“You see friends from your youth all the time!” Elizabeth said.
He waved his hand, dismissing her comment. “Goulding, Best, and the lot of them do not count. Theyare men with whom I was thrown together because we happened to be born in the same corner of Hertfordshire. Frederick Darcy is a friend I chose. The situations are entirely different.” Turning to their companion, he continued. “You said he has a daughter about Lizzy’s age, did you not? What is she like?”
After taking a sip from his cup, Mr Darcy returned it to the table before replying. “My cousin Rebecca is twenty. I do not know how to describe her other than to say she is a lovely person. Actually, I believe she reminds me of Miss Elizabeth.” He blushed, and his gaze fell to his plate; he busied himself slicing a piece of cheese into bits small enough for a mouse.
“Does she?” Mr Bennet said, looking at Elizabeth and quirking an eyebrow. She gave him a stern head shake, begging him to say nothing further.
“You mean, I suppose, that she likes some of the same things I do—taking walks, reading, avoiding practising the pianoforte as much as she should, occasionally teasing people. And dogs, especially those with uncommon names,” she said.
Mr Darcy regarded her and chuckled. “Yes, more or less. She enjoys being in the open air, walking but also riding. She claims her fingers are incapable of finding the right keys on a pianoforte so does not play at all, and she is fond of books, particularly those about travel and exotic locations. She tolerates Budge.”
“What is a Budge?” her father asked.
Answering that meant having to explain that she and Mr Darcy had met on several mornings. She had worried how her father would take the news, but he bore it well;indeed, she did not think he minded at all. She credited that to her admission that she had been reluctant to speak to the gentleman at first—which Mr Darcy confirmed—and telling him about the role Budge had played in encouraging her to listen to him, which made him laugh and tease Mr Darcy for his choice of dog and Elizabeth for only liking him because of Budge.
After completing their repast, they agreed they had best depart, having been absent from their family and friends long enough. They said their farewells in the street, standing by their carriages, which the innkeeper had called for.
“Thank you for including me in your excursion,” Mr Darcy said, bowing his head politely.
Elizabeth curtseyed and was about to reply, but her father spoke first.
“Think nothing of it! Plenty of people will have seen us, and since gossip is the most popular sport in the neighbourhood, everyone will know we spent an agreeable couple of hours together. That will surely give them the impression that you do not look down on my daughter or family.”
Elizabeth was too shocked to say anything, while Mr Darcy spluttered, “That is not—I assure you, sir?—”
Mr Bennet laughed and slapped him on the shoulder; it was not the first time she had seen him do it, and it was yet another sign that he liked him. “If you are to be our friend, we shall have to teach you to recognise a joke! Come along, Lizzy. I swear I can hear your mother and sisters’ anxious remarks drifting in the wind, wondering where we are, or more to the point, wherethe trinkets you bought for them are. We shall see you tomorrow, Mr Darcy. Our regards to your friends.”
Not knowing what to say to Mr Darcy, especially with her father beside her, Elizabeth only smiled at him. She was more than satisfied with the look he gave her in return.
Bennet spentthe short trip back to Longbourn studying his daughter. Uncharacteristically, she remained silent and looked out of the window, although there was nothing noteworthy to see. He was glad they had happened upon Mr Darcy. To think that he had loathed the man just a few weeks ago and would have been glad never to see him again. He had even wished Mr Bingley had not leased Netherfield. At present, Bennet was quite glad events had unfolded as they had. Thanks to it, he felt a sense of pride in himself he had not experienced in years because he had been willing to undertake the task of improving the lives of his family, all in an effort to ensure their respectability and that no one would dare to insult his daughters again. He also had the prospect of seeing his old friend again, and had he not met the young man, he doubted it would ever have occurred to him to seek out Frederick Darcy.
It is as well that we shall renew our connexion, because I have a strong notion that our families will be tied together by more than simple friendship one day soon.
