“Jane has recently discovered a capacity for playfulness.”
“Has she not engaged in such light-hearted banter with your family before?”
“As the eldest, Jane has always been our family’s mediator, serene and composed, frequently mending situations that Lydia and I have disrupted with our forthrightness. However, since arriving in town and renewing her acquaintance with Mr. Morgan, her mild temperament has begun to transform. Our gentle dove now displays the makings of a hawk.”
“I consider that a positive development.” Mr. Darcy pressed her gloved hand gently against his arm, his fingers warm throughthe thin fabric. “In our society, the meek are frequently overwhelmed. Sometimes one requires both sharpness of wit and strength of character to navigate these treacherous waters.”
Elizabeth canted her head to one side and regarded the customarily solemn gentleman with curiosity, her intelligent eyes searching his handsome face.
“You speak as one with experience in this matter,” she observed, noting the shadow that briefly darkened his countenance.
“Indeed,” he replied, his voice lowering to a confidential timbre. “Last summer, my sister nearly succumbed to the silver-tongued persuasions of a former family friend, who convinced her to elope. Only by fortunate circumstance did I discover their plan mere days before their intended departure for the border of Scotland.”
“How dreadful! How is your sister? Has she fully recovered?”
He drew in a deliberate breath before replying, his voice steadier than his hesitation suggested. “She is much better now. My aunt, Lady Matlock has taken her under her wing, and we have engaged a most compassionate companion for her.” He paused, his gaze momentarily distant. “It was also of considerable comfort that she heard, straight from the cad’s own lips, that his motive for courting her affections lay solely in her fortune, which surpassed thirty thousand pounds.”
“How perfectly awful,” Elizabeth murmured. “No one wishes to be admired merely for their wealth.” She shook her head, recalling how her father insisted on keeping their fortune out of public gossip. Then, with a curious lift of her brow, she met Darcy’s gaze. “I imagine you have been plagued with the samemalaise?”
“I must confess I have. It contributed greatly to mydisagreeable demeanour that first evening in Meryton. Georgiana’s distress was still fresh in my mind when we entered the assembly hall, only to be greeted by whispers and calculations regarding Bingley’s wealth and my own, as though we were merely prizes to be claimed by whichever local family proved most strategic in their matchmaking.”
Elizabeth’s lips curved in wry amusement. “Mr. Bingley’s fortune was a popular topic of conversation long before his arrival. As to your fortune, we learned all about it from Miss Bingley herself, who deemed it her duty to enlighten us poor country mice of your vast estate and illustrious lineage.”
Darcy inclined his head. “I had my suspicions. In any case, I behaved most poorly and came to regret my harsh words as the weeks wore on, and I came to know more of your character… and when I began, most unexpectedly, to admire your fine eyes.”
“Fine eyes?” Elizabeth half-laughed, her voice light with amusement. “Forgive me, I must confess that while wandering the maze at Netherfield, I overheard Miss Bingley teasing you about those very fine eyes, and the portraits of aunts and uncles lining Pemberley’s gallery. I never imagined I was the subject of her mockery.”
“Miss Bingley is a spiteful cat. I suffered her company because of her brother, and indirectly Hurst.”
“She saw herself as the future mistress of your estate.”
“Am I the only one who failed to see this?”
“You did not know?” Elizabeth’s voice was gentle.
He shook his head. “My family pointed it out to me upon my return from Netherfield, and later it was confirmed in a conversation with Hurst.”
“Was this the same conversation in which you both agreed to apologise for your conduct in Hertfordshire?”
Darcy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You know of that?”
“Mr. Hurst approached Jane and me at the Theatre Royal. He came alone, offered his apologies, and returned to his wife with little to no fanfare.”
“Hurst is a good man. He and his wife have shown admirable judgment in separating themselves from Bingley and his sister.”
“Most prudent, given what has come to light.” Elizabeth pressed her arm against his, a gentle reassurance of her growing regard. “I imagine the dissolution of such a longstanding friendship weighs heavily upon you.”
“It does indeed.” His voice carried a note of melancholy. “For many years, I believed Bingley to be genuine in character and intention, like clear glass through which one sees truth.”
“Until something altered your perception,” she prompted, watching birds dart between the budding branches overhead.
“Precisely.” Their pace slowed to a contemplative stroll as he gathered his thoughts. “The transformation began shortly after the mourning for their parents concluded. Bingley sought my counsel regarding the purchase of horses. I recommended sturdy carriage horses suitable for town living, practical creatures with strong haunches and reliable temperaments. I explicitly cautioned against the extravagance of thoroughbreds.”
“He disregarded your counsel?”
“Entirely. He acquired not one but eight fine horses with pedigrees longer than their tails, necessitating a move to an excessively large Mayfair residence with adequate stabling. Miss Bingley, naturally, seized the opportunity to embark upon a most... distinctive redecoration.”
Elizabeth could not suppress a shudder at the mental image of Miss Bingley decorating anything.
