“Ah.” Darcy kept his voice steady. “You refer to the ladies’ reception of your suit—for the property, that is.”
Bingley’s colour heightened slightly. “Lady Hartford has been reserved in her welcome. Polite, certainly, but I sense underlying reservations about my suitability as a neighbour. And perhaps more.”
“Merely as a neighbour?” Darcy asked. They had known one another only a brief time, but already he felt as though he understood Bingley. And he also understood that Bingley, despite his business acumen, needed guidance.
“You do understand me, do you not?” He smiled. “Yes, as more than a neighbour. Lady Jane has been kind and gracious,” Bingley said. “She possesses such gentle refinement, such natural elegance. I confess myself quite…” he trailed off, perhaps realising how transparent his admiration had become.
“Quite smitten?” Darcy suggested with a slight smile.
“Is it so obvious?” Bingley laughed, running a hand through his fair hair. “I had hoped to maintain some semblance of discretion.”
“About as much discretion as a peacock in full display,” Darcy replied. “I suspect the lady is not entirely unaware of your regard.”
“Well, I shall have to be on my guard at the ball. I do not wish to appear too eager. Not before I can secure a property and elevate myself.”
Darcy looked up. “A ball?”
“Indeed! Lord Hartford did not mention it? It will be next week. I suppose a steward has little to do with sucharrangements. In any case, I confess myself quite beside myself with anticipation.” Bingley’s face lit up with such obvious pleasure that Darcy could not help smiling. “And it will be a wonderful opportunity to dance with Lady Jane without drawing attention. I plan to dance with all the sisters, that ought to appease Lady Hartford. They are all quite charming and it will allow me to perhaps discover more about Lady Jane’s persuasion regarding my suit.”
“The sisters are indeed quite charming,” Darcy replied, his thoughts having slipped to Lady Elizabeth again.
“Ah, you noticed, old fellow?” Bingley leaned forward, abandoning all pretence of focusing on the books. “Pray, which sister particularly caught your attention? Lady Kitty perhaps? She certainly seems spirited enough.”
Darcy gulped down the lump that had formed in his throat. “I merely made a general observation.”
“Nonsense! No man speaks of sisters as ‘charming’ without having noticed at least one of them specifically.” Bingley’s eyes danced with mischief. “If not Kitty, then perhaps Lydia? She commands attention wherever she goes.”
“Both young ladies possess considerable energy,” Darcy said diplomatically.
“Energy, yes. But I think you prefer more substantial conversation, do you not?” Bingley studied him with the air of a man solving a puzzle. “I have it now. Lady Elizabeth.”
Darcy nearly knocked over his king. “What makes you say that?”
“Because you just confirmed it,” Bingley said triumphantly. “Lady Elizabeth Bennet—an interesting choiceindeed. She is known throughout the neighbourhood for her sharp tongue and ready wit. Some find it charming, others rather intimidating. And you looked quite comfortable walking together earlier.”
“I hardly know the lady well enough to form such judgements,” Darcy protested, though he could hear the weakness in his own voice. “As for our walk, I merely escorted her.”
“Ah yes, for the lands around Netherfield are known to be treacherous,” Bingley teased.
“Bingley, I shall not be teased. It is entirely inappropriate,” he said and rose. “In any case, I ought to return to the manor house. Lord Hartford will be expecting me.”
Bingley pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. “I have caught you, have I not? Do not be cross. I would not want our budding friendship to be interrupted due to my sometimes-questionable sense of humour. Of course you harbour no such thoughts of feelings.”
“I shall not be cross, do not fret. But I really must be going,” he said. “If you will excuse me.”
He made his way out of Longbourn then, though he had no meeting scheduled with Lord Hartford at all. The truth was, he was most uncomfortable with the conversation for he could not deny it—he found Lady Elizabeth rather charming indeed.
***
The walk back to the steward’s cottage did little to settle Darcy’s thoughts. Lady Elizabeth did intrigue him—her wit, her directness, the way she challenged his assumptions. But such thoughts were dangerous territory for a man in his position.
As he rounded the corner towards his cottage, Darcy stopped short. A familiar figure lounged against his doorframe, examining his fingernails with theatrical boredom. George Wickham looked up with a grin that hadn’t changed since their boyhood days at Pemberley.
“Well, well. The prodigal steward returns,” Wickham drawled, pushing himself off the doorframe with languid grace. “I was beginning to think you’d absconded with the rent money.”
“George.” Darcy greeted, though his pulse quickened with old wariness. “What brings you to Hertfordshire?”
“Can’t a man visit his old friend?” Wickham’s eyes danced with familiar mischief. “Though I know you are not truly a friend. Or a brother. More an interloper into my father’s affections.”
