She looked down at her plate now, allowing Mr. Darcy to do the same. He gave his attention to the roasted meat and vegetables now on his plate, and noted that his wine goblet was full. The wine was excellent, but he decided to be careful not to consume too much. His behaviour tonight must be impeccable.
As the third course was served, he was able to turn his attention back to Miss Bennet. “Might I be permitted to call on you at Longbourn, Miss Bennet?” Was it too soon? It was, of course, far too soon, he admonished himself. This was their first meeting since the disaster at Kent. Should he have waited before speaking his intentions so plainly? Definitely. But it was too late. The die had been cast. He opened his mouth to apologise, but she forestalled him.
“I hope you will, Mr. Darcy,” she said, raising her magnificent eyes to his.
Joy flooded Mr. Darcy’s entire being.
There was another fracas down at the other end of the table. Mrs. Bennet was scolding one of her daughters for something or other, Mr. Darcy did not know what, nor did he care.
Chapter Twenty-One
The next morning, Mr. Darcy was up bright and early, as was his custom. Charles and Mrs. Bingley were already breaking their fast when he entered the breakfast room.
“You slept well, I trust, Mr. Darcy?” his kind hostess enquired.
“Extremely well, I thank you, Mrs. Bingley,” he responded. “The bed is most comfortable. I see you have learnt to keep country hours, Bingley,” he observed. “I do not recall ever before seeing you this early in the day.”
“Jane told me that if I am to become a country gentlemen, I must keep country hours,” Bingley replied. “I will not say it was an easy transition.”
“And I take it the Hursts have not followed in your footsteps?”
“No; they will not appear downstairs for another two hours.”
“Is not Hurst heir to an estate somewhere?”
“Yes, in Shropshire; but his father is hale and hearty, so Hurst is not concerned about having to change his Town ways any time soon.”
Mr. Darcy was too well-mannered to pass on his thoughts about Bingley’s indolent brother-in-law, so he instead bent his attention to his omelette, filled with cheese and sprinkled with chives, and his coffee.
“Will we visit tenants today?” Bingley was all but vibrating with enthusiasm.
“Indeed, and we should leave immediately after breakfast so that I can be back at Netherfield by early afternoon.”
“And why, if I may enquire?” Bingley suddenly looked stern.
“Your guess is correct; I plan to call on Miss Bennet.”
Mrs. Bingley looked up from her toast. “So youareinterested in my sister.”
“I think it no secret, Mrs. Bingley. I have been interested in her since we met in Kent, and it was that very interest that upset my Aunt Catherine to the point of demanding that Miss Bennet leave the county.”
“I am glad you will act on that interest, Mr. Darcy. But please be careful with my sister’s heart; for all her clever chat and witty ways, her heart is tender and easily bruised.”
***
An hour later, booted and hatted, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were on horseback, visiting the tenant farms. There were, as Mr. Darcy had anticipated, issues that the absent landlord had not taken care of. It made sense, of course, as it was only the main house that would be of interest to prospective tenants, but anyone thinking of buying the place had best look deeper.
“Remember this, as well as the other problems we have seen, Bingley,” Mr. Darcy said. “The Caldwell cottage needs a new roof, and there should be another room added on, as Mrs. Caldwell is with child again and the family is already too crowded.”
“I fear I will forget all that we have spoken about, Darcy.” Bingley’s tone was rueful.
Mr. Darcy glanced at his pocket watch. “Then let us go back to Netherfield’s study and write down all that we have learnt. I will also tell you how much each repair is likely to cost, and we can consider how those repairs should affect the purchase price.”
***
Finally free of his responsibilities to his host, Mr. Darcy went upstairs to prepare for his visit with Miss Bennet. Evans had a bath ready and his clothing already laid out, so it was not long before he was at the Bennet’s estate, Longbourn. The manor house was not as large as Netherfield Park, nor as well-kept, but it was far older. He recalled Miss Bennet saying that there had been Bennets at Longbourn for two hundred years, and he thought that at least a portion of the house must be that old.
A stable boy appeared to take his reins, and he made his way up the steps. The front door opened and an older woman greeted him. “Mr. Darcy, is it?” she asked.
