Page 33 of Near Pemberley

“An employment,” replied Darcy with calm gravity, “for which I think you particularly qualified.”

Breakfast lingered longer than usual. Even Miss Bingley’s impatience gradually softened beneath the general expectation surrounding the morning. Georgiana spoke little, though several times Darcy observed her glance unconsciously towards the drive below.

By eleven o’clock, servants had begun moving more frequently through the hall. The house itself seemed quietly alert in anticipation of visitors.

Darcy remained outwardly calm.

Only Georgiana, who knew him too well not to perceive every alteration in his manner, noticed that he had not once turned a page of the newspaper lying before him.

The delay occasioned little surprise. Country roads were uncertain, and the Gardiners had named no precise hour.

Still, Darcy found himself repeatedly listening for wheels upon the gravel.

Once, convinced he had heard a carriage approaching, he rose involuntarily and crossed halfway towards the window before realising the sound belonged only to a farm cart passing upon the lower road.

Bingley laughed good-humouredly. “Upon my word, Darcy, you are as restless as a man awaiting examination results.”

Darcy resumed his seat without answering.

Noon approached.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, the atmosphere altered. Expectation became uncertainty; uncertainty unease.

Even Miss Bingley ceased attempting wit upon the subject.

By one o’clock, anxiety had begun to supersede disappointment.

Something was wrong.

The conviction came slowly, but once admitted, would not leave him.

Elizabeth had not seemed merely willing yesterday.

She had seemed happy.

He recalled her expression at parting with painful clarity. Her voice. Her smile. The openness – cautious still, but unmistakable – with which she had begun at last to meet his attentions.

No. She would not willingly fail them.

Darcy moved again towards the window. The drive below lay bright beneath the afternoon sun, perfectly still and empty. For some moments, he stood there without speaking.

Darcy continued looking towards the drive. “If they had merely been delayed, they would have…”

He stopped.

Then he turned away from the window at last.

“I think they are not coming.”

Darcy remained so still that even Bingley ceased speaking.

Georgiana looked up at him suddenly. Whatever she saw in his expression caused her smile to disappear. “Brother?”

Darcy did not answer.

At last, unwilling to remain any longer in uncertainty, Darcy rang for a servant. “Have the open carriage prepared.” The order surprised even himself by its immediacy.

If some accident had delayed them upon the road – if assistance were required – every moment spent in hesitation became intolerable.