Bingley said, “Hear, hear! Darcy is perfect. That is to say, he is very tall, very rich, and very clever. And he loves his own child. An astonishing thing seldom seen in the dissolute ranks of society.”
“Do not laugh at me, Charles,” Miss Bingley replied. “I am wholly serious.”
To Darcy’s mild displeasure, Miss Bingley had not at all been dissuaded from her scheme to become his second wife by his insistence that he would not marry again.
When they arrived at Lucas Lodge, unfashionably early, not much after the announced time the party was to start, Darcy let the others exit the carriage first, before he stepped down with his long legs, and gave Emily a hand so that she could first jump down the big ledge between the door and the first step, and then carefully go down the next two steps.
They had come early, as Darcy did not expect to stay at the party late. Emily might fall asleep in as little as another two hours.
Once she’d achieved the ground, Emily turned around and immediately tried to lift her leg to a sufficient height so she could climb back onto the carriage’s stairs. After a minute of making these serious attempts, Darcy picked her up and laughingly tossed her in the air, ignoring her screech as he interfered with her efforts. Emily always became horribly offended if he simply picked her up when there was a set of stairs to practice her climbing upon.
The child had a further opportunity for her practice at climbing stairs, as there were three small steps in between the carriage way and the main door. Holding Darcy’s hand, she climbed up them and turned around three times.
It was with far more impatience than usual that Darcy waited for his daughter to get bored with the exercise. He hoped to continue his acquaintance with that odd girl who he’d had that odd conversation with.
His conversation with Miss Bennet had been quite embarrassing, but also, he had been more diverted and fascinated than he could remember being upon making a new acquaintance for a long time.
And she was a pretty girl.
That should have no influence upon him, as he would not marry again. But Darcy could not help but think it was still a little preferable for his partner in a conversation to be attractive.
Upon coming up to the door, still holding Emily’s hand, as she did not wish to be picked up, Darcy was greeted effusively by the beaming, balding proprietor of the estate. “Capital! Capital! Mr. Darcy, delighted. Delighted to see you here.” He rubbed his hands. “And what a fine little miss.”
Emily immediately hid behind Darcy’s leg.
“Still a shy one, is she not?” Sir William shook Mr. Darcy’s hand. “A fine looking girl. A credit to you sir. A credit.”
Darcy nodded his head politely to acknowledge the kindness of Sir William’s statement.
He followed their host into the house, picking up Emily as he went, and holding her, since he thought she’d prefer any introductions to be done that way.
After being introduced to Lady Lucas and the children of the house, and the other guest who'd already arrived, though Darcy forgot their name almost as soon as he’d been told it, he immediately started looking around.
The room felt emptier than he’d expected.
It was because that girl, Miss Bennet, was not yet present.
He’d be disappointed all night if she did not attend. Darcy spoke casually with the other gentleman about the latest newsfrom the Peninsula, the present price of government bonds, and which breeds of horses and hounds were best for fox hunting, and whether Derbyshire’s hillier terrain made any difference in which horses were best for a hunt.
Ordinary, dull, conversation.
Emily squirmed after five minutes to be let down, and Darcy set her on the ground, and she ran with a small shriek to a large sofa and began a close examination of the tassels hanging off the upholstery.
Darcy’s firm view was that if a gentleman did not like to have Darcy’s child running about and making noise, they should not invite Darcy to attend upon them. Sir William had an amused expression when he watched Emily, rather than the sort of offense at his daring to bring a child into the drawing room that he’d seen from some persons.
It reminded him that he ought to think a little nicer of Bingley’s neighbours. Anne had always been delighted when they socialized with the lesser gentry. It had been a reaction to the strictness with which Lady Catherine had always raised her and controlled her behaviour. Too much manners, she’d always said, could be as bad as too little. Darcy had that little burst of sadness he always did when he thought of Anne, and how she could not see what a wonderful creature Emily was.
Darcy maintained a constant observation of Emily, to minimize the chance that she would do any considerable damage to Sir William’s sofas, vases, or rugs.
After a minute of continued conversation, which Darcy only half attended — the virtues of regular application of bear’s grease for the prevention of baldness was fervently extolled by Sir William’s other guest, the one whose name Darcy remained in happy ignorance of — Darcy hurried to pick Emily up. “Do not putthatin your mouth, dear.”
She looked back at him, big wide eyes, the image of full and complete happy innocence, and then batted at his nose, giggling. “Oze.”
She had no clue what he had just said, but Darcy put her back down, while continuing to stand close, so that he could immediately stop her when she, inevitably, made a second attempt to consume the tassels.
Thankfully the conversation in which that other gentleman — Mr. Gould, Darcy suddenly remembered — strove to convince Sir William that his hairmightgrow back, a little at least, if he treated the head three times daily with bear’s grease, did not follow him to the sofa.
After a minute in which Darcy simply contemplated his girl, and the absurdity of male vanity, a soft female voice startled him. “Is this the little girl who you are so devoted to?”
