“Why would an earl come to Hertfordshire?” Mary asked.
“He is a cousin to Miss de Bourgh and Mr. Darcy, and brother to Colonel Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he accompany them?”
“Did he dance with you at the party, Elizabeth?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
“Once, as did Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“And Mr. Bingley?”
“No.” Elizabeth hadn’t made any mention of Mr. Bingley’s merry widow in her letter.
“I bet Mr. Darcy didn’t dance with anyone.” Lydia accompanied her statement with a grimace.
“Did he dance with anyone, Elizabeth?” Mary asked.
“He danced with me, and with Jane. All three gentlemen were very attentive and danced with both of us and Miss de Bourgh.” Elizabeth was beginning to wish she’d included more such details in her letter, for it might have resulted in fewer question now.
“Of course they danced with Miss de Bourgh. She’s an heiress,” Mrs. Bennet said. “And now she has a houseful of eligible men all to herself, as if an heiress needs any luck finding a husband.”
“Miss Bingley is also at Netherfield,” Elizabeth reminded her.
“Why didn’t Mr. Bingley dance with any of you if he was at the party?” Lydia asked. “That hardly seems like him.”
“He departed before we began dancing.” At least, before Elizabeth and Miss de Bourgh had moved to the room where the dancing took place. Jane and Colonel Fitzwilliam were already there.
“Left? A party?” Mrs. Bennet frowned. “Was he unwell?”
“I did not ask.” Elizabeth endeavored to sound indifferent, though she was anything but. She was very suspicious of Mr. Bingley’s motives. He’d disappeared with his widow, then reappeared to invite them all to leave London, and then quit the party. If Elizabeth were being uncharitable in her thoughts, she’d suspect he’d availed himself of what he was angling for from Mrs. Kent and then proceeded to cut her acquaintance.
“Imagine, though, Jane and Lizzy danced with a colonel and an earl.” Lydia’s voice was dreamy again.
“It means nothing if we cannot persuade them to call here.” Mrs. Bennet cast a glare at Mr. Bennet, who ignored her.
“I’m sure they will visit us,” Elizabeth said. Her mother’s eyes on her, Elizabeth sought to reassure without admitting to Mr. Darcy’s pretend courtship. She was too fatigued from her journey to endure the histrionics it would invoke. “Miss de Bourgh stayed with the Gardiners and will surely want to visit us here.”
“Who cares if Miss de Bourgh visits? What is she to us? We don’t need an heiress attracting all the eligible men.”
Her mother carried on in that theme for some time, until she drove both Elizabeth and her father from the parlor. As she hurried away, seeking the quiet of the room she and Jane shared, Elizabeth smiled. It was nice to be home, even if her mother’s rant about Miss de Bourgh having all of the money and access to all of the available gentlemen followed her down the hall.
The next day, the four gentlemen in question did call, the attractions of Miss de Bourgh apparently not enough to keep them at Netherfield Park. A carriage brought Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, Colonel Fitzwilliam and the Earl of Matlock to Longbourn. With four eligible men in the house, Elizabeth watched with amusement as her mother attempted to sort out which one she should work the hardest to please, although clearly Mr. Darcy was last on the list.
Jane met Mr. Bingley with calm courtesy. Elizabeth was proud of her sister. Jane’s greeting didn’t show any anger over his desertion, nor did she act in any way like she was trying to attract him. She welcomed him as one would an old friend, but not as someone she was in love with.
Mr. Darcy sat next to Elizabeth, as if by chance. They exchanged a few words while her mother sent for refreshments, but soon fell silent. It amused Elizabeth to note Mr. Darcy appeared as interesting in watching the others as she was.
The seating had broken the party into small groups, there being far too many people for one conversation. Lydia and Kitty vied for Colonel Fitzwilliam’s attention, though Elizabeth noticed his eyes straying to Jane at regular intervals. With a little maneuvering on Mrs. Bennet’s part, Mr. Bingley ended up sitting between Jane and Mary. Jane spoke to him pleasantly, but diligently drew Mary into the conversation.
