So now, most unexpectedly, he was as free as a bird! He had completed his tour of the Netherfield house, attics and all, andhe had compiled a good many notes to leave for Bingley. Now he had nothing more to do than to ride, walk, read, and play chess with Bennet. Mr. Darcy had been invited to several more dinners at Longbourn, and had become almost comfortable with the family.
He liked Bennet very much; he was a scholarly gentleman, and he would have done very well as a tutor at Cambridge. It was a shame that fate had forced him away from his preferred occupation, but his situation was far from unique, for scarlet fever had claimed many lives. Mr. Darcy had learned from Sir William that Longbourn was entailed to a distant cousin, yet an additional reason for Bennet to be an indifferent owner of the estate.
Mr. Darcy estimated the income from Longbourn to be no more than two thousand pounds per annum. It was improbable that Bennet had managed to save any of that, so the girls very likely had inadequate dowries.
Mr. Darcy reflected on the Bennet girls. Miss Mary was unlikely to marry, sad to say. She had scarcely said ten complete sentences to him, though her mother continued to sit her beside Mr. Darcy at every meal. She was polite enough, but her appearance was – well, uninspiring, to put it kindly. She seemed to have no languages, the only needlework he had ever seen her take up was plain stuff, and her skill at the pianoforte was mediocre at best. It was sad, but her future looked bleak indeed. He thought she should make more of an effort with her appearance, but he was certainly in no position to advise her, and he did not want to show any sort of interest in the matter.
Miss Catherine – they called her Kitty, he had learned – was, as it turned out, all of seventeen, though she seemed quite a bit younger. At seventeen years of age, she could marry anytime, assuming she could find anyone silly enough to take her. Sheseemed to be unable to speak rationally on any subject, and could only talk of gowns, flirtations, and neighbourhood gossip. He would never allow his sister to make the acquaintance of such a young lady. Why did her father not educate her? The mother clearly knew nothing whatever beyond what was required of her to manage her household, so it was really up to Mr. Bennet to take her in hand.
Miss Lydia! Now,therewas a girl who needed watching. She was too young for marriage, certainly, but she was just the sort of girl who might get herself into trouble. Her mother was incapable of controlling her behaviour, and her father – sad to say – had evidently washed his hands of her. She was pretty enough, so perhaps she could marry, if she managed to stay out of trouble long enough to do so.
Miss Bennet, with her fine face and pleasing figure, was likely the person upon whom the future of the family rested. It was rather unfair to her, Mr. Darcy thought, but it was not at all an unusual situation. Even among the finest families, if the coffers were bare, then the beauty of the family – if there was one – had to marry well in order to secure the family’s future.
Miss Bennet was exactly Charles Bingley’s type; it would be a good match for both of them. He had money; she, as the daughter of an estate owner, had the higher rank. She was beautiful; Bingley was well-favoured. It was a shame that the girl had no money, but Bingley had a good income from his father’s factories as well as the interest from his own fortune. Mr. Darcy looked forward to seeing them together.
At this thought, Mr. Darcy’s brow creased. This was the first time he had realised that he wanted to stay at Netherfield until Bingley arrived, rather than absent himself before November.
And why should he not? He communicated with Pemberley’s steward regularly; the harvest had been brought in, necessary repairs to tenant cottages were underway, and there was little to do until spring. The house itself was ably run by Mrs. Reynolds, and Georgiana was safe with Mrs. Annesley.
He assured himself that a weary landowner should take a nice, long break when he was able to do so. It was the rational thing to do. He would stay until Bingley arrived, and he would make certain that the Bingleys were well-settled before making his way back to Derbyshire.
So resolved, he set off for his daily visit to Bennet.
***
“Lizzy, I am so glad you are home!” Jane welcomed her younger sister with hugs and kisses. “I missed you so!”
“And I missed you as well, Jane!” Elizabeth said, laughing. “But, heavens, I did have such a good time in London!”
“I am certain that I would have a good time as well, were I ever to be invited,” Lydia complained.
“You will not be invited until your behaviour improves,” Elizabeth said. “Aunt Gardiner told me so herself, so you may as well give up any hope of such a visit.”
“And what is wrong with my behaviour, I should like to know?” Lydia demanded.
“So much that I cannot begin to tell you, Lydia,” Mary interjected, solemnly.
“Pooh!” Lydia said, inelegantly.
“Tell me all the news of Meryton!” Elizabeth demanded, sinking down onto the couch in the parlour. Her entire family surrounded her, glad to welcome her back. It must be admittedthat the younger girls were very much hoping for gifts from London, and the small pile of wrapped packages at Elizabeth’s feet were being given a great deal of attention.
“We have had a lot of company – or, I should say, Papa has, for they spend a good amount of time together,” Jane began, sitting beside Elizabeth.
“Who?” Elizabeth asked.
“Mr. Darcy; I wrote you about him,” Jane replied.
“Oh! Do we know anything more about him?”
“He is single, and so Mama keeps pushing me at him,” Mary complained.
“He would do very well for you, Mary!” Mrs. Bennet insisted.
“And you have no interest in him, Mary?” Elizabeth asked.
“He is too good-looking,” Mary answered.
“Toogood-looking? I have never heard that it was possible for a man to be too good-looking,” Elizabeth said, brow wrinkling.
