The day of the party at Haye-Park started with as much blue sky and gentle breezes as anyone could wish for, especially since it was the start of November. Elizabeth was happy to see her various friends, but what made her particularly enjoy the afternoon, whether it should or not, was Mr Darcy offering to escort her on a walk round the lake. Other people were likewise undertaking the stroll, but the two of them were left to themselves. She did not purposely try to exclude everyone else, but although Charlotte and Miss Goulding attempted to join them at separate times, they did not remain long.
Elizabeth supposed the ladies simply did not find her and Mr Darcy’s conversation to their liking. They were not being rude, but if two people were in the midst of a discussion, whether it was about Plato or potatoes, was it not up to the interrupting person to find a way to add to it, rather than try to force a change in subject?
Listening to Mr Darcy’s deep, smooth voice all day would be no hardship to Elizabeth, regardless of what he said. As it happened, she still found him one of the most interesting men she had ever met. It was being able to talk to someone new, an intelligent, well-educated man who was able and willing to tell her about the world beyond Meryton. She would take pleasure in it while it lasted. After all, what was the harm?
Part way round the lake, she realised she was so distracted by his presence that she was not taking in the loveliness of the autumn day or the delightful music of water lapping against the water’s rocky edge and reminded herself not to become lost in their growing friendship.
“Your Pemberley sounds like a wonderful place,” she said after he finished telling her how the lake on his estate compared to the one before them. “I hope I have the opportunity to visit Derbyshire. Between what you say about it and everything my aunt has shared, I am almost prepared to call it the most charming county in the country, even though I have not been within a hundred miles of it!”
As they were sharing a laugh, the sound of another couple’s cheer caused both her and Mr Darcy to look over their shoulders. It was Mr Bingley and Jane. Her arm was wrapped about his, his hand covering hers, and even from a distance, Elizabeth knew her sister was exceedingly happy.
“Mr Bingley has impressed the neighbourhood with his open manners and, should he wish it, he will soon have a great number of friends here. He already does, I believe.”
“Bingley is a genial man. He has been for as long as I have known him.”
“Has he always been able to charm ladies as deftly as I have seen him do here?” She kept her tone light, but the answer was important to her.
He chuckled. “That, too, is Bingley’s way. I do not mean to suggest he is careless—or worse. It is easy for him to win favour wherever he goes, but he is an honourable man in all his dealings. I have never known him to be capricious.”
It was enough to reassure Elizabeth, and she resolved to worry no more about Jane and Mr Bingley. Perhaps they truly would fall in love and marry, just as Mrs Bennet foresaw. As long as Jane had the wonderful future she deserved, Elizabeth would be content.
Mirroring the conversation Elizabeth and Jane had had just two days earlier, the sisters again spoke of Mr Bingley before retiring that night. Elizabeth told Jane what Mr Darcy had said about him.
“Thus reassured, I give you my permission to like him as well as you wish.” Elizabeth smiled in an exaggerated benevolent manner and silently let it be known she was waiting to receive Jane’s gratitude.
“You must not tease me, Lizzy, not about this.” Jane’s cheeks were rosy.
They were sitting at opposite ends of Jane’s bed, and Elizabeth reached across the short distance between them to clasp her sister’s hand.
“I beg your forgiveness. You know I would not injure you for the world. I shall henceforth hold my tongue when it comes to Mr Bingley.”
Jane nodded but was not yet prepared to look at Elizabeth. “He is truly everything a young man ought to be, and he is so good to me, so attentive. He always wants to know my opinion, and-and helistens. Do you know how many men cannot even manage to appear as though they care when I speak?”
“Oh, I do,” Elizabeth assured her. “They are convinced that only what they or another man say is at all worth the while. Would it surprise you if, when faced with such a gentleman, I occasionally express a shocking opinion, just to test whether they are paying attention?”
Jane chuckled, and moved to sit beside Elizabeth, both of them resting their backs against the headboard.
“I would expect nothing less from you, but take care that Mama does not learn of it. You know how much it would vex her.” Elizabeth agreed, and Jane continued. “Speaking of gentlemen, I must ask about Mr Darcy. You appear to like his company. Are you being careful with your heart?”
“There is no need for caution. I am in no danger of forgetting myself, and I am well aware that the most Mr Darcy and I could ever be is friends.”
Elizabeth would never admit that there had been one or two nights, lying in bed, alone in the quiet darkness, when she had imagined a joy-filled future for herself involving Mr Darcy, their many healthy children, and his magnificent estate in Derbyshire. In the light of day, she could ignore the electric spark she felt each time she saw him across the room, the shivers that ran along her spine when she looked into the dark depths of his gaze, but at night, every suppressed feeling haunted her.
“Why do you say that? Anything is possible—”
Elizabeth chuckled, though to her ears, it lacked genuine humour. “Not in this instance. You know it is not. Mr Darcy’s noble connexions prevent him from marrying a mere Miss Bennet of Longbourn. Even Mama believes that, and you know she usually scoffs at any suggestion that such matters should play a role in choosing a marriage partner. I may be a gentleman’s daughter, but he is the grandson of an earl! I hope I am sensible enough to know such matches seldom happen. I shall settle for a very different sort of husband and be content with my lot in life.” She swallowed heavily before continuing. “Besides, very soon, I expect Mr Darcy to return to his family. He is guardian to his younger sister. Miss Darcy is just a little older than Lydia, and from the way he speaks of her, it is evident he loves her dearly.”
“Speaking of other gentlemen, has there been any further word from William? I meant to ask Papa at dinner, but I forgot. Will he finally be home soon?”
To her shame, Elizabeth realised she had not thought of her cousin since shortly after Mr Darcy’s return to the neighbourhood. “Yes. You can ask Papa to show you the latest letter tomorrow. You know he would be happy to let you read it for yourself. I shall say goodnight.”
With that, she stood and went to her own bedchamber and a restless sleep.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Whenever Darcy allowed his thoughts to wander, he reflected on his surprise at how glad he was to be in Hertfordshire. It had been several days since he had returned from London, and while he always appreciated Bingley’s company, the reason for his good humour was a certain captivating young lady. Simply put, he could hardly stop thinking of Elizabeth, and for the most part, he no longer tried to convince himself he should. Darcy was not prepared to say what he expected from their friendship; for the moment, he was content to let it continue to grow.
Bingley and his sister often asked his advice about this or that, and he was glad to do what he could for them, but Netherfield was their home, not his, and he was conscious of involving himself too much. It was difficult not to do more than he should, especially on those days when the weather kept him confined to the house, but with other matters to occupy his mind, he managed well enough. Miss Elizabeth was an avid reader, and without exactly planning it, they had started reading the same book, which allowed them to discuss their impressions of it and debate the author’s meaning whenever they met. He found it diverting, and she gave every evidence of feeling likewise.