The Earl of Matlock, somewhat to Elizabeth’s surprise, took the seat beside her father. Their conversation appeared engaging, and she caught bits letting her know it centered around the doings of parliament. Even so, the earl glanced more than once at his younger brother. Her mother’s attention flitted from group to group. She routinely poked her nose into other people’s conversations, obviously believing she was assisting her daughters. Elizabeth was relieved her dislike of Mr. Darcy kept her away from him.
Once tea and sweets had been served and the others were occupied in their own conversations, Mr. Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “I’m relieved. After Richard’s description of what occurred at Lady Agatha’s, I didn’t know how your sister would behave when confronted with Bingley again.” His voice was pitched low.
Elizabeth replied in similar tones. “I’m impressed by her. At the party, and later at my aunt’s and uncle’s, she was a wreck, though your cousin did much to soothe her. He was very gallant.” She wondered if Mr. Darcy sensed anything between the two. She didn’t think Jane did yet, but would wager Colonel Fitzwilliam was already considering the idea. Elizabeth hoped he wouldn’t pursue it without good intentions. She recalled him telling her he hadn’t enough money to marry where he would, which ought to rule out Jane. Her sister should not be made to suffer another false courtship.
“She is very convincing,” Mr. Darcy said. “If I didn’t know to look, I wouldn’t see that she keeps her hands clasped, for when she separates them you can see that they tremble, and hasn’t touched a morsel of food.”
Elizabeth turned to him in surprise. She had only noticed one of those things, but then she still hadn’t managed a full night’s sleep since the incident in Kent. The lack was likely dulling her wits. She was pleased, however, to learn Mr. Darcy was endeavoring to be more observant of people. “I am impressed by you as well.”
He smiled. “Thank you. It’s recently come to my attention that I am too quick to judge people and seek too little information before I do so. I’m attempting to remedy that.”
“One must, of course, always pursue self-improvement.”
“Indeed. Even me.”
Elizabeth laughed. She hadn’t thought Mr. Darcy would joke at his own expense. Obviously, she was guilty of judging too quickly as well.
“I’m pleased we called today.” His voice was even lower than before. “I missed conversing with you.”
“We conversed yesterday in the carriage, the whole way from London.”
“Was it only yesterday? When I cannot be with you, time marches a cruel, slow pace.”
She laughed again. “Did you read that somewhere? It’s a bit dreadful. I don’t think anyone can hear us, you know. You needn’t say such silly things.”
“I enjoy saying them, though I obviously require practice.” He shrugged. “I’m not accustomed to courting. I’m fortunate you’ve given me time. I hope now that we’re in Hertfordshire, I may employ it better.”
“Better?” Elizabeth repeated, confused.
He held up a hand, ticking off on his fingers. “We rode together from Kent, in company. Richard and I dined with you at the Gardiner’s. We didn’t dine together at Lady Agatha’s, but did dance twice, and had another full carriage ride here. Unfortunately, in between the party and the journey here I was forced to see to my interests, having somewhat neglected them.”
He’d counted their dances on one finger. Elizabeth would have given each its own count, for Mr. Darcy was a splendid partner. Dancing with him, in that fine gown, had made her feel like a princess. “It seems to me we’ve seen a great deal of each other.”
“We were in London. Were I at all practiced, I should have taken you to t
he theater, or for a ride in the park, or some such thing.”
“Well, we’re in Hertfordshire now, so you may take me for a ride here, providing you have an open carriage. It would certainly cause appropriate gossip.”
“For a ride with you, I would commission one,” Mr. Darcy said, the smile he gave her warm. “Fortunately I don’t have to, since I’ve arranged for my curricle to be brought here. It should arrive later today.”
Elizabeth answered his smile with one of her own, but inside she was shaken for it had, in that moment, occurred to her that Mr. Darcy’s courtship might not be pretend at all. Lydia’s laughter rang across the room, louder even than usual. Elizabeth, relieved, took the excuse to turn away from Mr. Darcy’s penetrating gaze. She shook her head. “My hope for better manners seems to have gone unanswered.”
“She is young,” Mr. Darcy said, diplomatic once more.
Elizabeth couldn’t help but be amused by his new tactic. It appeared he meant to speak only the truth, just as before. He seemed to have decided, however, that he needn’t put forth every bit of it that came to his mind.
