“But a dowry can only do so much,” Mrs. Long said firmly. “It is no wonder they remain unmarried.”
Darcy’s patience began to wear thin, though he remained outwardly composed. Fitzwilliam, however, appeared to be enjoying himself immensely.
“And the Gouldings?” Fitzwilliam asked, his eyes alight with mischief. He had certainly made the most of his time with the younger Bennet girls, for he had seemingly committed the names of the most prominent families to memory.
Mrs. Long’s expression soured slightly. “Oh, the Gouldings have no daughters, only boys. And those boys, I am afraid, have no interest in Meryton girls. They are always gallivanting about London, where the company is showier but not of better quality.”
Darcy allowed himself a faint smile. Fitzwilliam’s friendly manner had eased the way for the ladies to speak openly. Mrs. Long seemed increasingly comfortable, and the nieces were clearly eager to present themselves as the most eligible women in Meryton.
“What of the other families, madam?” Fitzwilliam inquired.
Mrs. Long leaned forward conspiratorially. “The Longs have been on this land for nearly two hundred years. My husband and I have no children, but his brother had two daughters, and when their mother died, they came to us. We are very grateful, for they are such good girls, and they will have both this house and their father’s one day.”
Mrs. Long’s home was not a working estate.
“The Bennets think themselves quite grand, but they only came to Longbourn because Mr. Bennet’s uncle died before he wed. And Mr. Bennet’s father was in mourning for his wife and never remarried.” She sounded piqued.
No mother. That was all Darcy could take. He checked his watch.
“You must stay for tea!” Mrs. Long cried. “And perhaps a game of whist.”
Darcy rose, his expression polite but firm. “We are grateful for your hospitality, Mrs. Long, but I am afraid we must decline. We have other visits to make today.”
“You are fortunate in your nieces, Mrs. Long,” Fitzwilliam said with a gallant bow of his head toward Miss Long and Miss Agatha. “They possess both elegance and good sense.”
Both young women blushed, and Mrs. Long preened visibly at the compliment. “You are too kind, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
He certainly was. Darcy cleared his throat lightly. “Your insights into the families of Meryton are most enlightening, Mrs. Long. I confess that my last visit left me sadly uninformed about the area. I am grateful for your generosity.”
Mrs. Long’s chest puffed with pride. “You are quite welcome, Mr. Darcy. And I will keep your visit in the strictest confidence. I know how easily the wrong sort of talk can spread, and I would not wish to misrepresent your intentions.”
The woman thought to encourage their interest in her nieces and did not want to alert anyone that Darcy was more kindly disposed to the local ladies than had been previously believed and that his cousin was everything charming. Her hopes were presumptuous and wrong, but they would work to his advantage.
Darcy nodded. “Your discretion is appreciated.”
As they rose to take their leave, Fitzwilliam lingered for a moment, offering a final smile to the nieces. “Perhaps another time.”
Miss Long smiled softly, and Miss Agatha stammered a polite response, her cheeks pink. Mrs. Long, meanwhile, glowed with satisfaction.
Once back in the carriage, Darcy exhaled heavily, shooting Fitzwilliam a look of exasperation. “You made that far too enjoyable for her. You are on your own for tea and whist.”
Fitzwilliam shook his head. “Nonsense. I only said, ‘perhapsanother time.’ Sufficiently vague. Besides, unlike you, I have nothing against returning for refreshments and a little entertainment. A soldier must find company where he can.”
“I do wish you would stop crying poor.”
“Compared to you, we are all poor.” Fitzwilliam stretched out his legs. “Well, cousin, we came for a crumb and left with a morsel.”
Darcy’s mood darkened. “Mr. Bennet was likely past his christening when he arrived with his father and no mother. I have only learned that which may support my being a usurper.”
“We need more than this to uncover the truth,” Fitzwilliam scoffed. “Mrs. Long is clearly desirous of damaging what she sees as the Bennet girls’ chances with us in favour of her nieces. And even if what she says is true, it could all simply be a coincidence.”
Mrs. Long was self-interested, that much was true. But being a gossip did not necessarily make her wrong.
Chapter Nine
The Gardiners were gone back to London. Elizabeth was sorry they had left early but contented herself with the promise of a long walk. She asked for her cloak and, while she waited for Mr. Hill, tied the ribbon of her bonnet, pulling the fabric out into a jaunty bow.
Jane paused to watch her sister. “It is a brisk morning,” she warned.
