“Friendship is about quality rather than quantity, then?” he said. “Many love to boast about their connections—the more friends, the more value a person has to others.”
“Friendship and connections are not the same thing.” Elizabeth toyed idly with a bit of lace on her gown. “If one seeks only for connections to raise their status, their focus may be on superficial qualifications. When I call someone a friend, I look more at their character than what they can do for my standing.”
Darcy frowned. “Then you put no stock in connections?”
“What use have I for those? No, it is much better to be sure of those with whom I associate. They will not abandon me when someone better connected—someone with more to offer socially—comes along.”
She smiled cheekily, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Darcy felt, once more, that disquieting sense of recognition, as though she were brushing against truths he preferred not to examine too closely.
“You speak as though abandonment is a familiar concern,” he said carefully.
Her smile softened, though it did not fade. “Life teaches us all something of constancy and its absence, does it not? Some learn early which bonds endure and which are conditional.”
He studied her then, really studied her. There was nothing defensive in her manner, no trace of bitterness—only assurance. It unsettled him far more than wounded pride ever could.
“You believe affection should exist independent of advantage,” he said.
“I believe,” she replied, “that affection which depends upon advantage is not affection at all.”
The words struck him with unexpected force.
“You would have the world governed by ideals,” he said, half in challenge.
“I would have people govern themselves with integrity,” she returned lightly. “The world may do as it pleases.”
For a moment, Darcy could think of no response. He was keenly aware of Bingley and Miss Bennet conversing nearby, ofMrs. Bennet watching them with all the attentiveness of a proper chaperone, of the quiet domestic harmony of the room. And yet, all of it receded beneath the singular clarity of Elizabeth’s presence.
She speaks as though she stands apart from consequence,he thought.Either she is naïve beyond measure…or she knows far more than she allows.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said at last, “you surprise me.”
Her smile this time was gentler. “I am told that is not uncommon.”
Darcy leaned back in his chair, unsettled, intrigued, and no closer to understanding her than when he had entered the room. One thing, however, had become painfully clear.
Miss Elizabeth was not at all the sort of young woman he could easily dismiss. And that, he suspected, was precisely the danger.
“Bingley, I must tell you, it was deeply unsettling to overhear a discussion of changes to Netherfield when we entered Longbourn.” Darcy frowned from his seat across from his friend.
The carriage pulled away from Longbourn, and Bingley turned to stare at Darcy. “Yes, I heard it. What did you make of it?”
Darcy had expected Bingley to brush it off. Perhaps his friend was wiser than he had imagined. “I suppose Miss Elizabeth merely seeks to aid her sister. But it is clear that the expectation of an offer of marriage is in place. You must decide if you mean to pursue this folly or step back.”
“I hardly know. My discussions with Miss Bennet are warm and amiable. I feel as though she cares for me, but your words—and Caroline’s—have put me on my guard. I do not trust myself.”
“Then let me help. You know you could do better than Miss Bennet. Your fortune can command more than a modest dowry.” Darcy thought it possible that his friend could marry the daughter of a baronet if he waited patiently.
“Even Caroline has not ferreted out the precise nature of the Bennets’ circumstances beyond the entailment and modest dowries. Not everyone flaunts their wealth as you do, Darcy.”
“That is hardly fair.” Darcy did not flaunt his wealth. He enjoyed the luxuries his fortune provided—that was all.
“Forgive me. I am merely…Forgive me.” Bingley fell silent, gazing out the carriage window.
The rest of the ride back to Netherfield was spent in quiet contemplation. Darcy knew he was in great danger. His fascination with Miss Elizabeth could not be left unchecked.
I shall conquer this. I shall.
