by Jane Grix
“And why is that?”
“It is so elegant and peaceful here.” At his look of inquiry, she explained further. “Do not misunderstand me. I love my home. Longbourn is not as grand as Netherfield, but it has its charms. But it is not peaceful. I suppose with five sisters living together, it is impossible for a home to be peaceful, but having spent the past day here, I don’t want to go home. For the first time in my life, I feel as if I can think my own thoughts.” It was the first time in her life she had spent a day away from Lydia.
He said, “You have little privacy at home?”
“Yes, that is the problem. My father can hide away and lock himself in his library, but the rest of us are forced to deal with each other.”
“Like hens in a hen house.”
She laughed. “I never thought of that, but it is true. And like one of our more ornery hens, I wish to escape. I suppose that is why I enjoy walking out of doors so much.”
“Like your walk to Netherfield yesterday morning.”
“Yes.”
He did not comment for a moment and she wondered if their conversation was over, but then he volunteered, “At Pemberley, I have several walking paths. The one that circles the park is more than ten miles in circumference.”
Elizabeth wondered why he offered that information. Was he suggesting that she might visit Pemberley one day or was he merely stating a fact?
She asked, “Do you walk it often?
“Not as often as I should. When I wish to escape, I go riding.”
That made sense. She said, “I am not a horse woman.”
He looked at her, surprised. “You don’t ride at all?”
“No. Everyone else in my family does, but horses–” She hesitated before finishing the sentence. “Frighten me,” she blurted out. “There I have said it, and now you may despise me if you wish.” She raised her chin defiantly, wondering what he would say.
“I do not despise you.”
There was a softness in his eyes when he looked at her that made her uncomfortable. She made a point of looking out the window again instead of at him.
He said, “My sister Georgiana also did not like to ride. She was afraid of falling. But I insisted that she take more lessons, and now, she is completely comfortable.”
Elizabeth supposed he was right and that further lessons might help her, but she said only, “How old is your sister?”
“She is sixteen years old. Since the death of my parents, I am her guardian as well as her brother.”
Elizabeth had never thought of Darcy acting in a parental role. From his comment, he seemed to take his duty seriously. “Ah. She is a little younger than my sister Kitty. Is she out?”
There was a brief expression in his eyes that she could not decipher. He said, “No. She is still young to be mixing in company. She is currently attending school in London.”
“Does she like it?”
“I believe so. Did you ever attend school, Miss Bennet?”
“No. I was educated at home – some by my mother and more by my father.”
“Is your father a scholarly man?”
“No, but he is definitely bookish. He reads primarily for enjoyment.”
Darcy said, “I believe that is the mark of a gentleman – one who can read for pleasure.”
“One who can read or one who does read?”
He smiled. “You have caught me out, Miss Bennet. Obviously the later. As you’ve no doubt seen, many men can read but do not take the effort to expand their education.”
Elizabeth thought no one would say that of Mr. Darcy. He appeared to be a man of information. She was about to comment, when Miss Bingley interrupted them.
“Miss Eliza!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing in the library?”
“I came for a book,” Elizabeth said and held up her volume of poetry.
“And Mr. Darcy?”
“I as well,” he said smoothly.
Miss Bingley looked between the two of them as if trying to discern the depth and nature of their chance meeting. “Well,” she said finally, “Louisa and I wished to take a walk and wondered if you would like to join us.”
Elizabeth did not want to appear rude, so she accepted the invitation. “Yes, I would enjoy that. You have lovely gardens here.”
“And you, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley prompted. “The path is not wide enough for four, but we can easily walk in pairs.”
Darcy looked as if that prospect did not agree with him. He said, “Perhaps another day. I will seek out your brother instead.”
AS DARCY WALKED AWAY from the library, he decided that he should not allow himself to speak at length with Elizabeth Bennet. She was too great a temptation. If he were not careful, he might find himself falling in love with her, and that would be most unacceptable.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jane coughed and blew her nose. “I think I am feeling a little better,” she said hopefully.
“You look a little better,” Elizabeth agreed. “Your nose isn’t quite as red as it was before.”
Jane groaned and fell back in the bed. She covered her face with her hands, making Elizabeth laugh.
“You are still beautiful, whether you are ill or well. It is most unfair,” Elizabeth teased.
“Now you sound like our mother,” Jane accused. Mrs. Bennet often praised Jane, calling her the beauty of the family.
“No, I speak the complete truth.”
Jane coughed again and propped herself up on one hand. “Well, at least it is only Mr. Bingley’s sisters who come to visit. At least Mr. Bingley has not seen me.”
Elizabeth smiled, “Yes, for it would be most improper for him to see you while you are in a bedroom, no matter how well you are bundled up. However, I have seen him loiter in the hallways nearby, hoping to hear more of how you are faring.”
Jane brightened. “Truly?”
“Truly. He asks about you ten or more times every day.”
Jane smiled. She said, “And what about you? How do you feel spending so much time with Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst and Mr. Darcy?”
