Page 95 of Dear Friend

Willowbrook would do very nicely, and Caroline was quite certain that by the time their conversation ended, Elizabeth Bennet would have little desire to continue being courted by Mr. Darcy.

Chapter Thirty-Two

23rd November 1811

Netherfield

Elizabeth

The Netherfield ball had occupied Longbourn for the better part of a week before the evening itself finally arrived. Mrs. Bennet spoke of little else, declaring it the crowning event of the season, particularly since two of the most eligible gentlemen in Hertfordshire were courting her elder daughters.

Elizabeth looked forward to the evening with equal enthusiasm. It would be the first ball she attended since Mr. Darcy had begun paying his addresses to her, and the prospect of dancing with him without either of them pretending that his attentions were of no particular consequence pleased her exceedingly.

At half past seven, the Bennets, accompanied by Mr. Collins, left Longbourn for Netherfield. Mr. Bennet had chosen to attend as well, chiefly out of respect for Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, both of whom he declared he liked well enough to take some interest in the evening’s proceedings.

By the time their carriage reached Netherfield, the house was already bright with candlelight and crowded with arriving guests. Music drifted from the ballroom while servants moved through the entrance hall collecting cloaks, and Mr. Bingley stood with his sister near the doors receiving the company. His pleasure increased so visibly when Jane entered that Elizabeth smiled before allowing her gaze to travel farther into the hall.

Mr. Darcy was not there.

She had scarcely felt the first small disappointment before Caroline Bingley stepped forward to greet them, elegant in deep orange silk and wearing an expression of faultless civility. “Miss Bennet. Miss Eliza. How very pleased I am that you have come.”

Jane answered warmly enough. Elizabeth had begun to do the same when Caroline touched her lightly upon the arm and drew her half a step nearer. “Miss Eliza, before you go in, may I steal you for a moment? There is something I have been meaning to ask.”

Elizabeth looked at her in surprise. A private conversation with Caroline Bingley was hardly an invitation she would ordinarily welcome, but Mrs. Bennet and the younger girls were already proceeding towards the ballroom while Jane had been claimed almost entirely by Bingley. Curiosity prevailed, and Elizabeth allowed Caroline to draw her towards one of the tall windows at the quieter end of the hall.

“I hope nothing is amiss, Miss Bingley.”

“Oh, not at all.” Caroline smoothed one glove at the wrist. “I was only remembering our conversation when you last stayed at Netherfield, and something occurred to me afterwards which I have never quite understood.”

Elizabeth raised her brows. “What did I say that has troubled you so long?”

“You spoke a great deal of Miss Harding, yet you never mentioned that she and Mr. Darcy were acquainted.”

The mention of Julia was enough to catch Elizabeth’s attention, but the rest of the sentence made her stare. “I did not mention it because they are not acquainted.”

“No?”

“Not at all. Mr. Darcy knows of Julia only from what he may have heard since coming into Hertfordshire and from what I have told him myself.”

Caroline’s brows lifted slightly. “How strange.”

Elizabeth’s hand stilled upon her fan. “What is strange?”

“Oh, very likely nothing.” Caroline glanced towards the ballroom before returning her attention to Elizabeth. “I only wondered because I happened to see one of the letters you had written to Miss Harding amongst Mr. Darcy’s correspondence.”

For a moment Elizabeth thought she must have misunderstood her. “One of my letters?”

“Yes.”

Elizabeth shook her head, willing herself to find some explanation while trying to convince herself that perhaps she had heard wrongly. “I have never written to Mr. Darcy inappropriately, if that is what you are implying.”

“Oh, not a letter written to him.” Caroline touched her shoulder as though seeking to calm her. “I mean one of the letters you wrote to Miss Julia. You must know I would never imply such a thing.”

Elizabeth’s fingers tightened slightly into a fist. The words themselves were harmless enough, yet there was something in Caroline’s manner which made them feel otherwise.

“I fear, Miss Bingley, that you must be mistaken. Perhaps what you saw was a letter from Mr. Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, for he is trying to help me locate Julia. You may have seen something mentioning Julia and me, but surely not one of my letters to her.”

“I know what I saw, Miss Bennet. In fact, it was the direction upon the letter which reminded me of something else.” Caroline adjusted her glove again before meeting Elizabeth’s eyes. “Mr. Darcy was in Somerset some months before we came to Hertfordshire. At Willowbrook, I believe.”