Page 108 of A Question of Character

“And you, Lizzy? Is Mr. Darcy as alarming as Lydia reports?”

Elizabeth loosened the ribbon of her glove and attempted composure. “Not to those who know him.”

“Ah,” her father said. “Then we must all endeavor to survive the acquaintance long enough to discover his harmlessness.”

“He is not harmless,” Lydia said from the floor, wrestling with her other slipper. “He is very rich.”

“A grave danger indeed.”

Elizabeth laughed with the others, but her thoughts had already gone to the morning.

Mr. Darcy was coming to Longbourn.

And this time, he would not be merely a memory carried home from London, nor a promise waiting at the edge of autumn, but a gentleman who would walk through her father’s door and meet her family, her neighbors, her world.

fourteen

Old Acquaintances

Darcy did not sleep well after the assembly.

This was absurd, since the evening had gone better than any reasonable man had a right to expect. Elizabeth had received him with pleasure. She had danced with him twice. She had agreed that he might call at Longbourn. Bingley had spoken of Miss Bennet all the way back to Netherfield until Hurst fell asleep in the carriage and Miss Bingley’s silence became a physical presence.

Still, when morning came, Darcy rose before his valet drew back the curtains and found himself standing at the window, looking over Bingley’s newly leased grounds with very little appreciation for them.

Bingley entered the breakfast room half an hour later in excellent spirits.

“You are going to Longbourn this morning,” he said, before accepting coffee.

“I am.”

“Alone?”

Darcy looked up. “Did you wish to accompany me?”

“I did,” Bingley admitted, taking his seat. “Then I thought better of it. I have just met the Bennets. To appear upon their doorstep the morning after an assembly may seem too eager.”

Darcy considered replying that Bingley had never before feared appearing eager in his life, but there was sense in the decision.

“You may come next time.”

“I hoped you would say so.” Bingley buttered his toast with unusual attention. “If there is a next time, of course.”

“There will be.”

“How confident you are.”

“I was invited.”

“Were you? By Miss Elizabeth or by Mrs. Bennet?”

Darcy gave him a look over his coffee.

Bingley grinned. “Ah. Miss Elizabeth. Very good. Then I shall remain here today and prove to my sisters that I am capable of occupying myself for a morning without your supervision.”

“That will astonish them.”

“It may astonish me.”