“Ooooh, do tell.” Colonel Fitzwilliam rubbed his hands. “You have sparked my curiosity, and I will not rest until the spark has lit straw on fire — just what is Darcy known as the one who?”
The girl flushed and looked down. “Ah, nothing. Nothing.”
“Nothing complimentary, I hope,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “For if you are too embarrassed to praise my cousin to his face directly, you need not worry. His pride is always under good regulation.”
“Don’t bother the poor dear,” Bingley said bowing past the servant. “Jane in the drawing room? — thank you, very much.”
As they followed Bingley, Colonel Fitzwilliam whispered, “Perhaps the one who can barely speak a word in company when he does not like or know the people?”
“Most likely the one who is so rich, tall and handsome,” Darcy whispered back.
Bingley paused as he put his hand on the drawing roomdoor’s handle. “From something said, I believe there was some displeasure regarding how you had not called when you and Elizabeth were in London in December. Nonsense, of course.”
The tone with which Bingley said that showed thathisloyalty on the matter was clearly given more to Miss Bennet’s family than to Darcy.
Upon their being ushered into the drawing room, Miss Bennet — Jane — leapt up from the table to beam at Bingley.
If the expression on her face was an act, Jane was an actress of exceptional ability.
But it wasn’t. She loved Bingley.
After the first embrace of the engaged couple, Jane looked at him with an uncertain expression.
A gentleman rose from the couch, where he had a copy ofThe Timesspread out before him on a low table. He had a facial similarity that reminded Darcy somehow of Elizabeth, and even more strongly of Jane and Mrs. Bennet.
The sharpness in his eyes showed more of Elizabeth than Mrs. Bennet, or even Jane.
Next to him a fashionable looking woman with a friendly smile and clever eyes also came to stand.
Bingley made the introductions, “This is Mr. Darcy, my dear friend, and Miss Elizabeth’s — I mean Mrs. Darcy’s… I mean Elizabeth’s husband.”
They both laughed.
“And this is his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. Darcy, Fitzwilliam, this is Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Fine capable persons.”
Bows all around.
Mr. Darcy then said, before they had a chance to ask, “I realized when Bingley told me this morning about his plans to call on you that I have been unacceptably backward in having not called on you before. I hope you do not mind that I havechosen to impose on you at such an unseemly hour.”
“And with such an unseemly guest as Colonel Fitzwilliam.” Bingley winked at the officer.
“I am always seemly around lovely women. Now you must introduce me to this angel.” That was said to the giggling eleven-year-old daughter of the house.
“Oh, that is Betsy,” Bingley said offhandedly.
“Mr. Darcy, are you the one who married Cousin Lizzy?” she asked, in a formal mode.
Darcy bowed to her, and said, “I am.”
“Do you have any letters from her?”
“Not with me,” Darcy replied to the child in a serious tone. “Circumstances led me to depart for London in a hurry, but I promise that should I ever come to town without her again, I will make sure Elizabeth has an opportunity to send a package for you.”
“We are not bothered at all by the hour,” Mrs. Gardiner said to Darcy with an easy smile. “We are very glad to see you. Is Elizabeth well?”
“She was…” Darcy always wanted to be scrupulously honest. She had been sobbing the last time he saw her, and he had been full of rage. “She was in good health when I left Pemberley.”
Even that he was not certain about. He suddenly remembered that she’d had little appetite in the mornings for the past two weeks.
