Page 22 of The Widower of Pemberley

When he put her down, there was that dark frown on his face again, and Elizabeth could not decide what it meant. He nodded to her, to his sister, and to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst before leaving the room.

Chapter Five

Darcy had been struck when he saw Elizabeth Bennet seated in a too-large gown borrowed from his sister in the drawing room at Netherfield. She had been indulging his daughter in the pretence of a tea party, and a sliver of bare leg above her poultice-wrapped ankle had been visible.

Miss Elizabeth had stuck in his mind more than any other person since he had come to Netherfield, and that frustrated him.

The leading belle of the neighbourhood, a lovely woman sufficiently aware of her ample attractions. She was confident, witty, and could speak easily in any gathering. Her fine eyes struck him each time their gazes met—which was too often for comfort.

All this reminded him of Mary.

He would think of her no more. It was unfortunate that the young woman had made a pet of Georgiana, but Darcy would not stand athwart of his sister’s pleasure without a better reason than the woman’s superficial similarity to the lady whose memory he loathed and grieved.

Or so he said to himself.

Yet, whether he would or not, the mind of a single man is always likely to be thinking about a single woman that he finds particularly beautiful, wondering what he might do to gain her affections and asking himself whether he wished to have those affections at all.

Though he did not say as much, when Darcy had suggested to Georgiana that she invite Elizabeth Bennet to keep her company while the gentlemen were out of the house, he had wished to know how Miss Elizabeth might behave around his daughter.

Of course, he suspected Miss Elizabeth’s motives in befriending Georgiana.

He had been taught that those from a lower station in life naturally sought every advantage when they began a friendship with one of superior rank. Any single woman would scheme to get his approval. They all desperately wished to impress him with how disinterested their interested intentions were.

He expected nothing less from Miss Elizabeth.

His parents had encouraged him to only trust in friendship with those who had wealth and station equal to his own—“do not seek to become the companion to a great noble above you, for you must not act with servility. You are a Darcy, you are the grandson of an earl, and you will behave with the dignity befitting your family. But also, do not become close with persons who can only benefit from the connection.”

“They cannot be trusted.”

His dear friend Bingley was barely of high enough station for his mother to have accepted him as a boon companion for her dear son.

Darcy now knew better.

No one could be trusted.

Wealthy women could be mercenary. And wealthy women oft betrayed their husbands for reasons mercurial rather than mercenary.

Georgiana never took easily to friends close to her in rank and consequence.

Darcy’s sister had been sent to a school for several years after their father died. She never spoke of the other girls there with anything but unhappiness, and she never exchanged any letters with them. Since she had been removed from the place, her mood had vastly improved.

He hoped that Miss Elizabeth would prove worthy of his sister’s regard and that the connection would turn out to be to her benefit.

It was not surprising at all that his daughter had taken easily to Miss Elizabeth. In the way of little children, Emily became the dearest of friends with anyone willing to play games with her. Still, Emily’s enthusiasm for ‘Miss Lizzy’ was more than she had displayed for any of the other young gentlewomen who doted upon the little heiress.

That night, the irritability that Darcy had often endured of late had not affected him, and he had participated in the conversation with pleasure. Miss Elizabeth and Bingley had made everyone laugh, though by different means. While Emily was in the drawing room, Miss Elizabeth had encouraged the girl to sit next to her, and she had smiled at her, employed a mix of funny and scary voices, adopted silly facial expressions, happily read books to the little creature, and served as the castle to which Emily fled when Georgiana and Darcy undertook the role of terrifying monsters.

When Emily had become too active and wild as she tired, Miss Elizabeth had firmly but kindly ordered her to not jump upon her while her side was injured.

Emily, being a tiny, undisciplined wild thing, had continued to do so, and Darcy had immediately picked her up.

The girl had burst into wild sobs. This had embarrassed him a little.

At three years of age, sufficiently rigorous discipline could make it so that a child would not misbehave in company. And he felt a sort of shame, a weak echo of his feelings at suspecting that all his acquaintance knew he had been cuckolded, at his utter unwillingness to drag Emily to her room so he could spank her until she quieted.

His father had frequently done such things to him and Georgiana.

The duty of children is to be quiet and diligently learn their lessons.