When the gentlemen left Longbourn, Darcy accompanied the earl and Colonel Fitzwilliam in the direction of Netherfield; yet just before they reached the manor, he offered a hasty farewell to the others and turned his horse across the fallow fields towards Millwood Cottage.
He had little desire to see Bingley at present and after learning of the calls Miss Bingley had paid, he felt even less inclination to encounter her, should she still remain in residence. That she would go so far as to suggest Elizabeth had behaved improperly?—
No, he would wait and learn what Lord Granfield discovered, and from that knowledge determine his own course. Anything else would be premature, and Darcy had already paid dearly for acting before his judgement had fully matured.
The brisk pace of his ride did little to still his thoughts. If anything, the steady exertion merely gave them room to rangemore freely, and they soon returned—inevitably—to Elizabeth Bennet.
He wondered, not for the first time, whether she regarded him with anything beyond civility, and whether the warmth she had lately shown him signified a true softening of feeling or merely the kindness of her disposition. She had accepted his apology, and she had done so without reserve; yet whether she might one day accept him as her husband was a far more delicate question. He found himself considering—cautiously, almost unwillingly—whether he dared to hope she might, in time, look upon him with favour.
That hope, however, was tempered by other, graver considerations. Elizabeth’s altered circumstances could not long remain entirely unknown in the neighbourhood, and if Wickham were to learn of her inheritance, Darcy could not doubt the danger it would present.
It did help that few people seemed to remember, but still, he knew Wickham too well. He knew Elizabeth would not fall for his lies, but the thought of her exposed to such designs stirred in Darcy a sharp, unwelcome sense of urgency. He could not allow her to be harmed, and despite her grandfather’s edict that she remain well protected, he wondered if she would not chafe under the restrictions.
Nor was Elizabeth the only one whose safety occupied his mind. His concern for Georgiana was ever-present, and although Wickham no longer had a hold over her as he once had, Darcy had learnt the folly of believing his sister beyond reach of injury.
Should Wickham impugn her reputation it would be difficult, if not impossible, to be restored, and Darcy resolved—yet again—that no opportunity should be given for Wickham to approachher or even learn of her being in the village if he could help it. Of course, with her and Elizabeth visiting several households, her presence would be difficult to be contained, but he would do all in his power to protect her.
These reflections led him, inevitably, to another difficulty: Lord Granfield. The earl’s objections to him had been plainly stated, and Darcy could not dismiss them lightly. That the man believed him ill-suited to Elizabeth rankled more than he cared to admit, particularly as the judgment had been delivered with such calm certainty.
Yes, both he and his father before him had declined the suggestion of a title, but even marriage to Elizabeth would not alter that fact. Instead, it would place upon him a different responsibility altogether. Their first born son would stand to inherit Granfield Park, not Pemberley, and Darcy found the notion oddly disconcerting. The idea that his eldest son might bear another estate’s obligations—and another name’s expectations—sat uneasily with him.
To Elizabeth, he suspected, it would matter very little. Wherever she resided, she would make a home of it; and wherever she went, her happiness would depend far less upon titles or estates than upon the character of the life she was asked to share.
How he might prove himself worthy—both to Elizabeth and to her grandfather—was a question he had not yet resolved.
So absorbed was he in these reflections that he was faintly surprised to find himself arriving at Millwood Cottage only a few minutes before the other gentlemen. Their call at Netherfield must have been brief, he thought, as he watched them approach from where he stood at the front of the house.
“Bingley is not at Netherfield,” the colonel said almost as soon as he dismounted and the reins were placed in a servant’s hands.
“Mr and Mrs Hurst were there, and they offered a brief apology for their brother’s absence. Miss Bingley was not mentioned at all; I nevertheless gathered readily enough that his absence has everything to do with her.”
He sighed heavily, removing his hat as they all moved into the house.
“The Hursts had not met Lord Granfield when he previously visited Netherfield. They knew only of the mysterious Mr Grant—Miss Elizabeth’s grandfather—whose presence had so offended Miss Bingley. Nevertheless, Hurst recognised him before any introduction was made.” Richard glanced at Granfield, who merely shrugged.
“When he realised that Lord Granfield was Miss Elizabeth’s grandfather, he turned quite ashen and at once explained matters to Mrs Hurst. She was exceedingly apologetic. Apparently they had already been preparing to send Miss Bingley away when she took it upon herself to quit the neighbourhood and spread her gossip,” Richard concluded.
“So Bingley is at least attempting to address what she has done, after a fashion,” Darcy acknowledged. “I am glad of that, but he ought to have taken steps to counter the gossip as well. Mrs Hurst could have paid calls upon those Miss Bingley visited, at the very least.”
“She said as much and then claimed she felt she could not,” the earl interjected, his mouth tightening. “Neither she nor her sister were particularly well liked by the residents of Hertfordshire, and Mrs Hurst seemed to realise that.”
They entered the foyer, and their conversation faltered as servants stepped forward to assist them. Lord Granfield handed over his gloves with unnecessary force and waited until the doors had closed behind the servants before he spoke again.
Without looking at either man, he turned sharply towards his study.
“Come,” the earl said curtly. “I have no patience to discuss this in a hall full of listening ears.”
Once inside the study, Granfield went at once to the sideboard and poured himself a glass, delaying any offer to the others until a moment later. “Our visit was unsatisfactory in the extreme.”
A short, decisive swallow preceded his next words. “Hurst spoke my title aloud—without thought—in front of servants who have neither history nor loyalty to restrain their tongues. Mrs Nicholls may attempt to quiet matters, but she cannot un-say what has been said. Servants hear everything, repeat everything, and embellish most of it.”
His expression darkened further. “Once my title becomes known, it will invite speculation—particularly when it has remained a secret for so long. I had hoped to keep Elizabeth clear of that a little longer, at least until I could properly introduce her in Town. Instead, people will begin to weigh her connexion to me and to calculate her potential dowry. A secret of this magnitude will travel quickly,” he added coldly, “and it will not travel unembellished.” His lip curled faintly. “Mrs Bennet alone?—”
The thought went unfinished, yet Darcy required no explanation. From what little he knew of the lady, Mrs Bennet was the sort who would delight in the connexion and wouldattempt to use it to enhance her own consequence, nor was she a lady inclined to resist the opportunity to solicit favours from those better off than herself.
Lord Granfield set the glass down with a controlled clink. “I dislike being made an object of curiosity,” came the measured conclusion, “but I despise it far more when Elizabeth is made one. If her inheritance—or her family—becomes the subject of idle calculation, she will be at risk with every militia officer in the neighbourhood.”
Darcy had no difficulty discerning that the earl’s disgust was directed inwardly as much as outwardly—and that beneath it all lay a fierce resolve to prevent further injury, whatever measures that might require. He was a man used to action, unused to waiting for others to act.
