“Yes, and she has all the symptoms!”
“Who would have thought that it would be our practical Mary who would make a love match?” Jane marveled. “I am so happy for her!”
“It is not done yet,” Elizabeth said. “After all, he might decide on you rather than her!”
“Oh, I hope not! That would be dreadful!”
***
Mr. Collins was confused. He had decided to make his cousin Mary an offer of marriage, and had been on the point of proposing when Miss Bennet, the eldest daughter, came home from London. His mouth had fallen open when he had been introduced to her. What a beauty she was! Those blond curls, those long-lashed blue eyes! Why, a man could drown in those limpid cerulean pools!
But beautiful as this Miss Bennet was – and she certainly was! – the idea of not spending his life with Mary was intolerable. He felt a pang of regret, as what man would notwant such a woman as the beauteous Miss Bennet on his arm, but knew he was making the right decision.
Tomorrow, he would propose to his Mary.
Chapter Thirty
Oh, Mr. Darcy!” Miss Bingley’s hand was at her throat. “Why, I do not think we were expecting you today, but you are very, very welcome!”
“Thank you, Miss Bingley,” Mr. Darcy replied. “I should have sent word, of course, but my departure was the result of a sudden decision. And, if I am honest, I felt that my friendship with your brother was of sufficient duration to forgive such an affront to courtesy.”
“Oh! Of course! Your friendship with all of us, not only Charles, certainly permits – or even encourages – you to join us whenever you wish!”
“You are very kind, Miss Bingley,” Mr. Darcy said. He was careful not to infuse his voice with too much gratitude, too much kindness, too much…well, anything, lest Miss Bingley assume more than he intended.
“Darcy!!” Mr. Bingley strode into the room and clapped Mr. Darcy on the back. “I am everything glad to see you! You can advise me on wooing the young woman who may very well become my bride!!”
“Bride? Whatever can you mean, Bingley?”
“Come, Darcy, I think we all know what a bride is!” Mr. Bingley smiled.
Mr. Darcy felt that he had missed a step somewhere along the way. “I had no idea…well, who is she, Bingley?”
“Her name is Miss Bennet, and she lives at a nearby estate.”
“Miss Bennet?” Mr. Darcy’s voice rose in disbelief. “From Longbourn?”
“You know her? How is that possible?”
“Why, I met her in London! In point of fact, I escorted her home just this morning! How could you possibly have met her?” Mr. Darcy’s voice rose in protest.
“But she has been here in Hertfordshire since I arrived here!” Mr. Bingley’s voice rose as well.
It was Miss Bingley who understood the situation. “Lord! Have the two of you never been in a drawing room? Clearly, Charles’ Miss Bennet isElizabethBennet, who we know to be the second daughter. She was called Miss Bennet only because her elder sister was absent. Mr. Darcy must have met the elder Miss Bennet in London.”
The shoulders of both men relaxed, and each issued an embarrassed chuckle.
“So my Miss Bennet will now be called Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Bingley said.
Mr. Darcy raised a skeptical brow. “Is sheyourMiss Bennet already? Fast work, indeed. You have not been here more than six weeks, I believe. But if Miss…Elizabeth, is it? If she is as beautiful as her elder sister, I understand your haste.”
Mr. Bingley hesitated. Seeing Mr. Darcy’s brows rise at his hesitation, he said, “She is not beautiful in the traditional sense, Darcy. But she is the perfect young lady to be the mistress of an estate. She is trained in estate management, and has already come to Netherfield to instruct my sisters in their duties.”
Mr. Darcy raised an eyebrow.
“And sheispretty, yes!” Mr. Bingley rushed on. “Not blonde, you understand, nor blue-eyed, but nonetheless quitepretty. And you will like her, Darcy, for she is well-read and studies both Greek and Latin!”
Miss Bingley made a noise that might have been a scoff. Or a laugh. Or a snort.
