Darcy had foundthe evening with the officers agreeable. He had refrained from spending every minute thinking of Miss Elizabeth, though he had collected a number of diverting anecdotes to share with her and imagined the sound of her laughter and how her eyes would dance with mirth when he did. The colonel was a decent chap, interesting enough to have a conversation with during dinner, and some of his officers were likewise amiable. Apart from knowing the evening would give him an easy subject to discuss with a certainlady whose company he wanted much more of, what Darcy most enjoyed was the return to ease between himself and Bingley. It was not in his friend’s nature to cling to resentment and anger; thus it was not a surprise that he gave every appearance of having forgotten his recent disappointment with Darcy. That alone was one reason he valued Bingley’s friendship; he was caring and loyal, and, having been betrayed again and again by his former close companion—George Wickham—Darcy greatly desired having people about him that he could trust.
At Netherfield, they found Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley in the drawing room. Hurst immediately poured himself a large glass of wine and went to sit with his wife.
As Bingley prepared drinks for himself and Darcy, he asked his sisters how they had spent the afternoon. “Did you ask anyone to visit you?”
He had previously suggested that they do so to establish connexions in the neighbourhood. Bingley believed their recent excursion to St Albans had improved his sisters’ opinion of his having leased Netherfield. Darcy suspected it would take more than that, given their longstanding fondness for everything they considered fashionable—especially people—and disdain for what was not.
Exchanging a look with her sister, Miss Bingley said, “Jane Bennet was here for a few hours. We gave her a fine dinner and sent her back to Longbourn.”
“Miss Bennet was here?” Bingley said with a touch more enthusiasm than he had displayed since theyentered the room. “Did any of her sisters accompany her?”
“Which one would we invite? Really, Charles, think about it. The youngest three should not be out in society, and Miss Eliza is intolerable,” Miss Bingley said, glancing at Darcy.
“I like Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley said, his tone sharp. “She is amusing, kind, and excellent company. What I do not like is you speaking meanly of our neighbours.”
This led to a short argument between Bingley and his sisters during which Hurst rubbed his forehead and Darcy counted the number of yellow flowers in a large painting.
“Enough,” Mrs Hurst stated. “Our opinions of Miss Eliza will never be the same. You are free to converse with her as much as you like, Charles, but Caroline and I are equally free to find her disagreeable.”
“She has a conceited independence that is disgusting to me,” Miss Bingley added.
“How can you say that?” Bingley interjected. “I have hardly ever seen you speak to her?—”
“But I have heard her talking to others. It is enough for me,” Miss Bingley asserted. “Miss Jane Bennet is sweet, I grant you, if a little…too accustomed to life in the country. But her family! Brother, you cannot have failed to notice that the Bennets are not the most respectable people.”
“How so?” Darcy enquired, the sound of his voice surprising himself as much as anyone else.
Miss Bingley regarded him as though uncertain she had understood the question, leaving Mrs Hurst torespond. “I cannot criticise Miss Bennet, but the behaviour of her sisters and mother is deplorable, and Mrs Bennet’s connexions are all in trade. Her brother-in-law is the town’s attorney! Need I say more?”
Her sneering tone, her words, or a combination of both made something intangible shift inside Darcy. A month ago, he would have agreed with her at once, but at present, having been forced to confront his arrogance and having learnt more about Mr Bennet, spent time with Miss Elizabeth, and heard her speak of her mother and sisters, he was uncomfortable and even felt vaguely sick to hear Mrs Hurst disparage the Bennets. Briefly, he debated whether he should remain silent; but what did it say of him if he did not defend them, and was that better or worse than possibly quarrelling with Bingley’s sisters?
The image of Miss Elizabeth on their recent walk—her eyes bright, cheeks rosy, and lips turned up in pleasure as they spoke of poetry—made the choice easy.
“I like the Bennets. I hope to know them better while I remain here, and especially that I can earn their forgiveness for my rude behaviour last month. Mr Bennet and my cousin Frederick were friends in their younger years, and my cousin writes highly of him. That is good enough for me.”
“Well said, Darcy!” Bingley cried, while his sisters’ countenances reflected their disapproval.
“Your cousin and Mr Bennet, you said?” Hurst asked.
Darcy nodded and explained the connexion further. Fortunately, neither lady added to the discussion, but he noticed them yet again exchanging looks. He held suchwordless conversations with his two male cousins that were closest in age to him—Viscount Bramwell and Colonel Fitzwilliam, the children of his uncle the earl—and knew it was the result of knowing them so intimately that you always understood how they would view various situations.
“We ought to entertain,” Bingley said, shifting the topic. “Other than having callers and you asking Miss Bennet here today, we have not hosted our neighbours yet. Caroline, you ought to be eager to do so. You spoke about it as a benefit of living with me in the country. What ideas do you have?”
Darcy bit his lips together to avoid laughing at the expression that flashed across Miss Bingley’s countenance. Bingley could be credulous to the point of naivety; probably he truly believed his sister would leap at the chance to welcome their neighbours to Netherfield despite her dislike of them. Possibly, Bingley simply believed that if he refused to acknowledge his sister’s mean-spirited sentiments, she would keep them to herself. Unfortunately, she did not.
“All the fuss and money for those people?”
“Caroline,” Bingley admonished.
Mrs Hurst, who Darcy had noticed was usually protective of her younger sister, said to Bingley, “I suppose it is necessary since you are intent on making connexions here. Be sure you are not making the wrong sorts of connexions, however.”
“What do you mean by that?” Bingley asked.
Darcy finished his drink and wished he had another;he believed he could guess how Mrs Hurst would answer, and his friend would not appreciate it.
“Everyone can see that you favour Miss Bennet,” she said.
“I do,” Bingley agreed. “I like her a great deal.”
