She took a deep breath. “I know something – a very little something – about family pride. I cannot compare my family to yours, of course, but there have been Bennets at Longbourn for two hundred years. Now, because my mother did not bear a son, we shall be the last of our line, and a man named Collins will inherit.”
Mr. Darcy bowed his head. “That is hard indeed.”
“It is. But because of my family’s situation, I can tell you that for my father, bearing the pity of the neighbours was hard enough; but what was even harder for him to come to terms with was how he viewed himself.”
Mr. Darcy remained silent, hoping she would continue.
After a moment, she did, her voice filled with pain. “He can no longer see himself as the bearer of a proud name and a proud heritage. Instead, he is the man who failed to keep the estate for the Bennets. And that is far, far harder for him to stomach than the pity of his friends. Family pride has brought my father nothing but heartache. But it has taught me to believe that cultivating one’s own virtues must take precedence over pride in one’s family. The fact that the Darcy family name is tarnished feels terrible, I know; but perhaps you can now be free to focus on yourownbehaviour, yourowncharacter, yourownwishes and desires, rather than on your family name.”
Mr. Darcy could not speak.
“Mr. Darcy?”
He put a hand over his eyes so that she could not see his tears. He and his fair companion were quiet for a long while. Then he said, hoarsely, “Miss Elizabeth.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy?”
“May I call on you at Longbourn?”
Her expressive eyes opened wide. She was silent, staring at him.
“I hope I have not offended you,” he added, hastily.
“No, no, of course not.” She gathered her wits. “I would be very happy to have you call on me, Mr. Darcy.” Then she blushed deeply, curtsied, and left with her book.
Chapter Twelve
Back in Jane’s room withThe Midnight Bellin hand, Elizabeth’s thoughts were in a turmoil. Mr. Darcy wanted to call onher? She was baffled. From bits of conversation she had overheard, she knew Mr. Darcy to be a wealthy gentleman with an estate up north, and an uncle who was an earl. It was all but incomprehensible that he should be interested in a poor country girl.
Jane, seeing her sister’s preoccupation, asked, “Lizzy? Is everything all right?”
“Oh, Jane, I am sorry. Yes, everything is fine. Mr. Bingley wanted to know if you could come downstairs tonight and I said no, but that I would tell you he had enquired after you.”
“That was kind of him. But there must be something else; I see it in your face. You can tell me anything, you know that.”
“I can never keep anything from you! Jane, you recall I told you about Mr. Darcy.”
“The dark, good-looking wealthy man? Yes, indeed.” Jane smiled.
“Well, Mr. Darcy wants to call on me.”
“He –what?”
“Exactly! What does a man like that want withme?”
“Stop it, Lizzy.” Jane’s voice was still hoarse, but her tone was firm, almost angry. “Stop being so hard on yourself. You are bright, witty, lovely – he would be lucky to gain your favour.”
“You are so sweet, Jane; no wonder everyone loves you.”
“No, you shall not deflect me. Lizzy, you are everything wonderful. I am not the slightest bit surprised that Mr. Darcy is interested in you, and it speaks well of him that he recognises your wonderful qualities.”
Seeing that Jane would not be dissuaded, Elizabeth thanked her sister and set about arranging the bedclothes. “You had dinner, I hope, Jane?”
“I did, yes. Martha brought it up and gave me all the household gossip along with my tray. Miss Bingley has set her eyes firmly on Mr. Darcy, but no one thinks him the slightest bit interested in her.”
“Jane, we should not be discussing –“
“Wait, wait, you must hear the rest. Your Mr. Darcy has his valet sleep in front of his bedroom door to avoid any possibility of Miss Bingley claiming a compromise!”
