Page 17 of To Win Her Affections

A part of Elizabeth wondered if Miss Bingley understood the significance of Kent, but she took no notice of it. “Yes, I was aware of dear Jane’s presence in London. We even met a time or two, though you understand I have little time for an acquaintance from the country.”

“William spoke to me of your sisters,” said Georgiana.

“I have four sisters, Georgiana,” said Elizabeth. “My youngest sisters are about your age.”

“Then it would be wonderful to make their acquaintance when the occasion permits.” Georgiana offered a shy smile.

“Oh, that is something you may wish to reconsider, Georgiana dear,” said Miss Bingley before Elizabeth could respond.

Elizabeth had noticed her piercing glare at the familiar address, but even she was not so ill-bred as to attempt a reprimand.

“Why, Miss Eliza’s sisters are all of quite different temperaments.”

“That is not unusual, Miss Bingley—even for sisters,” said Elizabeth, ensuring the woman heard her reproving tone.

It did nothing to prevent Miss Bingley’s attacks. “I recall your sisters’ interest in the officers of the nearby regiment. Tell me, has one of them caught a handsome officer yet, or do they still content themselves with bestowing their attentions indiscriminately?”

“Not at all, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth coolly, unsurprised by Miss Bingley’s audacity. “The regiment has departed for their summer camp in Brighton.”

“Oh, that is such a tragedy, Miss Eliza,” said Miss Bingley, her tone dripping with false pity. “That must explain why you were willing to quit Hertfordshire for a time, I suppose.”

The movement was so subtle that Elizabeth almost missed it, but Mrs. Hurst moved her foot just enough to nudge her sister’s. Though Elizabeth knew that Miss Bingley was the leader between them—much like the younger Lydia dominated the elder Kitty—she subsided, waiting for Elizabeth’s response. Her insolent glare never wavered.

“That is not an accurate portrayal at all,” replied Elizabeth, keeping her tone even, her gaze fixed on Miss Bingley. “I cannot think anyone would object to the opportunity to become acquainted with new and interesting people, but that was only the novelty of the first few weeks. For my part, I have never found a red coat compelling.”

“But your sisters do,” insisted Miss Bingley.

“Perhaps, Miss Bingley. But Kitty and Lydia are young and still learning how to conduct themselves in society. They have allowed the officers to depart with tolerable equanimity.”

That Lydia had gone to Brighton at Mrs. Forster’s invitation was a fact that Miss Bingley did not need to know—Elizabeth had no intention of giving her further fodder for her attacks. While Elizabeth expected her to remain belligerent, Miss Bingley caught her sister’s eye and subsided.

Thereafter, Elizabeth turned to Georgiana and began to discuss her love of music, while Mrs. Hurst and Mrs. Gardiner engaged in a somewhat desultory conversation, sustained by her aunt’s good manners and Mrs. Hurst’s surprising civility—it was better than Elizabeth had expected of her, to own the truth.

Miss Bingley, however, said little. Elizabeth did not suppose she was content with the points she had tried to make, but for the moment she opted for a sort of watchful silence, no doubt hoping to pounce on some comment of Elizabeth’s and turn it against her. Confident in her ability to avoid such traps, soon she turned her full attention to Georgiana, caring little for whatever Miss Bingley said. There were few better ways to endure Miss Bingley than to ignore her.

WITHIN A FEW MINUTES of joining Mr. Darcy and his friends, Edward Gardiner had taken their measure. Mr. Darcy’s two guests were not difficult to understand. Bingley was a jovial man, one who appeared content in almost any circumstance, to whom conversation came with little apparent effort. By contrast, Mr. Hurst was gruff, little disposed to conversation, though Gardiner sensed no disdain for a man engaged, after all, in the much-despised world of trade.

Darcy, however, was far more complex than either of his guests. What Elizabeth had termed pride was not pride alone, though Gardiner was certain Darcy had his share of it. No, Gardiner suspected there was more to Darcy than he displayed to casual acquaintances. Given his position in society, Gardiner could forgive him for whatever satisfaction he took in his property and connections. Since they had come across him, Darcy had been nothing less than welcoming, pleasant, and interested to know him better. It took no great insight to divine the reason for his interest.

“Thank you for the invitation, Darcy,” said Gardiner not long after they took up position at the side of the stream. “Living in London affords me little chance to fish.”

“It is an excellent sport,” rumbled Hurst. “I enjoy shooting, but fishing requires little but patience.”

“A perfect activity for you, Hurst,” said Bingley, a hint of teasing in his voice.

Hurst grunted a laugh, but did not protest.

“To own the truth,” said Gardiner, “I whiled away many an hour when I was a boy resting next to the stream with a rod in my hands.”

“Were you sleeping or fishing?” asked Darcy.

“It depended on whether the fish were biting,” replied Gardiner with aplomb.

“Aye, that is the truth,” said Darcy. “I recall many such afternoons when I was a lad.”

Darcy fell silent, staring into the distance, appearing contemplative. Gardiner followed his gaze, seeing only the landscape where Darcy appeared to see something more. The woods of Pemberley were among its many treasures, the park in which they stood remaining in its natural state rather than the sculptured lawns and gardens so often seen at most estates.

“Tell me, Mr. Gardiner,” said Bingley, “what line of business are you in?”