Miss Bingley sighed loudly, and Mrs Hurst said, “She would not be a suitable wife?—”
“Oh, good Lord, Louisa,” Bingley interjected. “First, she is a gentleman’s daughter, so yes, she would.”
“The situation of her mother’s people—” Miss Bingley began to say, but her brother was quick to interrupt her.
“Is not unlike our own. I shall not speak of it again. And before you say she has no dowry, I happen to have more than enough money. I do not care about adding to my fortune. I never have, as you know. Enough about Miss Bennet. I have not known her a month, and it is too soon to think of marriage. Finally, I shall remind you that whom I marry is a matter formeto decide, not either of you. Now, let us return to the topic of how we shall thank our neighbours for their warm welcome.”
Darcy wanted to applaud. Too often, Bingley had let his sisters do and say whatever they liked, even if he privately admitted to Darcy how much he disagreed or disapproved.
Miss Bingley’s lips pursed in evident disgust, and after a brief pause, she said, “Very well. A card party. That is easy enough.”
Bingley’s features twisted into doubt, and he shook his head. “No, it should be something grander than that. I was thinking of a ball.”
“What?” Miss Bingley exclaimed, while Mrs Hurst said, “A ball?”
Bingley nodded eagerly. “I was speaking to some of the ladies when we were at Lucas Lodge, and they told me that Netherfield’s owners used to host balls regularly. It is the only house hereabouts with a ballroom. It will be wonderful! We can even ask some of our friends from town. I can hardly wait!”
It took some insistence—and a long enough discussion that Darcy almost fell asleep—but finally it was agreed. The Bingleys would host a ball at Netherfield before the end of the month.
To Darcy’s astonishment, his first thought was that he longed to talk to Miss Elizabeth about it. He wanted to see her delight, and—even more astonishing—he wanted to ask her for a set.It is only right. It will be the dance we ought to have shared last month.In his heart, he knew it was more than a duty; he, who hated to dance, desired, even longed, to stand up with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Before retiring a while later, Bingley announced that he planned to call at Longbourn the next day. He did not say it was to see Miss Bennet, but anyone who thought otherwise was a fool.
“I shall go with you, if you do not mind,” Darcy said. “I wish to talk to Mr Bennet about my cousin’s letter.”
Bingley grinned and assured him that his company would be most welcome.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bingley chatted incessantly as they rode to Longbourn the next morning, though Darcy only half listened. He felt unaccountably anxious about seeing the Bennets again, especially Mr Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. It was a ridiculous sentiment—was he not an adult, one with an enviable position? He liked to think of himself as a person who was used to confronting difficult situations with resolve and authority. But there it was; he was nervous. Perhaps it was knowing that Mr Bennet had been an intimate friend to his cousin Frederick, a man Darcy looked up to as an uncle, partly due to the difference in their ages but also because his father had often said that Frederick was like the brother he had never had. It might also be because Mr Bennet stood between Darcy and his wish to know Miss Elizabeth better. At first, that had been a necessity, but, more and more, he realised that he relished spending time with her regardless of his desire to earn her forgiveness. It had become vitally important that she thought well ofhim. His actions had placed him in a difficult, even shameful, position, and thanks to her, he had taken steps to become a better man. To be sure, Bingley and Mr Bennet had played a part, but Darcy preferred to think of only Miss Elizabeth having such a pivotal role in his life. He did not question why; that was a matter for another day, after they had known each other for longer than a few weeks.
That was, if he was given the opportunity to know her further.
Arriving at Longbourn, they were shown into the drawing room. He immediately looked for Miss Elizabeth; their eyes met briefly before she averted her gaze. Darcy was almost certain she had given him a quick smile and that she was pleased to see him—as well as hesitant to show that to her family. With luck, after he spoke to Mr Bennet today, the gentleman would loosen his restrictions on him and his daughter conversing.
