Page 67 of Miss Bingley’s Return

Darcy fixed Miss Elizabeth with an expression of exaggerated patience, which he then ruined by winking at her. “Well, Miss Elizabeth? Will you accept the burden of Fitzwilliam’s acquaintance? He is most persistent—you may never escape him.”

“If you say one word about reprobates, Darcy . . .”

Miss Elizabeth was laughing at their antics. “Though I may regret it, I shall take the risk.”

“Very well,” said Darcy. “Fitzwilliam, may I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet, a young lady who hails from a neighboring estate to Bingley’s leased property. Miss Elizabeth, please allow me to introduce my cousin, Colonel Anthony Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam is my uncle, the Earl of Matlock’s second son.”

“Hertfordshire,” said Fitzwilliam, understanding at once. “Tell me, Miss Elizabeth—do you understand the sort of man with whom you are consorting?”

“Oh, I think I have the measure of him,” replied she.

“That is most curious.” Fitzwilliam turned to Darcy and clapped him on the back again. “Darcy, I shall do you the singular favor of not stealing Miss Elizabeth from you.”

“Please accept my gratitude, Cousin,” said Darcy, dry as dust.

“In return, I wish to ask two questions. First, might I have your next sets, Miss Elizabeth? Second, do you have any sisters?”

Miss Bennet could not hold in her mirth. “Yes, Colonel Fitzwilliam, you may have my next sets. And I have four sisters, the eldest of whom is standing right over there.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam followed her pointed finger to where Miss Bennet stood with Harrington in an attitude of close conversation.

“Well, well,” said Fitzwilliam, rubbing his hands together. “She is as pretty as you are, Miss Elizabeth. I would not dream of interfering with Darcy’s courtship, but I am afraid Harrington has no such family protection.”

“You may attempt it if you like,” said Darcy, quiet satisfaction welling within him. “Miss Bennet is not one to be impressed by your glib tongue, and she finds Harrington very agreeable.”

Miss Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand, but Fitzwilliam took no notice. “That is disappointing, Darcy, but perhaps my Father’s title will impress her. Failing that, the dashing figure I present in my regimentals will do the trick.”

Darcy exchanged a glance with Miss Elizabeth and burst into laughter.

“If you wish for empty-headed ladies who love nothing more than a man in a red coat,” said Miss Elizabeth, “I shall introduce you to my youngest sisters. Before I do so, I shall warn you—you may never be free of them if you allow it.”

“Oh, so they are that sort, are they?” drawled Fitzwilliam.

“You have no idea, Cousin,” said Darcy.

The music started for the sets, and Fitzwilliam turned to Miss Elizabeth, offering his hand. “Come, Miss Elizabeth. You shall tell me all about your enchanting sisters while we dance. If you intrigue me enough, I may keep my promise not to steal you from Darcy.”

Miss Elizabeth caught Darcy’s eye as she allowed his cousin to lead her away, her expression mischief personified. Darcy stood by the dance floor, noting that Miss Bennet also had a partner, and Harrington had found another woman to dance with, though he was keeping a close eye on Miss Bennet. As for Miss Elizabeth, she appeared pleased with Fitzwilliam’s company, though her eyes found Darcy often. It was with complacency that Darcy watched the proceedings; despite Fitzwilliam’s jests, Darcy knew there was no better man in the world than his cousin.

Caroline Bingley recognized the exact moment when all her plans failed. Though it was a bitter pill to swallow, she had no choice but to acknowledge even that was false—one unguarded exclamation in a social situation did not cause their collapse. The shaky foundation had predated it by much longer than she wished to acknowledge.

“You wish to return to Netherfield?” asked Charles, his expression dumbfounded.

“If you will allow me the use of it,” said Mr. Darcy, remaining measured as he usually was, though he recognized the attention of the room on them.

“That is curious, Darcy, for I had not thought you pleased at all with Hertfordshire.”

“The reality is a little different, Bingley,” replied Mr. Darcy. “I was not familiar enough with Hertfordshire to be comfortable when we were there before. There is, however, a matter of business I must see to, and I can only do it there.”

Had Mr. Darcy’s eyes not found Miss Elizabeth’s form across the room, had Charles not followed his gaze, Caroline knew her brother would have remained ignorant of the true reason for his wish to return. But Charles caught sight of Eliza Bennet speaking to Clara, noted her soft smile at Mr. Darcy, and comprehension bloomed in his eyes.

“Business in Hertfordshire, eh?” asked Charles, his tone now sly. “If you wish it, the estate is yours. I shall not extend the lease, so you should go about your wooing without delay.”

“Or perhaps I shall liberate the lease from you, my friend.” Mr. Darcy grinned. “If matters proceed as I hope, I may need a place to stay in the neighborhood.”

“Oh, to be certain,” replied Charles. “Will you be the only one traveling?”

“Georgiana will join me, though not immediately. Though I have not spoken to him, I suspect Harrington will also wish to spend some months there.”