“Is she of age?” Kitty asked.
“She is.”
“Why does he not just pack her off with her likely substantial dowry, and enjoy some peace in his home?” she went on.
“She has twenty thousand pounds,” Mr. Darcy said. “She could afford to maintain her own household, of course, but living alone does not send the best message to the society she hopes to join.”
“Twenty thousand pounds!” Lydia marveled. “And here we are with four thousand pounds between the five of us!”
Her speech confirmed Mr. Darcy’s suspicion that Mr. Bennet had not done a good deal to secure his daughters’ futures.
After a brief silence, Mrs. Bennet asked, “Will you take tea with us, Mr. Darcy?”
“I shall be happy to, Mrs. Bennet.” He would like to sit across from Miss Elizabeth for a while longer. He enjoyed his tea andtarts, glancing only occasionally inherdirection before escaping into Bennet’s study.
The moment he left the room, Mrs. Bennet said, “Mr. Darcy is clearly quite taken with Lizzy!”
Elizabeth replied at once. “He is destined for a highly placed young lady in theton, Mama.”
“Is he?” her mother mused. “Well, we shall see.”
Chapter Eighteen
Mr. Bingley and his party arrived as promised. Mr. Darcy, Mr. Graham and Mrs. Nichols went out to welcome them. Graham noticed, to his private mortification, that Mr. Bingley’s carriage was not nearly as elegant as Mr. Darcy’s; he hoped – again – that Mr. Darcy would not tell Mr. Bingley of his failure to treat Mr. Darcy as that gentleman had deserved.
Mrs. Nichols, with the innate perception that women have and men lack, saw at once that Miss Bingley was the person to be cosseted and placated, and so curtsied deeply to her after making proper obeisance to Mr. Bingley. Mrs. Nichols informed Miss Bingley that the best bedrooms had been aired, clean linens supplied, and fires already lit, in preparation for the family’s occupancy.
“Foodstuffs?” the haughty young miss enquired, nose in the air.
“The pantries are full, Miss Bingley,” Mrs. Nichols replied at once. “Cook awaits your orders as to the family’s preferred meals.”
“Refreshments?”
“Awaiting you in the drawing room, Miss Bingley.”
Miss Bingley nodded, and dismissed Mrs. Nichols with a regal wave of her hand. She turned to her brother. “Charles!”
Mr. Bingley was occupied with Mr. Darcy, who was assuring him that all was in order at Netherfield, but he looked up at once upon hearing his sister’s voice. “Yes, Caroline?”
“It is too cold to stand out here; can we not go inside?”
“Of course. Come, Darcy.” And with that, the party entered the house. The trunks were brought in and carried upstairs by the footmen.
“Refreshments are available in the drawing room,” Miss Bingley said, for all the world as if she had orchestrated those refreshments. “I do hope you will join us, Mr. Darcy.”
“Of course, Miss Bingley. I have been remiss in not enquiring as to your journey; it was not unpleasant, I hope?”
“Oh, it was dreadful! The roads – truly, someone should do something about the condition of the roads out here in the wild!”
“Indeed? The road from London to Meryton was, I thought, in good condition. The roads in Derbyshire are far worse, as we get quite a bit more rain and snow in the northern part of the country.”
Miss Bingley had nothing to say to that, so she merely gave Mr. Darcy his cup. “Milk, no sugar, is that not right, Mr. Darcy?”
“Quite right, I thank you, Miss Bingley.”
Mr. Bingley was impatient with these societal niceties, for he cleared his throat and said. “Well, Darcy, tell me everything! How is the society? Have you met my neighbours?”
“I have spent a good deal of time with your closest neighbours, the Bennets.”
