But a heretofore unknown young lady from the country? His mother and Aunt Catherine would be angryandeyebrows would be raised in every townhome in London!
Did he care?
No. No, he realised, with an enormous smile, he did not. Not in the slightest.
***
At Rosings Park, Lady Anne climbed into her carriage, preparing to head north to Pemberley. She had not been in so foul a mood in some time, and her poor maid, Hannah, was made to hear all her ladyship’s recriminations about Lady Catherine, who had clearly not raised Anne de Bourgh properly; about Anne de Bourgh herself, for being so weak and uninteresting; about Fitzwilliam, for being so very disobedient, rebellious, disrespectful and unfilial; but most of all about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who had the audacity to be pretty, vivacious, well-read and very much in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Chapter Seventeen
When Mr. Darcy’s carriage pulled up in front of Netherfield, he stepped out and paused to ran a practiced eye over the house’s exterior face. It looked sturdy enough, built of red brick, with arches over the front door and windows. The front gardens were well-tended and welcoming.
Evidently his carriage had been watched for, as Bingley himself was now coming out to meet him.
“Darcy! Here you are at last!”
The two men pounded each other on the back, expressing their happiness at seeing one another in the way of good friends. “Bingley! It is good to see you.”
“Come meet my wife,” Bingley said, joy radiating from his countenance.
Mr. Darcy was led into a drawing room, where a truly beautiful young lady stood to greet him, smiling softly.
“My dear, this is Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, of whom you have doubtless already grown weary of hearing! Darcy, this is Mrs. Bingley.”
The lady curtsied gracefully as he bowed to her. Bingley had certainly not exaggerated the lady’s beauty in his letter, as she would have turned heads in any ballroom in London. But with her blond curls and blue eyes, she looked nothing whatever like Miss Bennet; perhaps they had different mothers?
He was offered tea and sandwiches, which he gratefully accepted.
“Your valet has already unpacked your trunks, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Bingley assured him.
“And a room is available for him?” Evans had been with him a long time; he wanted to be certain he was comfortable.
“Of course. Your man has a room to himself; there is a fireplace in the room should he need it, though the weather has been fine.”
“I thank you, Mrs. Bingley. Not everyone considers the comfort of servants.”
“My sisters and I have been raised to consider the comfort of everyone,” she returned.
“I believe you are aware that I have met one of your sisters,” he said.
“Yes, indeed, my younger sister, Elizabeth. She has spoken of meeting you.”
“Favorably, I hope?” He could not resist asking the question.
She looked at him, levelly. “Yes, Mr. Darcy; favorably. Though she is still upset about the events that led to her being asked to cut her visit short.”
Mr. Darcy dropped his eyes. “I cannot apologise enough for my aunt’s bad manners.”
“We all have relatives who embarrass us, Mr. Darcy. I very much hope you will remember that when you are introduced to certain members of my own family.”
Mr. Bingley now intervened. “Darcy, you will have plenty of time to meet everyone. But I very much want to discuss Netherfield! I signed a six-month lease and it will expire next month. Should I renew it? Should I offer to purchase it? I desperately need your advice.”
Right; Mr. Darcy would have to remember that his own goals and that of his host were not the same.
Mrs. Bingley said, in her serene voice, “My dear, allow poor Mr. Darcy to get settled in before he is peppered with questions.”
Again, it was hard to believe the two ladies were sisters! He had never heard Miss Bennet speak in such calm, measured tones. She was so vivacious, so animated! But he must remember that he had not known either lady long.
