“Are you on your way to Pemberley, Mr Darcy?” she asked with effort.
“No, Miss Elizabeth. I had just arrived in London on urgent business when Charles asked me to accompany him to Netherfield for the day.”
He did not dare to read her face too closely, but for the moment, Elizabeth seemed to be enjoying his presence. Perhaps his wish to believe in a change had deceived him, yet he could not prevent himself from admiring her beauty again, so different from her sister’s. Miss Bennet was the perfect subject for a wonderful painting, whilst Elizabeth was alive. He admired her in every circumstance, even when she was furious.
Jane and Bingley stepped out into the garden through the glass doors, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy in a silence that both found frustrating.
The situation was saved by voices and laughter in the hall, and Mr Bennet, accompanied by Thomas Bennet, entered the parlour.
Darcy stood at once, grateful that the strange situation was about to end, but facing the two men only deepened his perplexity. Seen together, the resemblance between the two gentlemen was remarkable.
“Mr Darcy, welcome to Netherfield!” Mr Bennet said. Then, looking out into the garden, he smiled, forgetting Elizabeth and Darcy as he saw his eldest daughter with Mr Bingley. It took him a few moments before he turned again to those in the room. “Dear uncle, please allow me to present Mr Darcy, a family friend.”
Thomas, as unceremonious as ever, shook his hand. “I am sorry, Mr Darcy; over the last forty years, I have forgotten how to bow!”
He laughed, and Elizabeth observed with astonishment that Darcy relaxed in the presence of her father and uncle. Even his posture seemed less rigid, and his smile became genuine and friendly. It was possible that she herself made him uncomfortable, a discovery that made her want to laugh and cry at once.
“Congratulations, sir, on acquiring this excellent property!” Darcy said, and to Elizabeth’s surprise, her father thanked him with evident satisfaction. He began to feel that he owned Netherfield. That was a considerable wonder to his daughter, who remembered that only a few days earlier, he had still been unhappy to abandon his library and his daily habits. She suspected that her father was taking some small revenge; not on his own behalf, since he cared little for such matters, but on behalf of his daughters, who had not always been graciously received in that house. As absent as they often believed him to be, Elizabeth was inclined to think that her father knew most of what happened around him.
“Thank you, Mr Darcy!” he answered. “My uncle, Mr Thomas Bennet, is to blame. He came and turned our lives upside down.”
There was no torment in Mr Bennet’s look as he turned towards Thomas. On the contrary, his admiration and gratitude were plainly visible.
“Sometimes you need a stranger to change the rules in a family,” Thomas said with his usual informality.
The two Bennet gentlemen smiled, an identical expression upon both faces, like brothers rather than uncle and nephew.
Darcy could not help hoping that Thomas Bennet might also change the opinion of one member of the family. The older gentleman seemed an unexpected ally. If Elizabeth’s uncle approved of him, half the battle might already be won, for she was plainly enchanted by the remarkable man who had remoulded their lives.
By then, the two lovebirds had returned from the garden, and their lost gazes told the whole story; forgiveness had taken place, and clearly more besides.
Again, the introduction was made, but Bingley did not sit. His excitement was so apparent that Thomas, addressing his nephew, said, “Edward, I think the works in the library are finished. You may invite Mr Bingley there.”
Bingley looked at that providential uncle with such gratitude that those assembled, except Jane, hid a smile.
“Yes, please, Mr Bennet. I should like a short meeting with you.”
Jane blushed deeply, prompting Elizabeth to pour her a glass of water, but she was unable to speak or drink. She only watched her father and her future husband as they disappeared from the parlour.
In an unspoken agreement, those remaining in the room left Jane to enjoy her happiness, whilst the conversation between Thomas and Darcy sprang up naturally. They both liked riding and hunting, and in no time, Thomas had accepted an invitation to Pemberley, whilst he himself invited Darcy to a hunting party the following morning.
Elizabeth was glad to discover that he was not in a hurry to leave for London.
“Of course, you are welcome to stay here at Netherfield,” Thomas said.
Once again, Elizabeth considered how strange life was. Less than a year before, they had been guests in that house, and now they were inviting Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley to spend a few days in their home. At least Mr Darcy had proposed to her before knowing that she was one of Netherfield’s heiresses. That was in his favour, although he had not liked her family. With Uncle Thomas, however, his resentment and fear seemed to have vanished; the two men enjoyed one another’s company, that was certain. Perhaps Uncle Thomas also felt a little out of place in the solitude of Longbourn, with only her father as a companion.
She tried not to smile, so intense were her uncle’s stories and Darcy’s attention.
“I hope, Mr Darcy,” she said, “you will not fall in love with Africa and leave England.”
Both men looked at her with the same curiosity.
“Not if there is something else that might prevent me from loving Africa too much,” Darcy replied, and his meaning was so clear that Uncle Thomas nodded in satisfaction.
He liked Darcy, and with every passing moment, his first impression seemed justified. He had plans for Elizabeth, certain that London would appreciate an intelligent heiress, though not every man in that society would choose her as a wife. He hoped to discover in Fitzwilliam Darcy the kind ofgentleman interested in a companion rather than a housekeeper. In his favour stood the proposal that his great-niece had angrily refused, since pride and prejudice might be corrected, whilst honesty could never be acquired where it was missing. Darcy was indeed a little rigid, but he looked upon Elizabeth as if she were a miracle, exactly as her uncle wished any future husband to look upon his niece. Mr Darcy was a man, not a youngster like Mr Bingley, and his admiration for Elizabeth was even more precious because he did not make decisions in haste. Of course, in the duchess’s house, Elizabeth would meet other gentlemen, but a little competition was precisely what was needed to select the best husband for his secretly favourite great-niece.
Then voices sounded in the hall, and Jane sprang from her seat, her cheeks on fire.
