Page 22 of To Win Her Affections

“Then that is good enough for me,” said Mr. Darcy with no hesitation. “When I return to Pemberley, I shall tell my friend what you have told me, and apologize for the part I played in it.”

Though Elizabeth nodded, her thoughts turned playful. “What do you suppose Mr. Bingley will do on the occasion? Will he mount his horse and ride for Hertfordshire at once?”

Mr. Darcy’s laughter was a balm to Elizabeth’s unsettled feelings. “Yes, I recall the conversation on the subject at Netherfield. Bingley can be impulsive, but I do not suppose he will act with such alacrity. After their stay at Pemberley, the family means to travel north to visit their relations near York. Bingley will not throw such plans over on a whim, even for your sister.”

“Then I am most disappointed in him,” jested Elizabeth. “It seems he will not leave without a second thought as he suggested at Netherfield.”

“No, he will not.” Mr. Darcy thought for a moment, then ventured: “That does not mean he will not make for Netherfield with all haste the moment he is at liberty to do so.”

“Thus is my faith restored,” said Elizabeth.

Laughing together felt freeing in a way Elizabeth had not thought possible. Only days before, the notion of laughing with this man would have seemed equally impossible. Then a thought occurred to Elizabeth, and she sobered.

“Are you certain that Mr. Bingley will not become angry with you?”

Mr. Darcy’s shrug appeared nonchalant, but Elizabeth caught a certain tension. “I do not believe he will, Miss Bennet. If he does, I am convinced his anger will be of short duration. And I will deserve it, will I not?”

Only a few weeks before, Elizabeth would have agreed without hesitation. Now, however, she thought she saw the situation through Mr. Darcy’s eyes, and the reason for his actions was not so simple as she might have thought.

“Were you not acting in what you thought were the best interests of your friend?”

“I thank you for that bit of flattery,” was Mr. Darcy’s wry reply.

“No, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth. “I shall tell you what I said to Miss Bingley: I speak only as I find.”

While he nodded, Mr. Darcy considered what she had said, and after a moment of this he exhaled deeply and nodded.

“There was some measure of concern for my friend. As I had misconstrued your sister’s reticence as indifference, I thought to protect my friend against a woman whose affection for him was not as deep as his own.”

Mr. Darcy then grimaced. “There was another motive of equal importance, though I was less willing to acknowledge it. There was a certain woman in Hertfordshire who intrigued me far more than I was willing to confess. Avoiding her was as much an incentive as protecting my friend.”

“For all the good that appears to have done you,” teased Elizabeth.

Mr. Darcy smiled, nodded, and sat back on the couch, complacent. Outside, Elizabeth could hear the bustle of the town, and feel the warmth of the bright sunshine through the windows. A glance at the clock informed her that Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had been gone for some time and would return before long.

“Now that I look back on it,” said Mr. Darcy, “it appears I never had a chance of resisting you.”

“You did not appear pleased to see me in Kent,” said Elizabeth, keeping her tone light.

“That is not it at all,” replied Mr. Darcy. “The truth is that I was shocked to find you there.”

“You had no notion of it?” asked Elizabeth, curious about his ignorance. “Did Lady Catherine not pontificate at great length about the unfashionable people staying with her parson?”

This time Mr. Darcy nearly snorted in disdain. “By suggesting that, you assume I am in the habit of corresponding with Lady Catherine. As much as I am able, I avoid it, for Lady Catherine’s letters almost always speak of my duty to Anne. Since that subject consumes her, she rarely writes about anything else.”

A shadow crossed Elizabeth’s heart. “I feel silly for even asking this, Mr. Darcy, but there is no validity to your aunt’s claim of an engagement?”

“None whatsoever,” said Mr. Darcy, not bothered in the slightest. Again the gentleman took her hand, squeezed it, then retreated as was proper. “Though Lady Catherine wishes she had a contract to wave in my face, my father declined to enter into one, and I have resisted every entreaty since I became my own man.”

“And her claims of your mother’s agreement?”

“Mean nothing,” averred Mr. Darcy. “Just as all your mother’s wishes did nothing to alter your response to Mr. Collins’s suit. Besides, I know nothing of my mother’s opinion on the matter, for she never spoke of it to my father or me.”

“Now you suggest that Lady Catherine is being untruthful!” exclaimed Elizabeth, feigning astonishment.

“Not at all,” replied Mr. Darcy, enjoying their banter. “In Lady Catherine’s mind it is settled, and I have no doubt she believes she received my mother’s consent. Whether she did or not is immaterial, especially given the number of years that have passed.”

Elizabeth nodded, though she sensed the potential for calamity. “I hope you will not blame me for supposing that Lady Catherine will not accept it quietly should you propose.”