Jane knew that she didn’t particularly like any of those people. Elizabeth said, “Mr. Bingley’s sisters are as I expected, but Mr. Darcy is proving to be a surprise.”
“In what way?”
Elizabeth thought of their conversation in the library. “I find that I might not dislike him as much as I did before. He improves upon acquaintance.”
“That is good to hear,” Jane said. “I feel sure he must be a good man if he is close friends with Mr. Bingley.”
Elizabeth did not share her sister’s trust in Bingley’s judgment. She thought it more likely that Darcy controlled their friendship with Bingley being a willing lackey. She said, “It does not matter, for it is unlikely that Mr. Darcy will stay in Hertfordshire long. He has his own property and obligations.”
Jane said, “I hope Mr. Bingley stays for a while.”
Elizabeth smiled. Jane would not admit directly that she was falling in love with Mr. Bingley, but it was clear to Elizabeth that she was beginning to care for him.
In another day Jane was feeling good enough to join the rest of the party after dinner. Mr. Bingley paid special attention to her, making certain the fire was piled sufficiently high and arranging her chair on the other side of the fireplace so she could not feel a draft from the door. Bingley then sat down beside her and talked scarcely to anyone else.
When tea was over, Mr. Hurst suggested playing cards, but Miss Bingley declined. Elizabeth busied herself with another book and Mr. Darcy wrote a letter to his sister. Miss Bingley hovered nearby, pestering him with comments and questions. She complimented him on the speed of his writing and his penmanship. She offered to mend his pen, which he declined. Twice she asked him to tell his sister that she longed to see her.
Elizabeth watched their interaction with amusement. Caroline Bingley was doing everything in her power to make Darcy notice her and yet she could not see that her efforts were not appreciat
ed.
Elizabeth noticed how Darcy’s jaw tightened with irritation when Miss Bingley spoke, although when necessary, he answered her with cool politeness.
It occurred to Elizabeth that as a gentleman of means, he must have to discourage many young women who set their caps at him. How tiring that must be.
But then again, as a man, he could go wherever he pleased whenever he pleased. He could always retreat to Pemberley.
Miss Bingley, tired of trying to engage Darcy’s attention, suddenly got up and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well, but Elizabeth was amused to see that Darcy ignored her. Miss Bingley turned to Elizabeth and said, “Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example and take a turn about the room. It is most refreshing.”
Elizabeth said, “Thank you for the offer, but I am happy with my book.”
Miss Bingley frowned and then walked over to the pianoforte to play some Italian songs in an emphatic manner, which woke Mr. Hurst. “What? What?” he said abruptly, sitting up straight. “I must have fallen asleep.”
Mrs. Hurst said, “Shh, Caroline is playing.”
“I can see that,” he said irritably. “I’m not deaf.”
Bingley and Jane continued to whisper among themselves.
After a few minutes, Darcy finished his letter and walked over to where Elizabeth was seated. He idly looked at some of the books on the table beside her but eventually chose none and sat in a chair beside her. Miss Bingley looked up from her instrument, annoyed by the present seating arrangement, but she continued to play.
Elizabeth tried to focus on her book, but she could not. She looked at Mr. Darcy and said quietly, “I begin to see the advantage of playing cards.”
He smiled. “Yes, it gives people something to do when they have little in common.”
“Are many evenings at Netherfield like tonight?”
“Yes.” He looked at her. “How do you spend your evenings at Longbourn?”
Elizabeth said, “Often one of us will read aloud while the rest of us sew. We are a house of women and there is always something to mend or hem.”
“At least that is a useful activity. What of your father?”
“He sometimes plays backgammon or chess.”
Darcy said, “Do you play chess?”
“Yes.”
He said, “Would you play a game with me?”
“I will gladly, if you can find a board.”
Darcy went over to Bingley to talk to him and Miss Bingley, having finished her song, asked Elizabeth if she would play a song as well.
“Perhaps later,” she agreed. “After Mr. Darcy and I play a game of chess.”
Miss Bingley looked at her sourly and said, “Very well.” She then began another song, a Scottish air this time.
A footman procured the necessary board and pieces and within a few minutes, Elizabeth was seated at a small table across from Mr. Darcy. They played in silence for a while. Darcy drew in his breath when Elizabeth took one of his bishops. “I did not expect that.”
Elizabeth smiled. “That was my aim.”
“Obviously.” He looked at her closely. “There is more to you than meets the eye, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Elizabeth sensed that there was more to him as well. She said archly, “Did you expect me to be a poor player?”
“Not exactly.”
“But you thought you would be the better player.”
He looked slightly uncomfortable, then sighed and said, “I have never met a young woman like you.”
She was intrigued. “In what way am I unique?”
He moved one of his pawns forward and for a moment, she thought he would not answer, but then he said, “You delight in provoking me to say something that will make me appear to a disadvantage.”
She smiled. “Of course. You said once that you always mean what you say. I am merely determining the parameters of your honesty.”
“And you said that truth must be tempered with tact, so I will be quiet now.”
Touché, Elizabeth thought.
