Page 81 of A Prudent Engagement

Rather more eagerness than was congenial to either Elizabeth or Darcy.

For the first minutes of the walk Lydia and Kitty stayed with Elizabeth and Darcy, and Lydia said as soon as they had stepped out of Longbourn’s little wilderness and onto the road, “Is Mama right that you will not jilt Elizabeth in the end and that we shall not be poor?”

“Lydia!”

Elizabeth flushed and looked at Darcy’s expression.

It was genial.

“I hope,” he said, “to arrange such matters first with your sister and only then to inform others.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Lydia said, “You mean you did not settle everything while you spent all that time talking privately and looking at each other with sheep’s eyes by the window?”

“I certainly did not,” Elizabeth said.

“Baaaaaa. You certainly did,” Lydia replied. “And is it really true that Wickham gambled away three thousand pounds? That is terribly romantic, is it not?”

“And terribly imprudent,” Elizabeth said, becoming more certain by the second that any hope she might have had with Darcy would be destroyed by a revulsion created by her sister’s open expression of such views.

But Darcy grinned. “Wickham is a very handsome man. I do think, though, that any woman who has an interest in her future well-being ought to avoid him.”

“You are perfectly dull,” Lydia replied.

“If one is to do a thing, one ought to do it properly,” Darcy countered.

There was a long pause before Lydia understood what Darcy had said, and then she dissolved into giggles.

A little after that, Lydia and Kitty saw Maria Lucas, and they ran off to join her, finally leaving Elizabeth and Darcy to follow Jane and Mr. Bingley at a distance of many paces.

Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm, and they walked together in silence for some minutes.

He then said, “Do you think your sister is still in love with Mr. Bingley?”

Elizabeth studied the couple walking ahead of them. “She will assert that her feelings have wholly passed, but I do not think that to be the truth.”

“Nor I. Not after how she described the matter—she suffered greatly, did she not?”

This made Elizabeth see again the bitterness that had come out of Jane after their papa had died—chiefly her grief had been for their father, but the loss of Mr. Bingley had left her in such a state that it had struck her differently from how it would have before.

“Her spirits have been lower than usual since he left. But she never wished to be seen to suffer. I wonder if she in part spoke to you the way that she did out of some of that tortured sentiment which she had always repressed and hidden away. But the pain was there, and when Papa died it became impossible for her to hide it any longer from herself or the rest of us.”

Darcy nodded. “Though I respect her greatly, it was clear that Miss Bennet was motivated by feelings besides her determination to tell the truth as she saw it—though I credit her with that having been her chief motive.”

“I accused her of being jealous,” Elizabeth said mournfully. “Of wishing for me to be unhappy since she was. It was unkind of me to say that.”

“I can never have a right to judge her,” Darcy replied, “since I was a principal cause of the unhappiness she has suffered.”

Elizabeth felt a little surprised at hearing him say this but not shocked. She observed his face closely as they continued to walk arm in arm.

“I had no notion until the time of the Netherfield ball that Bingley had any serious intentions towards Miss Bennet,” Darcy said slowly. “But when a comment from Sir William revealed the general expectation that they would make a match of it, I observed the two closely. Even now, knowing Miss Bennet far better, it is difficult to tell how deeply her feelings run. I was convinced that she had no sentiments towards Bingley and that she only tolerated his attentions out of respect for your mother’s preferences. I therefore followed my friend to London and with some difficulty convinced him that Miss Bennet was indifferent to him and that he would do her a great kindness if he did not return.”

Elizabeth laughed.

Seeing from his expression that Darcy was surprised by this response, Elizabeth said, smiling, “It is only that I feel there is some similarity to our own situation—an irony that amused me.”

Darcy’s eyes brightened. He made her stop but kept her hand on his arm, covering it with his own. Elizabeth could feel the warmth of his body radiating to her. He spoke in an intent voice, “You think that? That my departure was not a great kindness?”

A frisson of heat and awareness went through Elizabeth at the way he looked at her.