The two youngest daughters and their father were absent, but Mrs Bennet’s enthusiastic welcome more than made up for any they might have contributed. Her attention was chiefly for Bingley, but Darcy was not forgotten.
“So kind of you to call on us,” she said. “Jane was honoured to receive your sisters’ invitation, Mr Bingley. Naturally, she would have liked to have seen you as well. Is that not true, Jane? But here you are. Please, do sit. Mary, ring the bell for refreshments. Jane, I am sure Mr Bingley would like to know how you enjoyed your day at Netherfield. Oh, Mr Darcy, so good of you to accompany your friend, I am sure. We can have no objections, notafter the other night. You know what I mean. Naturally, Mr Bennet spoke to Mr Best about it—you can be sure his set-down was every bit as sharp as the one he gave—” She stopped abruptly and tittered awkwardly before continuing. “Mr Bennet says I should forget about what that horrible, gossiping woman said.”
“And so we should, Mama,” Miss Elizabeth said, glancing at him. “Mr Darcywaskind to speak so favourably about us, but I suspect he is the sort of gentleman who would prefer not to receive too many thanks.”
“Miss Elizabeth is correct,” he said. “I did only what was right, and I hoped to ensure that she—and others—did not have the mistaken impression that I would listen to people disparaging your family or anyone else so wholly undeserving of such cruelty.”
Miss Bennet and Bingley were sitting together, already lost to the rest of their party, and Mrs Bennet indicated a wing chair she evidently thought Darcy might prefer. It was close to her, suggesting she meant to entertain him and leave her eldest daughter to the gentleman who gave every sign of developing atendrefor her. Bingley would be an enviable match for Miss Bennet; thus Mrs Bennet’s actions might be an attempt to secure a wealthy gentleman. In other words, she was being mercenary. But could he criticise her for it? Was her behaviour really so different from that of many others with young ladies to settle in marriage, including those in his social circle? Acknowledging he would not have considered the situation in this light a month ago—no doubt dismissing Mrs Bennet as scheming and vulgar—he silently thanked MissElizabeth. She had inadvertently forced him to see the people about him in a kinder light. It was one of the many reasons he was finding to appreciate knowing her.
Miss Mary had returned to her seat and picked up her needlework. To Darcy’s relief, Miss Elizabeth took the place next to her mother on an old-fashioned settee.
“Mama, I have heard that Mr Darcy’s estate is in Derbyshire. Does not Aunt Gardiner have a connexion to that county?” she said. She was turned slightly towards her mother, but she frequently glanced at him. It allowed her to be involved in the conversation—perhaps even direct it—without speaking to him and disobeying her father.
“Is it?” Mrs Bennet said. “Now that I think of it, Idorecall hearing that. And yes, you are correct, my sister-in-law does have a connexion to Derbyshire. How clever of you to recollect that detail, Lizzy.” She patted Miss Elizabeth’s hand and turned to him as she continued. “My Lizzy is a particularly clever girl. Everyone says so. That is why she is Mr Bennet’s favourite. Not to say he does not equally love our other girls, or that they lack intelligence, it is just that?—”
“I am sure Mr Darcy realises that,” Miss Elizabeth said softly. “Do you recall where my aunt resided?”
The matron dabbed at her cheek with a lace handkerchief before responding. “It has been some time since I last heard her speak of it, but my brother did say they were thinking of travelling to Derbyshire next year or the year after. Or perhaps they would go to the Lakes. How lovely it must be to travel! My husband is not fondof it, you see, and I do not suppose I would find it easy to spend quite so long in the carriage, but I would like to go to the seaside.”
Her voice had slowed and become quieter as she evidently slipped into a day-dream, which Darcy found amusing—especially when the twitching of Miss Elizabeth’s lips indicated she agreed. She regarded her mother with fondness, and he wished that someone would look at him in a similar manner. In truth, he was almost certain he wished forherto look at him with affection—and more.
“Derbyshire,” Miss Elizabeth whispered, leaning closer to her mother.