It had been surprising and amusing to learn that Elizabeth and Mr Darcy had met during her early morningwalks—and that she had kept it secret. It helped to explain why he had noticed a degree of familiarity between them that went beyond what was expected after only meeting at a few evening parties. Bennet liked Mr Darcy more and more and believed Elizabeth did as well. It was almost painfully evident that the gentleman’s appreciation for her fine qualities was growing. If their connexion continued to deepen and reach its natural conclusion, would he be a good husband to his dearest girl? If Jane and Mr Bingley also married—and he was almost certain they would—the girls would be pleased to know their husbands were close friends.
Stop, you old fool!You are in danger of sounding like your wife. Let the young people sort themselves out. And prepare yourself to give over care of your two most deserving daughters to other men.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Several times—by which he meant closer to several dozen—Darcy asked himself what was happening between himself and Elizabeth. It was nearly impossible to remember what he had thought when he saw her at the assembly and spoke those fateful words. At present, no matter what he was doing or where he was, he was reminded of her again and again. Miss Bingley had made a remark about longing to be in London and attending ‘truly elegant entertainments’, and he had spent the next interlude reflecting on everything Elizabeth had said about being in town and her opinions of the city. He compared her sentiments to his own: both preferred the country, though her feelings were stronger than his. He supposed that might change when—if—he showed herhisLondon, if she was able to experience it the way he did rather than from the more modest way her aunt and uncle lived. Strolling on the terrace at Netherfield one morning, he had heard a bird sing—a robin, he guessed—which brought to mind the conversations they hadhad about the environs of Hertfordshire and Derbyshire, which had led to speaking about travel.
Was it possible that he was falling in love with her, thatshewas the lady he had been waiting for, the one who would be his life’s companion? Was it possible to deny what his heart already knew to be true?
I must think about this rationally. He was not a man who acted in haste, and as much as part of him wanted to tell her of his burgeoning affection, he knew it would be better to wait a little longer. They should be friends for more than a brief time before such things were spoken of; if Bingley said that he intended to tell Miss Bennet that he was in love with her, Darcy would advise caution solely based on their short acquaintance, and the couple had not had to overcome the same initial dislike he and Elizabeth had. Although, really, had he everdislikedher? He had not appreciated her willingness to dismiss his so-called apology at the church, but in retrospect, she had been correct, and he had come to value the lesson she had imparted that day.
Entering the house after his visit to Meryton, Darcy was glad he had gone—not only because he had seen Elizabeth and her father but because he had escaped the busyness at Netherfield. Servants were rushing back and forth, carrying pieces of furniture or cleaning tools. One young girl almost ran into him as he made his way to the stairs; she looked mortified and apologised, saying, “The mistress says we are to clean the green parlour again. It weren’t done good enough.”
Miss Bingley appeared and scolded the girl, who scurried away. Darcy planned to seek her out later andgive her a coin in recompense; he did not like the harsh tone with which his hostess had spoken to her.
“It is impossible to find good help in the country,” Miss Bingley complained. She tucked her hand around his arm and led him towards the large drawing room the family preferred, apparently unconcerned that he had been going in another direction. “You must tell me how you deal with it at Pemberley.”
“We seldom have any problems. My butler and housekeeper do an excellent job guiding the younger servants and teaching them to do their work properly, and I support them however I might.” His hopes that she had taken his meaning were dashed by her next words.
“Ah, but that is what comes with being in a superior neighbourhood. I am glad, truly I am, that Charles took Netherfield. He can have the satisfaction of knowing he fulfilled my father’s wishes, and it was agreeable to go to St Albans. I do not even dislike Meryton. A few of the people are…acceptable, I suppose. But between us, I look forward to my brother quitting the place and finding an estate elsewhere.”
To his surprise, rather than enter the drawing room, she continued past it, he assumed to extend their walk. He knew she had once hoped that their connexion would be more than that of friends, but he had believed—and mostly still did—that she understood that he did not view her with particular interest. Still, knowing what her wishes had been, he was uneasy being alone with her for so long and listening to her confidences.
“Should we not join the others?” he said. “Is your brother in the drawing room? There is something?—”