They talked a while longer, Elizabeth keeping the conversation to incidental things. It was no hardship, for Mr. Darcy was now an easy person for her to converse with, but she was still shaken by her suspicion about his courtship. Soon, too, she would have to field questions concerning it, for people would notice and word would get out, as it always did.
When, after the correct half an hour, the gentlemen left, Elizabeth was sorry to see Mr. Darcy go, but also relieved. She required time to think. If he was serious in his intentions, she must be prepared for the moment he would ask for her hand again. The trouble was, she was no longer sure which answer she wished to make ready. Her uncertainty confused her.
“Jane, how can you expect to attract Mr. Bingley if you keep bringing Mary into the conversation?” Mrs. Bennet’s querulous tone broke into Elizabeth’s musing. “And Mary, you should stay out of any conversation between Jane and Mr. Bingley.”
Mr. Bennet stood, leaving the room. Elizabeth cast a look across at Jane. She could tell from Jane’s face she wished she could escape as easily as their father. Elizabeth could sympathize, for she wished to avoid their mother’s inevitable dissection of the gentlemen’s call as well. Or, if there was no escape, she wished they could at least stuff their ears. In moments, Mrs. Bennet’s voice filled the parlor.
Chapter Fifteen
Darcy followed Bingley into the airy parlor they all seemed to favor, Henry and Richard behind them. Miss Bingley and Anne were there already, the former occupied at the corner desk and the latter with a book. Both set aside these diversions as the group of men entered, exchanging greetings. Soon, they were all seated on the loose circle of couches and chairs.
“How was your first visit to Longbourn, my lord?” Miss Bingley asked, focusing her attention on Henry, as she had been since they arrived. The arrangement suited Darcy. He was happy to let someone else fend off Bingley’s avaricious sister for once. “I see you survived your first encounter with Mrs. Bennet and those hoydens she’s raised.” She gave a dramatic shudder.
“Hoydens?” Henry chuckled. “They are a lively bunch, I’ll give you that, and what a bevy of beauties! Bingley, how did you tear yourself away from Hertfordshire?”
“It wasn’t easy.” Bingley appeared troubled. Darcy wondered if he was falling back in love with Miss Bennet after all. “I almost proposed to Miss Bennet.”
Henry nodded, as if he’d expected as much. “Even with so brief a meeting, I can see she is a nonpareil in both appearance and manners. Is she as sweet as she seems?”
“I thought so, but I’m not so sure now.” Bingley frowned, his brow creased in thought. “I thought she was in love with me when I left. She only had eyes for me then, but now . . . I don’t know, she was friendly, but she acted as if she didn’t care anymore. I didn’t think she was so shallow. I’m wondering if I completely misjudged her.”
“Mr. Bingley, excuse me for saying it, but you’re a fool.” Anne’s voice was sharp with anger.
Darcy turned to regard her in surprise, as did everyone else.
“I beg your pardon, Miss de Bourgh?” Bingley was clearly taken aback.
“Miss Bennet saw you at Lady Agatha’s party, with Mrs. Kent. She was devastated. The poor creature nearly fainted. You hurt her deeply. If you had seen her then, your ego would be satisfied that you broke her heart. You should be grateful she’s recovered enough to behave appropriately in company. In her place, I would be throwing things at you.”
Darcy rather thought Anne looked and sounded as if she might throw things at Bingley now, for Miss Bennet’s sake. He had noted Anne’s increased confidence around Elizabeth and Miss Bennet, and she’d presented herself well with the Gardiners. It wasn’t until this moment, though, that he realized her self-assurance extended to males she was not related to. It was good to see. Now, if only she could manage to stand up to her mother.
“Throwing things?” Bingley echoed, looking a bit dumbstruck.
Anne threw up her hands. “Richard?”
“I was with Miss Bennet at the time as well,” Richard said. “I removed her from the room out of sheer pity, although it is not a burden to comfort a sweet and beautiful woman.”
“So she was hurt?” Bingley asked.
“She was devastated. Does that make you happy?” Anne’s tone spoke clearly of what Bingley’s answer had best be.
