***
At Netherfield, Mr. Darcy could not sleep. A vision of a mahogany-tressed, green-gowned fairy danced in his head, and he could not get her from his mind. I cannot marry her, of course, he thought, but surely there is nothing wrong with admiring her. I am in no danger of making a mésalliance, he thought, again and again. Once Bingley gets here, and I have the pleasure of seeing him meet Miss Bennet, I will leave for Pemberley; when the Season begins, I will journey to London and begin my search for a wife in earnest.
I am in no danger, I am in no danger, I am in no danger…
Chapter Thirteen
Elizabeth ran out the back kitchen door to find her sister in the garden, deadheading the roses. “Jane! Jane!”
“What is it, Lizzy?” Jane straightened up and adjusted her bonnet, which had fallen to the left.
“You will never believe it.”
“I imagine that I will come to believe it, whatever it may be,” Jane replied, calmly.
“Look. Look at this letter I just got from Aunt Madeleine.”
Jane calmly set down her secateurs, while Elizabeth all but danced in her impatience. Finally, Jane took the letter and read.
Dear Lizzy,
First, I must tell you that the children miss you almost as much as I do! I wish that you would consider living with us permanently, but I know full well that your Papa would never permit it.
Second, I am rather puzzled by something. Henry tells me that you have a new neighbour by the name of Fitzwilliam Darcy. I must confess that I know a Fitzwilliam Darcy, and it is an unusual enough name that I cannot believe there are two of them!
The Fitzwilliam Darcy I know – and I should say knowof, as I have never spoken to him and never expect to – is the master of a very large estate in Derbyshire called Pemberley. You will recall, of course, that I grew up in Derbyshire, and Pemberley is well-known to all of us. Fitzwilliam Darcy is the nephew of the Earl of Matlock, and is extremely wealthy and much sought-after.
I cannot begin to understand what such a man might be doing in Meryton, and dressed more like a businessman than a man of wealth and consequence!
What think you of this, Lizzy? It seems a very great mystery!
All my love,
Aunt Madeleine
“I can hardly believe it!” Jane cried, her gardening now forgotten.
“Ha! I told you that you would never believe it!” her sister crowed.
The two sisters looked at one another. “He’s wealthy,” Jane said, at last.
“But is he married?” Elizabeth asked.
“Papa will know,” they said together, and ran into the house.
***
“How could you not tell us?” Elizabeth demanded, waving Mrs. Gardiner’s letter in her father’s face.
“Tell you what?”
“About Mr. Darcy!”
“Oh.” Seeing the letter in Elizabeth’s hand, Mr. Bennet guessed at once what must have happened; and a quick perusal of the letter that Elizabeth thrust under his nose confirmed it. “Yes, he is that Fitzwilliam Darcy, though I did not suspect him to be quite so well-known.”
“Mama cannot possibly know, or she would not designate him for Mary,” Jane said.
“She does not know, nor can she.”
