Bingley asked whether he wanted more coffee. Darcy declined, and his friend refilled his own cup and took a sip.
“Caroline has really taken to her new responsibilities. I am proud of her. She had no mother to show her how to be a good mistress, yet I would say she is doing an excellent job. Her education and diligence mean she will succeed at whatever task is given to her or that she takes on herself.”
Seeing a response was necessary, Darcy said, “Miss Bingley is very accomplished.” He could not think what else to say. Bingley appeared pleased, although Darcy thought the remark was trite; so many women were called ‘accomplished’ that the word had lost all meaning.
“It is no surprise to me, of course, and I imagine she will be snatched up by a worthy gentleman soon. Very soon. A lady of Caroline’s quality will not remain single long.”
Darcy squirmed ever so slightly. He did not like to talk about matrimony with anyone, especially when they had daughters or sisters in need of husbands. Bingley had never hinted that he wanted Darcy as a brother-in-law, and Darcy hoped he did not start. It would spell the end of their friendship. While Miss Bingley was everything she should be, and Darcy might once have speculated on her suitability, she had never made him feel even a fraction of what he did for Miss Elizabeth.
After a brief silence, Bingley said, “Tell me, Darcy, what do you think of my new neighbours? We have been here a fortnight already. You must have an opinion. Let us say…the Bennets. I saw you talking to Mr Bennet and Miss Elizabeth yesterday. Do you like them?”
Darcy kept his eyes on his cup, which he slowly spun round. “I would say you are fortunate in the neighbourhood. Some of the people are tiresome, as one would expect. It is not a large society, which I imagine would be tedious if you had to remain throughout the year, but since you have the means to stay in town or travel elsewhere when you like, that should not matter.”
“And the Bennets?”
If Bingley spoke with anything other than his usual light, almost off-handed tone, Darcy might have been suspicious about his friend twice asking his opinion of the family. Then again, perhaps it was because Bingley felt his interest in Miss Bennet growing.
“I imagine we think alike of them. I have not spent much time with the younger three daughters or Mrs Bennet, but Mr Bennet is an agreeable, respectable gentleman. I do not believe I told you, but we discovered he knows one of my father’s cousins.”
“Oh?”
They finished breakfast with Darcy explaining the connexion between Mr Bennet and his cousin Frederick Reed.
* * *
The day became rainy, confining them to the house. Caroline grabbed onto it as an excellent opportunity to spend more time with Mr Darcy. Bingley’s account of their conversation at breakfast was disappointing. Rather than finding a way to hint to Mr Darcy that the Bennets were beneath him, which they undoubtedly were, her brother had discovered Mr Bennet had been at university with one of Mr Darcy’s relations. The Bennets would exploit that weak connexion to their benefit, and Mr Darcy might end by seeing them as friends and not merely acquaintances.
Caroline ordered refreshments and invited Charles and Mr Darcy to join her. She made sure to include all the latter’s favourites, even if it did result in more food than was really needed for a light meal. She wanted to show that she was attentive to his comfort, as a good wife should be to her husband.
“What has kept you occupied all morning, sir?” Caroline asked Mr Darcy, who had been in his apartment since breakfast.
Mr Darcy looked up from his plate which held only a bit of cheese, a piece of cake, and an apple. There was no trace of the meats or pies, and Caroline was growing weary of the excess food being used to feed the servants. They were eating well, far more than they had the right to expect, and it was costing her a great deal of money.
“I have been reading a treatise on diseases in sheep. I do not believe it is something that would interest you.”
Mr Darcy was right about that. Caroline did not like animals, not even the silly little dogs some ladies kept.
“It hardly sounds like an entertaining read,” Bingley said with a laugh. “I thought you were amusing yourself on such a gloomy day. If I had known you had your nose stuck into something like that, I would have coaxed you out of your chamber to join me in a game of billiards or chess.”
Mr Darcy stared at him for a moment, and Caroline worried her brother’s words had given him a poor impression, suggesting that Bingley was not serious about country concerns. He fully intended to buy an estate, as their father had wanted, but when he was in the country, her brother was interested in sport and other amusements. Bingley always talked about hiring a competent steward and leaving the management to them, as many gentlemen did. Mr Darcy was often critical of people who took so little interest in their estates, and thus they did not want him to know her brother’s true sentiments. She could feel her irritation at the situation growing like a ball of hot fire in her belly. It was tiresome to always have to be on guard.
“It is not meant to be entertaining, though I do find it agreeable to learn more about matters that have relevance to my tenants and Pemberley’s continued prosperity,” Mr Darcy said.
“Just so,” Bingley said. “It is important, of course, but on such a dark, dank day, I always feel the need to counter the weather by pursuing more pleasurable activities. It is fortunate you went for a ride earlier. I am afraid none of us are going anywhere for the rest of the day.”
Mr Darcy said nothing and turned to the window.
“I agree with you, Charles. What shall we do with the afternoon? I would be happy to provide music while the two of you play a game, or we might all sit down to cards.”
Both she and Bingley watched Mr Darcy, waiting for him to respond.
“If you do not mind, I have letters to write. I owe my cousin one, and I must reply to Georgiana’s latest.”
With a little more conversation, it was agreed that Mr Darcy would write his letters in the drawing room, where the fire was built up and doing an excellent job of chasing away the cold. Bingley claimed he also had letters to write, though Caroline did not believe him, in part because he hated writing to anyone and did everything he could to avoid it. Caroline would play, which she said would be her way to keep them company while they did their work.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Elizabeth was disappointed to have missed her walk that morning, but her mother had required her assistance, which largely meant listening to her talk about men and marriage. By the time breakfast was behind them, the weather had taken a turn for the worse, and she was confined indoors. She was reading in the sitting room, her mother and sisters about her, when Mr Bennet opened the door. He looked about until he spotted her, curled up on an armchair in the corner.
