Your Uncle George is well, I am glad to report, and of course spends a good deal of his time with political matters. I host many political dinners, during which I smile a good deal and do my best to agree with whatever opinion is being voiced by my dinner companion, no matter how absurd.
Richard is on the continent, and I worry about him every day. Such is the fate of far too many mothers in the country, I expect, and likely most mothers in France as well! Why that little man has decided to take over the world and thus put us all through such pain, I shall neverunderstand. What is wrong with men, I should like to know!
As you and I have discussed, this coming season is the ideal time for you to seek a bride. I am in the process of compiling a list of the appropriate young ladies who are expected to be available this coming Season, along with their dowries and connexions. There will be ample opportunity for you to meet them and then choose one of them to be your wife.
With the deepest affection,
Aunt Elaine
Good. Aunt Elaine had matters well in hand for him. Doubtless, once he had selected an appropriate bride from amongst the available young ladies in London, the visage of Elizabeth Bennet would fade entirely from his mind and he would never think of her again.
Chapter Eleven
Mr. Darcy waited a few days before returning to Longbourn. He wanted to make certain that Mr. Descartes’ wise words about the unreliability of the five senses had fully taken root in his mind, and so he spent those two days carefully re-writing his notes regarding the management of Netherfield.
When he was certain he could trust himself to be the rational, intelligent, careful man he knew himself to be, he walked to Longbourn.
He was greeted at the door by Mr. Hill, who took his hat and coat and then escorted him to Mr. Bennet’s study. Mr. Darcy’s relief at not being shown into the drawing room, where he might encounter Miss Elizabeth, was short-lived, as that young lady was sitting in the study, right there in the chair he himself usually occupied, laughing gaily with her father. “And then the man beside me said – oh, good morning, Mr. Darcy!” She rose and curtsied.
Automatically, he bowed and returned her greeting. Good Lord, had he thought her pretty? Beautiful? These words were utterly inadequate. All thought of René Descartes flew from his mind at once. “You look very well this morning, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, unconsciously straightening to his full height and deepening his voice.
“I thank you, Mr. Darcy. Any praise regarding my appearance must go to my aunt, as it was she who selected this frock for me while I was in London.”
“I think you give yourself too little credit, Miss Elizabeth, as I am certain that it is you who adorn the frock, not the other way around.” Mr. Darcy listened to himself in astonishment. He was flirting with the girl! Good Lord, he had never flirted with anyone in his entire life! But he seemed unable to stop. “You enjoyed yourself in London, I take it?”
“Very much! But if I am honest, I am a country girl at heart and could never be truly happy living always in Town.”
“I am in complete agreement with you, Miss Elizabeth.”
“You do not live in Town, then, Mr. Darcy?”
“No, I live in Derbyshire, and come to Town only periodically. I do enjoy the theater, of course, and the museums, but it is not long until I find myself longing for the sight of forests and lakes.”
“That is it exactly, Mr. Darcy!” She beamed at him, and he felt his heart beating fast.
He heard Mr. Bennet clear his throat loudly and looked over at him. The man was frowning and shaking his head. Ah. He was supposed to ‘not toy’ with this favoured daughter! Incredibly enough, it was he who was in danger, not she, but he could hardly say that.
“I believe your father is eager for his chess match,” he told her. She nodded at once, and his heart sank when she curtsied to him and left the room. Bennet’s study seemed suddenly dark.
“What did I tell you, Darcy?” Bennet’s voice was practically a growl.
“I apologise from the bottom of my heart, Bennet. The truth is that I do not seem able to help myself!” Mr. Darcy sounded completely baffled, and Mr. Bennet was disposed to take pity on him.
“My Lizzy is a lovely girl, inside and out, and I cannot blame any man who finds himself attracted to her. But I cannot, Iwillnot, allow you to hurt her, Darcy.”
“In all honesty, I suspect I am the only one who will be hurt,” Mr. Darcy said. “I cannot marry her, of course, but I am drawn to her like a moth to a flame.” He realised that this was not the sort of conversation one should have with a young lady’s father.
“Perhaps you should return to Derbyshire,” Mr. Bennet said. “I have had enough bad news today, and I do not need any further complications.”
“Bad news? I am sorry to hear it.”
“Here, read this and tell me what you make of it.” Mr. Bennet reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a rather long letter.
Mr. Darcy sat down and began to read. After the first few paragraphs, he glanced down at the signature, trying to understand the context of the letter. It was signedWilliam Collins. “Who is this William Collins?” he asked, looking across the desk at Mr. Bennet.
“He is the heir presumptive of the estate and may turn my wife and daughters out into the street upon my death.” Mr. Bennet’s voice was level and calm.
“You have never met him?”