After this, they played for nearly an hour in silence. Miss Bingley at one point came by and said, “I would love to learn how to play chess,” but neither of them commented and she walked back over to where her sister sat playing with her bracelets.
At the end of the game, Darcy said “checkmate” and Elizabeth set her king on its side.
“Well played,” she said as she scooted her chair back and rose to her feet. “Thank you for not letting me win.”
He put the chess pieces back in their decorative box. He said, “Did you think I would?”
She considered the matter. “I wasn’t certain if you would consider playing at less than your best to be chivalrous.”
“If you were my sister, I might,” he admitted.
“Does your sister play chess?”
“Not yet. But if I did teach her, I would want her to enjoy the game and not be discouraged by a quick loss.”
“That seems reasonable.”
“But I thought that you would prefer an honourable defeat over a false win.”
Elizabeth raised her chin. “That is correct.”
Bingley, walking by them, said bluntly, “Darcy doesn’t like to lose.”
“Does anyone?” Elizabeth asked.
AFTER JANE AND ELIZABETH retired upstairs, Miss Bingley said, “I never realized that my education was lacking.”
“Whatever do you mean, Caroline?” Bingley asked. “You and Louisa spent years at one of the best schools. You know French and Italian and more history than I.”
“I see I should have studied chess as well.”
“It is not hard to learn the basic moves,” Bingley said.
“Perhaps you could teach me, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley asked pointedly.
“It is too late tonight,” he said politely. “Perhaps another day.”
“Thank you.” When Bingley was across the room, she added in a quiet voice. “I could not help but notice how you were fascinated by Miss Elizabeth Bennet tonight.”
Darcy said only, “I admire her fine mind.”
“Is that all?”
Darcy’s irritation grew. “No, I also admire her fine eyes.”
“Fine eyes? I am all astonishment,” she said. “I did not realize she had become such a favourite of yours. And pray when am I to wish you joy?”
Darcy knew that she was teasing him, but he did not want to join in her humour. “You presume too much,” he said stiffly. “A man can admire a woman’s eyes without wanting to marry her.”
Miss Bingley smirked as if she had won a match.
Bingley not catching all of their conversation, said, “I agree. Miss Elizabeth does have pretty eyes. I prefer the colour of her sister’s eyes, though. Miss Bennet has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
CHAPTER SIX
That night as Elizabeth braided Jane’s long blonde hair, Jane asked, “Did you enjoy playing chess with Mr. Darcy?”
“I did. He was a worthy opponent.”
“He seemed more convivial tonight.”
He did, but Elizabeth did not want to talk about him. Instead she asked, “What of Mr. Bingley?”
Jane said slyly, “He is always convivial.”
“That’s not what I meant. You and he spoke quite a bit tonight. What did you talk about?”
Jane sighed happily. “We talked about my health, of course, and the weather. But then he asked more about our family and I learned about his. His mother died when he was eleven and his father died two years ago. He is closest to an uncle in Somerset.”
Elizabeth nodded. Talking about family was good because he might be thinking of adding Jane to his family. “What else?”
“He talked about his favourite dogs and asked me if I approved of Netherfield.”
“Approved? Did he say approved?”
Jane blushed. “I think so.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him it was a
lovely house. Then we talked about curtains and carpets. He said he wished his library was larger and we talked about books.” Jane smiled. “He has read everything by Mrs. Radcliffe.”
“Well,” Elizabeth said, “If I did not like him before, I would definitely like him now.”
“I like him,” Jane said quietly. “Very much.”
“I knew it,” Elizabeth cried and hugged Jane until she coughed. Then they both looked at each other and laughed.
“I think perhaps Mama was wise after all,” Elizabeth said. “As much as you have not enjoyed being ill, it has given you and Mr. Bingley an opportunity to get to know each other better.”
Jane said, “I think I am well enough to go home now.”
“I agree. Although I am enjoying the respite, I don’t want to stay past our welcome. And by that, I mean Miss Bingley’s welcome. I don’t think Mr. Bingley would mind if you decided to stay a month.”
Jane blushed.
Elizabeth continued, “So tomorrow morning, I will write to Mama and ask for the carriage to be sent for us.”
“I think that is best,” Jane agreed.
In the morning, however, Mrs. Bennet wrote that the carriage was not available – they could not possibly have it before Tuesday.
“Tuesday?” Jane said. “That would make it a week.”
Elizabeth let her breath out slowly. “She also states in the postscript that if Mr. Bingley and his sister press us to stay longer, she can spare us.”
Jane said, “What should we do?”
Elizabeth said, “We must see if we can borrow Mr. Bingley’s carriage.”
The request was made at breakfast and Mr. Bingley was concerned that it might be too soon for Jane to travel until she was completely recovered. More conversation followed, and in the end, it was decided that they would spend another full day at Netherfield and return to Longbourn after church services on Sunday.
Elizabeth was happy. She was not in a hurry to return home. In truth, the hours of quiet, without Lydia, had been restorative. She felt a renewed sense of contentment with a hope for the future.