Page 9 of The Work of a Moment

“Bingley, what has happened to your quick decisions? If you care about Miss Bennet, go back to Hertfordshire. But you must leave Miss Bingley in town. Miss Bennet was the essence of patience, but she was uncommon in her willingness to tolerate your sister’s barbs and disdain. Continuing to do so would have dampened her ardour, eventually. You cannot allow such behaviour around any lady you wish to court.”

“Of course, of course,” Bingley cried, seemingly surprised at the bluntness in Darcy’s advice. “Caroline is… Well, yes, perhaps Miss Bennet’s gentle character was injured? Unlike Miss Elizabeth, who seemed to enjoy sparring with Caroline”—he turned to look at Darcy—“and with you.”

Perhaps as much as I enjoyed sparring with her. Darcy could admit that much to himself, if not to Bingley. He could not deny that he had spent more than one evening wondering about Elizabeth Bennet and had been plagued by too many thoughts of the lady in the days since they had parted. Their final conversation after the ball had left him dissatisfied, and he wondered why she had seemed out of spirits. Of course, her family had been there, exhibiting themselves at their worst, but her countenance had seemed more than mere embarrassment or fatigue. She had stood apart, her shoulders slumped and her dark eyes averted from the company in Netherfield’s entry hall. He was glad he had gone to her and provoked conversation—and a small smile. Her eyes had not sparkled with liveliness but still expressed the compelling force that drew him to her.

Fortunately, Bingley was engrossed with his own predicament and did not notice Darcy’s preoccupation.

“Caroline claims herself expert in understanding the ways women think, and yet she was less help than hindrance to both Miss Bennets.” Bingley looked thoughtful for a moment, squinting as though he were struggling to come to a decision. “Do you think I should return?”

“I think you should discount the feelings of others and follow your own heart.”

“I hate to think Caroline is correct and Miss Bennet felt nothing for me. I was sure she did. Something, though, was altered in how her sister perceived me. Miss Elizabeth appeared less warm in my company after their stay at Netherfield.” Bingley stilled, his head cocked to one side as he considered his epiphany. Suddenly, he turned to Darcy. “Perhaps she determined her sister’s happiness was not to be found with me and has convinced Miss Bennet of it.”

Devil take it, he cannot listen, blaming his own abandonment of a lady who seemed cool to his overtures on her sister?

“Miss Elizabeth hardly seems a villain, Bingley.”

Finally, his patience for equivocation at an end, Darcy rose from his chair. “You have the next month in which to sort your thoughts, old man. I wish you safe travels and a joyous Christmastide. I shall see you in town come March and will expect you to dance with a pretty girl or two in the meanwhile.” He held out his hand. “There are pretty girls in Scarborough as well, I assume.”

Bingley stood, shrugging. “Perhaps so. There are pretty girls everywhere.”

Smiling, Darcy clasped Bingley’s hand. “Write to me of the assemblies and parties you attend there. I cannot promise to make out half your words, but I shall be content to know you are making the effort to be content.”

CHAPTER 8

Some Effort at Happiness

Elizabeth’s tendency to forget whatever had given her displeasure in the past was practised in even greater habit by her elder sister, thus when Elizabeth arrived in Cheapside in March for a short visit before journeying to Kent for a reunion with her newly married friend, she found Jane to be in the happiest of humours.

While much of her sister’s contentment was found in the delight she took in caring for her young cousins, Jane’s confession to her aunt of Miss Bingley’s spiteful letters—and indeed, her sharing of the lady’s cruel words—seemed to further dispel any lingering melancholy. So too had her friendship with Mrs Dallish, whom she had written was a ‘lovely, intelligent lady’ and through whom she had befriended others in town.

Although the lady had returned with her husband to their home in Devon before Elizabeth’s arrival, some of the others Jane had come to know had maintained their acquaintance. Chief amongst them were the Catesby brothers, whom the Gardiners vouched for as single men of good character and reputation. ‘Not the sort of capricious, inconstant men who would trifle with a lady’s heart,’ her aunt had whispered.

Mr Catesby, a lean, bespectacled gentleman with a small estate in Faversham, had begun calling on Jane just a week prior. He was proving to be all that was good and seemed besotted by and respectful of Jane, who was more than content in his company. Mr Bingley’s buoyant if perfidious charm appeared forgot—if Mr Catesby boasted less hair and height than Netherfield’s capricious master, his warmth and gravity more than compensated.

Mr Catesby’s younger brother, a sea captain, possessed the humour one might expect in a homely second son, and within moments of their first meeting, appeared rather enamoured with Elizabeth. She enjoyed his cheerful conversation but would not encourage a deeper connexion. It was Jane’s heart that mattered.

Captain Catesby was to leave town in a se’nnight, but Elizabeth’s own stay was briefer. She was to journey to Kent with the Lucases in two days. Although the news was already known to the Catesbys, their pleasure in describing the country to Elizabeth was fervent.

“Although I am partial to my more inland forests, you will enjoy the walks at Rosings,” said Mr Catesby. “The gardens are rather formal, but there is much to admire in even so well-cultivated a park.”

“Are you acquainted with Lady Catherine de Bourgh?” Elizabeth asked.

He demurred, somewhat awkwardly, and stated that through his mother, he was aware that Lady Catherine did not much join local society. “Her nephew, whom I knew at Cambridge, advises her on managing the estate.”

“Mr Darcy?”

Mr Catesby seemed startled by Elizabeth’s familiarity with the name. “Indeed. Are you acquainted with him?”

She bit her lip and glanced at Jane. To her relief, her sister’s serene countenance was unchanged. “A little. He visited Hertfordshire in the autumn with friends.”

“Ah, I regret that I have not kept up the acquaintance,” he replied. “I recall Darcy’s father died after we left Cambridge, and he has since busied himself managing their estate in Derbyshire.” Mr Catesby glanced at his brother, who was sitting beside Elizabeth and listening with interest to the conversation. “Our own father died two years ago, and I have been similarly occupied at Bilton Hall. I would be pleased to renew our friendship, if we should encounter one another, as we have much in common.”

Elizabeth attempted to look disinterested when she asked, “Is Mr Darcy often in Kent?”

“I suppose,” said Mr Catesby, bemusement in his voice. “It is said that Lady Catherine anticipates joining Rosings to her nephew’s estate when he weds her daughter. Mr Darcy has evaded those expectations and is often at Pemberley with his sister.”

Elizabeth was gleeful to hear that at least some of Miss Bingley’s wishes would be thwarted if Mr Darcy’s aunt had her way. Although mindful that Jane might dislike her persistence and that Mr Catesby might find her overly curious, she asked, “Miss Darcy is not so very young, is she? As an educated heiress, she is likely yearning for the attractions of town.”