Before Elizabeth could respond, Aunt Gardiner rose smoothly and approached Mrs. Bennet, who was once again watching Jane and Mr. Bingley with undisguised delight. “Fanny,” Aunt Gardiner said warmly, “might I have a word about your New Year’s preparations? I am certain you have planned a most impressive feast, and I should like to hear all about it.”
Mrs. Bennet beamed at the attention. Elizabeth realized that her aunt meant for Mamma to exchange places with her and stood. She sent a grateful glance toward her aunt, appreciating her skill in arranging a room to her liking, and wandered back towards Jane.
Another spirited half an hour passed in convivial conversation, but at last, Colonel Fitzwilliam approached Mamma.
“Mrs. Bennet,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said with a polite nod, “I fear we have overstayed our welcome.”
Before anyone could respond, he turned to where Mr. Bingley and Jane were still engrossed in quiet conversation in the corner. “Bingley, my good man,” he called with mock severity, “you may hold Miss Bennet’s attention as long as you wish at another time, but for today we must leave these good people in peace!”
Bingley flushed and stood slowly. Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands dramatically, smiling with unconcealed delight at Mr. Bingley’s reluctant agreement.
“Such a lovely visit,” Mrs. Bennet gushed, her eyes darting between Jane and Mr. Bingley. “You must come again very soon, Mr. Bingley. And you as well, Miss Darcy, gentlemen!”
The good colonel appeared a bit surprised by this direct application, but Mr. Darcy was unperturbed. He nodded graciously and then held out his arm for his sister.
The Netherfield party made their farewells, and Mr. Darcy gave the Gardiners a courteous nod before following his cousin to the door. Elizabeth watched him go, feeling an odd sort of confusion that lingered even as the door closed behind them.
It was not long before they could see the carriage rolling away. A good thing too, for as everyone but Mary watched the departure through the window, Mamma could not help but exclaim loudly. “Dear Jane! Did I not tell you how it would be?”
After that, everyone else wandered off to other parts of the house. Mamma took her nerves and the younger girls to her sitting room, Mary left for the music room, and Papa wandered back to his book room. When they had all gone, Uncle and Aunt Gardiner turned their attention to Jane and Elizabeth.
Aunt Gardiner reached for Jane’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Well, my dear, you must tell us how you find Mr. Bingley. He seems quite attentive, and I daresay he looked very well pleased to visit and converse with you.”
Jane blushed prettily, her gaze dropping to her lap as she replied. “Mr. Bingley is all that is kind and amiable. I find him very agreeable.”
“And you, Lizzy,” Mr. Gardiner interjected with a teasing smile, “do my eyes deceive me, or has Mr. Darcy grown more civil in his manners?”
Elizabeth tilted her head, feigning nonchalance. “He is certainly more civil than before, but that is hardly a great achievement, given how poorly he began.”
Mrs. Gardiner chuckled softly, rising to her feet. “I should like to hear more about it, but for now, I think we had best retire. I am in need of some rest before dinner.”
After Jane followed them upstairs to her bedchamber, no doubt seeking a little privacy to reflect upon Mr. Bingley’s visit, Elizabeth returned to her father’s study. She was curious about why Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had wished a private conversation with her father. She knocked gently and entered, finding her father seated at his desk, a wry expression on his face as he set down his book with a heavy sigh.
“Papa,” she asked directly, suspecting that his patience was nearly worn out. “What did Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam want?”
Mr. Bennet raised a brow, his mouth twitching in amusement. “You are just like your father, God rest his soul. Why would you be interested in such a matter?”
Elizabeth flushed slightly, though she did not drop her gaze. “I merely wondered what they could find so compelling. They hardly seem the sort to drop in for idle conversation.”
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “You know, Lizzy, I suspect they were hoping to find that we had illustrious connections somewhere.”
“Why would that matter?” she asked but answered herself. “Oh, they were asking on behalf of their friend.” Elizabeth shookher head, amused despite herself. “Yes, I can see how that might disappoint Mr. Darcy. But Mr. Bingley is as enamoured of Jane as ever. I do not think there is much he can do now, other than manage his disappointment.”
Mr. Bennet looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, but then simply tapped his book to signal that their exchange had come to a close. As she pondered on her conclusions, Elizabeth felt oddly reassured that she had not been entirely wrong in her judgement. For all his charitable exertions, Mr. Darcy was still Mr. Darcy.
Chapter Seven
The following day, Darcy sat across from Fitzwilliam in the seldom used library at Netherfield. It was warm, no doubt on orders from Bingley who knew Darcy preferred it to the sitting room. Involuntarily, Darcy recalled sitting here for half an hour, entirely silent while Miss Elizabeth read near the window. He could see her still, her elegant neck bent slightly over the book as the autumn sun streamed in through the glass.
“We need a plan,” Fitzwilliam remarked, and Darcy’s illusion drifted away like smoke from an extinguished fire. “If we are attempting to definitively discern whether Mr. Bennet has any claim, we will need more than a family resemblance.”
“You noted it too, then?” Darcy inquired.
Fitzwilliam scowled. “I noted it.”
It was strange, for if Fitzwilliam had not seen any similarity, Darcy might have been able to tell himself he was wrong about everything and leave this place behind. But knowing that he was not imagining things—somehow, it helped.
“Ihavea plan,” Darcy said. He always had a plan. “We shall visit the church and look at the register for christenings. If Mr. Bennet was churched here, we shall have the date and can compare it with my father’s.”
