nervously. Did he intend to ask for her hand in marriage? Elizabeth was not certain she was ready for that.

“There you are, Elizabeth!” Mrs. Bennet appeared at her side, Mrs. Phillips behind her. “I was just telling my sister about the verses that gentleman wrote to Jane all those years ago. I cannot recall one line—surely Jane showed you. It went something like ‘Bluebell eyes and honey hair…’”

“Goldenrod hair,” Darcy said beside her.

“That is it. Thank you.” Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips were gone before Elizabeth could process what had happened.

“Lizzy! There you are!” Mrs. Gardiner came to her side. “Oh. Mr. Darcy! I wondered if you were Mr. Bingley’s friend.”

“Mrs. Gardiner. What a pleasure to see you again!” Mr. Darcy bowed to Elizabeth’s aunt.

“You know my aunt, Mr. Darcy?”

“Yes, we met seven years ago or so while we were on holiday. Did Jane not tell you?” Mrs. Gardiner beamed. “I am sorry we were forced to depart without bidding you a proper farewell. And what a coincidence that you know Mr. Bingley.”

Several things clicked into place in Elizabeth’s thoughts at once. Mr. Darcy knew Mrs. Gardiner from seven—seven—years before. Mr. Darcy had known the correct wording to Jane’s sonnet. Jane knew Mr. Darcy, too, and had implied he was one of the men who had abandoned her.

No. No, no, no. Mr. Darcy was the Poetical Villain, the very man she had sworn to hate forever for hurting Jane.

“It is you,” she whispered.

“What is that?” Mrs. Gardiner asked.

“Nothing, Aunt. Excuse me. I must go…attend to something.” Elizabeth turned away, her movements stiff with shock. Darcy followed her into the hall.

“Elizabeth,” he began, his tone pleading.

“Not here. Not now. Tomorrow. Oakham Mount.” She could not think. Jane had let her fall in love with a man she had sworn to detest forever.

11

The Death of a Villain

Elizabeth begged her father to accompany her back to Longbourn. Mr. Bennet was happy to oblige. He told Mrs. Bennet that she and Mary had developed megrims, and the three of them escaped. In Elizabeth’s case, it was the truth. Her head hurt as she tried to sort through everything. She could not decide if Jane had betrayed her or helped her. Either way, she could not stay at Haye Park and pretend she was well.

Jane came to her room when the rest of the family returned to Longbourn. She entered quietly and sat on the bed. Elizabeth did not turn to face her.

“I am sorry, dearest. I ought to have told you. Perhaps you would have let go of your hate for a gentleman you had never met.”

“It is him, is it not? How do you bear it?”