Her uncertainty was heightened by the fact that, even though Netherfield was hers by right, it was presently let. She had not resided there in many years—not since shortly after her parents’ deaths. Indeed, the nights she had spent beneath its roof when Jane had been ill were the longest she had remained there in more than a decade. It seemed unlikely that it would ever truly become her home.
The greater part of her childhood had been passed at Longbourn; but that house had not felt wholly hers of late, particularly since she had removed to Millwood Cottage under her grandfather’s protection.
By necessity, her married life would be divided between London and the principal estates of Granfield Park and Pemberley. They might visit Netherfield from time to time, but most of their life would be spent elsewhere.
If that were so, what purpose was Netherfield to serve?
Another notion formed—quiet at first, then increasingly insistent. They would visit only rarely. Might there not be a better future for the estate?
The thought concerned its disposition; she must first consult William before allowing herself to pursue it seriously. Even so, once entertained, it would not easily be dismissed.
With an effort, she set the matter aside and returned to the present concern.
“Yes, Aunt Rosalind, let us discuss the date of my nuptials. I pray you have some suggestions for me and might be able to solve at least one of my difficulties.”
Darcy and Richardrode towards Millwood Cottage later that afternoon, the winter light already beginning its slow decline. The earl had sent word of his return and expressed a wish to see them both, and they had not delayed in complying. Darcy’s haste, however, was not solely in obedience to the summons; he was eager to see Elizabeth.
“You are ever punctual, Darcy, but you seem particularly eager to reach Millwood this afternoon,” Richard observed, urging his horse to keep pace.
“The earl requested our presence,” Darcy replied evenly.
“Indeed,” Richard returned, with studied innocence. “I cannot conceive of any other inducement that would prompt such haste.”
Darcy declined to dignify the remark with a reply.
Georgiana and Mrs Annesley had remained with Elizabeth during Lord Granfield’s absence, but still Darcy had judged it prudent not to call too frequently at Millwood Cottage—or to extend his visits to the length he might have preferred—while her guardian was away. He would afford no one even the faintest pretext for censure. The restraint, however proper, had rendered the past days decidedly less agreeable.
It was not that they had been wholly deprived of one another’s company. Darcy and Richard, as guests of the Hursts, were seldom without some opportunity of seeing the ladies. The Hursts’ residence at Netherfield occasioned several engagements, including one or two dinners at which the ladies of Millwood Cottage were present. Jane and Mary Bennet frequently joined the party from Longbourn, and Elizabeth and Georgiana were often prevailed upon to spend part of the afternoon at Netherfield in return.
These meetings, conducted amidst the animation of a full household and the observant civility of their hosts, differed materially from the ease he had once enjoyed at Millwood. Before their engagement, they had conversed for hours with little interruption, their conduct remarked upon by only a select few. Georgiana had openly advocated for the match, while Richard—after his arrival—had been largely indifferent. The earl had not always viewed the attachment with enthusiasm, yet he had seldom interfered.
Such liberty was no longer theirs—not since their engagement and the gentlemen’s removal to Netherfield. Mrs Annesley, in particular, observed the couple with attentive vigilance whenever they were in company, her watchfulness heightened in the earl’s absence. Darcy could hardly fault her prudence, however much he might occasionally wish that her sense of duty were exercised with marginally less zeal where his own conduct was concerned.
“I cannot determine,” Richard remarked one afternoon, after a particularly supervised visit, “whether Mrs Annesley’s chief concern is your sister or you, in recent days.”
“She is employed for Georgiana’s benefit,” Darcy replied.
“Undoubtedly,” Richard agreed. “It is merely unfortunate that her duties appear to extend so conscientiously to the gentleman who provides her salary.”
Darcy cast him a look of restrained impatience. “She performs her role of chaperone with diligence.”
“Exemplary diligence,” Richard corrected. “You must take care, Darcy. Few men can claim to finance their own surveillance.”
Darcy suppressed a sigh. “If the arrangement preserves my sister’s reputation, I shall endure the inconvenience.”
He paused, then added more quietly, “Though I confess I should not object to a moment in which her vigilance were directed elsewhere.”
Richard’s brow lifted. “Indeed?”
Darcy adjusted his gloves with unnecessary precision. “A gentleman may reasonably wish to speak to his intended without feeling himself under inspection.”
“Merely speak?” Richard questioned blandly.
Darcy offered no reply.
He had, at least, been occupied during the time he could not be with his intended. Several estate matters required his attention, and a number of letters had demanded a timely response. Among them was one from his aunt, Lady Catherine.
That one was, in its way, a most extraordinary letter.
