Darcy’s gaze drifted to Miss Elizabeth. She was watching her sister with an expression of pure joy, her hands clasped together in delight. When she caught him looking, their eyes met, and he found himself smiling despite his resolve not to raise any expectations, including his own. To his surprise, she smiled back, the connection between them fleeting but strong.
He noticed Miss Lucas as well. To her credit, she appeared truly pleased for Miss Bennet, her congratulations sincere even as Lady Lucas quietly fumed. Darcy found himself respecting Miss Lucas more than he had expected. To maintain such composure and offer genuine good wishes while her own engagement toast had been clearly overshadowed was no small feat.
As the conversation resumed, Darcy turned his attention to Mr. Bennet. The man sat in his chair with an expressionof quiet satisfaction as he watched the effects of his second announcement. There was an air of detachment about him, as though he was merely watching a particularly entertaining performance.
How unlike his father this man was. George Darcy had been a man of compassion, and while he would not be cheated, he had always been careful not to cause unnecessary offence. But then, his parents had shared a deep, abiding love, one that his father had always said made him a better man. That did not appear to be something that could be said of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. Darcy’s gaze shifted again to Elizabeth, his thoughts returning, unbidden, to his growing feelings for her. Try as he might, he could not suppress them. They had taken root, persistent and impossible to ignore, despite the hopelessness of their situation.
He glanced further down the table and noticed Fitzwilliam. His cousin was in fine spirits, his gregariousness on full display. The younger Bennet sisters were giggling at some witticism of his, and even Lady Lucas seemed to have thawed slightly under his attentions.
Darcy shook his head. Fitzwilliam’s tactics were transparent to him, but as no one but the Darcys knew him, they were effective.
Dinner might be over, but the evening was just beginning.
When the gentlemen assembled in Mr. Bennet’s study after the meal, the atmosphere was lively and genial. Fitzwilliam wasted no time in assuming the role of host, though it was neither his home nor his family. With an air of cheerful command, he strode to the sideboard, decanter in hand.
“Gentlemen,” he began, pouring generously, “no evening such as this should pass without another proper toast—or several. A double engagement deserves nothing less!” He handed the first glass to Sir William Lucas.
“Capital idea, Colonel!” Sir William exclaimed, raising his glass before taking a hearty sip. “A fine way to cap a fine evening.”
Fitzwilliam moved on, filling glasses with enthusiasm. “Mr. Collins. A man engaged to such a fine lady surely deserves a generous pour.”
“Indeed!” Mr. Collins declared, puffing out his chest. Sir William lifted his glass again, echoing a jovial, “Hear, hear!”
Fitzwilliam poured another glass with a sly grin and held it out. “And you, Darcy.” He leaned in to say softly, “Do try to keep up.”
Darcy arched a brow but accepted his glass with a faint smirk. “I shall do my best.”
Finally, Fitzwilliam turned to Bingley, who had been watching the proceedings with his characteristic good humour. “Bingley, surely a gentleman celebrating the very first evening of his own engagement deserves the largest pour of all.”
Bingley laughed as Fitzwilliam handed him a glass filled nearly to the brim. “You flatter me, Colonel,” he said. “But I shall not refuse such generosity.”
Mr. Bennet’s shaggy brows lifted in amused consternation, and he held out his left hand to take his own drink. “Very generous indeed, withmyport.”
Once everyone was properly armed with wine, Fitzwilliam leaned casually against the mantelpiece, his gaze sweeping the room. “Now then,” he began, “when new officers join my regiment, it is customary to share a glass or two. The purpose is not merely camaraderie, though that is important, but to ensure we understand one another’s origins and aims. Such knowledge builds trust, without which no battalion can succeed.”
He lifted his glass in a casual salute. “The connections between friends and families are no different. Though we are not bound by war, we are bound by duty, and understanding is thefoundation of harmony. So, as we sit together in such excellent fellowship tonight, I propose we do as soldiers might and share a little of our stories. Bingley, will you begin?”
“If you insist, Fitzwilliam. My story is rather prosaic, however.”
Fitzwilliam seized the opportunity. “Oh, come now, Bingley! Surely you have a tale worth sharing. At least tell us how you came to lease Netherfield Park.”
Bingley chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Yes, I suppose the story has its share of misadventures. When my man of business first wrote to me about the lease, he described it as ‘a fine house with excellent prospects,’ but I confess I was not entirely attentive.”
Darcy sipped at his port before setting it down again, determined not to lose his own wits as a result of Fitzwilliam’s game.
“The letter had arrived just as my sisters and I were setting out for a dance, you see,” Bingley was saying.
Bingley and his dances. At least now he would not make calf’s eyes at every pretty woman in attendance. “And you decided to take the property unseen?” Darcy inquired, fully expecting his friend to answer in the affirmative.
“Not entirely,” Bingley replied amiably. “Though I was so distracted by the prospect of the ball that I might as well have. By the time I arrived to view the property a fortnight later, I thought the place rather grand but somewhat in need of repair.”
“What changed your mind?” Fitzwilliam asked, intrigued. At least, he appeared to be.
“The stables,” Bingley said. “The moment I saw them, I knew the house would do.”
Darcy shook his head, his voice laced with dry humour. “So it was not the ‘excellent prospects,’ but the stables that won you over?”
“Indeed,” Bingley replied, laughing. “It meant that I might have a great many visitors all at once, you know, if I had a mind to. Caroline remains convinced it was the worst decision I ever made, but” he added with a meaningful glance toward Darcy, “I think it has worked out rather well, myself.”
