“You are so right, your grace,” Mary murmured. “But I shall need a great deal of practice to converse with such elegance.”
“I think you are an intelligent young lady and will discover that elegance without much practice.”
Thus ended another successful lesson, and even Mrs Bennet found herself wondering whether she had ever begun a conversation in such a manner. Then she remembered her old friends and their familiar habits. London was pleasant enough,but Netherfield remained her house, where things were done her way.
On the other side of the table, Mrs Gardiner reached a very different conclusion. She listened to every word the duchess spoke with close attention and considered them carefully. Advice of that sort would have been useful years ago, when her husband’s prosperity had begun to exceed all expectations.
“Do you think I might dare ask her grace’s advice on a few matters?” she asked timidly of Thomas, who was seated beside her.
“Of course, Mrs Gardiner. Pray consider us your aunt and uncle.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied. Once again, Thomas was struck by her excellent manners and by the family’s desire to advance socially without drawing attention to their success.
“I hope we shall see you here very often, madam.”
“We value your invitation very much.”
He noticed the same modesty and good sense, and his thoughts turned briefly to Mr Collins, still the most disagreeable person he had encountered since returning to England.
“And what are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked with interest. “You have the whole morning at your disposal, as the performance does not begin until seven.”
“We are going to Grange Stables. They have a pleasant riding school where Miss Bennet will learn to ride.”
Andrew spoke as though it were the most ordinary thing imaginable, whilst the whole party, with the exception of the duchess, laid down their cutlery as though witnessing a miracle.
“By Miss Bennet, you mean Elizabeth Bennet?” Lydia asked with a grin.
“Yes, Miss Lydia,” Andrew replied in complete innocence.
Long, meaningful glances travelled around the table, and even a little laughter followed. At last, Thomas explained:
“We are astonished that you have persuaded Miss Bennet even to approach a horse.”
“Yet it was not so difficult,” Andrew replied, still bewildered.
His grandmother already understood. Elizabeth intercepted the glance exchanged between the duchess and her uncle. She wished to explain that all her sisters had received the same invitation, but it was already too late. The stir around the table made it plain that everyone had reached their own conclusions regarding her behaviour in the company of a gentleman she had known only a short time.
“Elizabeth is afraid of horses,” Lydia explained.
“I was,” Elizabeth corrected her, wishing her family would regard the matter simply as a morning’s amusement and not some extraordinary event. “If we are to come to London frequently, I shall be at a disadvantage if I do not ride. It is as simple as that.”
Yet it was plainly not so simple, and even Andrew Kendall understood as much from the reaction around the table. When he glanced towards Elizabeth, his expression altered. From the first moment, he had noticed how different she was from the other young ladies. Time had only strengthened that impression. At breakfasts, dinners, and during the quiet hours before dinner, they spoke often, and each conversation deepened his admiration. Beautiful and intelligent, she seemed almost beyond reach. He knew that he had not enjoyed the same education or opportunities as she had. Certain that Mr Bennet and his grandmother had observed the difference as well, he suddenly felt compelled to explain himself.
“My father had a numerous family. They treated me kindly enough, but after my mother’s death, they intended me to become a trader. Only within the last few years, afterintercepting some of my grandmother’s letters, did I discover the truth about my family in England.”
“It matters very little how much education you have received, my dear,” said the duchess affectionately. “A gentleman requires other qualities if he is to be a good husband or a good friend. Most important of all, he must be trustworthy.”
Elizabeth agreed. A cultivated mind was admirable, but it was not the only quality she valued. Before Uncle Thomas’s arrival, she had lived with the fear that necessity might force her into a marriage without love. Even then, however, she would have chosen an honourable gentleman, one capable of appreciating her virtues and tolerating her faults. Now, with dowries and an inheritance secured, everything had changed. Love ought to be the principal ingredient of marriage. There was no urgency. Even an unmarried life seemed perfectly acceptable, provided she possessed enough to live comfortably.
She felt a real attraction towards Darcy and could imagine him as a husband, but only after they had overcome the misunderstandings born of Kent. Before that, she had thought of him only with anger and frustration; at Netherfield and later at Rosings, he had shown her little beyond his faults.
Much had changed since they met again that summer. He was dependable and sincere, yet that did not necessarily mean his pride and arrogance had disappeared. She did not want a husband who looked with disdain upon the ordinary people who would always remain part of her life. Marriage would never require her to abandon old friends, and Gracechurch Street would always possess greater charm for her than any fashionable address in London.
“We lost you, Miss Bennet,” Andrew Kendall said.
“I am sorry. It is not a polite way to behave.”
She looked towards the duchess.