Darcy took in the book in Anne’s lap. Her hands now rested atop it. He wondered, if Bingley said yes, if Anne really would throw it. He almost hoped Bingley would botch his answer. Anne throwing things would be diverting.
“No. I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Bingley looked around the room. Following his gaze, Darcy saw skeptical faces. “Really. I did seriously consider marrying her, but I had a right to change my mind. I never proposed. I never told her I loved her.”
“You most certainly had the right to change your mind,” Miss Bingley said. “It was a harmless flirtation. Even if one went so far as to label it a courtship, that, too, isn’t binding.” She shot a resentful look toward Darcy. “Courtships may be broken off, after all. They aren’t engagements.” She glared at him a moment more before turning back to her brother. “If Miss Bennet took your attentions too seriously, that is too bad, but it isn’t your fault. She is a sweet girl, and if weren’t for her awful family, she should make a good marriage, to someone of her own class.” She cast a glare over all four gentlemen, as if to remind them she spoke of all five Bennet daughters.
Silence descended on the room. Miss Bingley raised her chin a notch, her narrowed eyes once again on Darcy. It was clear Anne had begun spreading the rumor he was courting Elizabeth. She must have mentioned it to Miss Bingley while Darcy and the others were visiting Longbourn.
Darcy met Miss Bingley’s censuring with a calm façade, echoed by unruffled thoughts. He was already well acquainted with her opinion of the Bennets. Once, he’d shared it, but no longer. Regardless, he’d also decided the individual woman mattered more than her family and wealth. A lifetime of happiness was more important than catering to the expectations of the ton.
“Darcy, Bingley, who’s up for a game of billiards? Richard?” Henry stood as he spoke, prompting the others to as well. “Ladies?” He drew the word out.
“Definitely not,” Anne said. “I’m sure a billiards room is no place for us.”
Darcy took in the conflict on Miss Bingley’s face, amused. A billiards room was indeed no place for a lady. Miss Bingley was obviously torn between wishing to further her acquaintance with Henry and upholding the values she was always spouting.
“Thank you for the invitation, my lord, but I must return to my correspondences.” Miss Bingley made a vague gesture toward the writing desk.
“Until later, then,” Henry said, bowing.
Darcy, Bingley and Richard followed suit. With long strides, Henry lead them from the parlor and toward the billiards room. Darcy wasn’t
sure if they were retreating or regrouping, but he was pleased to leave Miss Bingley and her acid tongue behind.
Netherfield Park offered only one table, so they agreed to take turns playing the winner. The arrangement was least fair to Bingley, as he played the poorest, but he didn’t seem to mind. He and Richard elected to go first, leaving Darcy and Henry standing off to one side.
“I received an odd letter from Aunt Catherine,” Henry said as they watched Bingley miss another shot.
“Oh?”
“She claims you’re breaking off your engagement to Anne to pursue, in her words, a low country chit of no moral fiber. I assume she means Miss Elizabeth? Richard said you’re courting her, which you might have mentioned. I wouldn’t have flirted with her at Agatha’s had I known. I’m not a poacher, Darcy.”
Darcy smiled slightly, not sure he entirely believed Henry. Henry didn’t have a reputation for purloining other men’s women, but it was only a courtship. Henry loved a challenge and Elizabeth was certainly that. “I was never engaged to Anne, as you well know. Furthermore, I don’t want to marry her and she doesn’t want to marry me.”
“Yes, I do well know. I think Aunt Catherine’s assured herself of the engagement so often, she’s come to believe it. I’m glad Anne’s escaped from her for a time. Seems to be doing her good to see how the rest of the world lives. Lady Catherine is a little too certain her rank allows her to act as she pleases.”
Bingley looked up from another botched shot. “I should think you, of all people, would think that rank has real meaning.”
“It does. Several real meanings.” Henry said. “One of them is that when I beat someone at fencing, I’m never quite sure if I really won.”
“You don’t need to wonder on those rare occasions when you beat me,” Richard said, sighting up his next shot.
Henry nodded. “Right. Unless Darcy or Richard is fencing with me. They wouldn’t even let me win out of pity.”
Courting Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 15