Page 28 of A Prudent Engagement

Elizabeth was perfect.

Darcy found in himself no ability to judge Elizabeth upon any matter. But she was connected to her family, and of course her sister still hoped to catch Bingley, and she of course hoped to use Darcy’s connection to Bingley to draw a second wealthy man into their web.

Sitting somewhat taller in his corner of the carriage, Darcy said firmly, “I do not intend to impose upon my friend in this matter—or any other. Whether he is currently present in town or not is of no moment. I shall take rooms at the inn in Meryton, which seems to be a decent place, for however long I remain in the neighbourhood.”

“I see,” Miss Bennet replied in a tone that suggested that she did see.

Elizabeth looked between them, her forehead creased.

Darcy was determined on this point.

He would do nothing that might put Miss Bennet and Bingley in the same room until he was reasonably confident that his friend had wholly forgotten Elizabeth’s sister.

Once again, the conversation died away, but Darcy was not dissatisfied with that. They were near to Meryton, and he had enjoyed his discussion with Elizabeth greatly, but sensible people could spend some time happily together without an excess of chattering.

Chapter Six

As the carriage entered her neighbourhood, Elizabeth could not help a wave of dissatisfaction as she observed Mr. Darcy’s tall form from the corner of her eye.

Their knees brushed again, once more sending a thrill up Elizabeth’s spine.

Why had he needed to say it that way?

The way that he had told Jane that he would not be staying at Netherfield—the way that he had refused to answer at all the question of whether Mr. Bingley even was in London—he despised them all.

Or at least that was how it felt. But also...that was not all.

She wanted to challenge him, to demand that he explain himself, and to see whether he could indeed do so sufficiently.

She did not because she was frightened that if she showed herself in that way, as a termagant and a shrew, as a woman who demanded her own way and who considered herself as having the right to question a man’s judgment and preferences, she would scare him away.

And then they would all be poor. She had to accept him, no matter how superior he thought himself.

But worse, if she said something that made him leave, she would never see him again.

Elizabeth was filled with a growing anxiety, a sense of dread and wrongness as the carriage at last trundled through Meryton and turned down the lane towards Longbourn.

Papa’s body is here.

And Mama.

Mama must despise me.

Her mother did not understand that she would not be selfish in the end. After she had accepted Mr. Darcy, her mama would think that she was her clever girl and that she had been the best of daughters, better even than Jane. After all, Jane had not caught Mr. Bingley, while Elizabeth had caught Mr. Darcy.

She imagined her mother’s voice: “Lord! Ten thousand a year! My clever, clever girl!”

But right now, her mama hated her. She was the one who had given Longbourn to the Lucases.

They stopped first at Lucas Lodge, as Charlotte had suggested that it would be easiest for all if they first shared their grief without her presence.

This was kind of Elizabeth’s friend. She knew that it was chiefly Mrs. Bennet who would be enraged to see the woman who would replace her as the mistress of Longbourn.

However, Charlotte’s kindness only filled Elizabeth with a sense of her own awfulness as a daughter.

Her mother would hate her.

Rightly.