“Mrs. Bingley appears to be everything a young man ought to be.”
“He is! And Mrs. Darcy is so good as to introduce him to you. I cannot but think he did so, knowing you might suit him, for Mrs. Darcy is such an excellent young man himself, always concerning himself for us.”
Mrs. Bennet paused and directed a darker look at Elizabeth. “Though I must say that I am a little vexed, Lizzy, for I know you made Mrs. Bingley’s acquaintance in the spring, yet it is January, and this is the first we have seen of him!”
“You cannot rush these things, Mama,” said Elizabeth, thinking it politic to avoid saying anything about the reservations that had nearly prevented the introduction.
“No, I suppose not,” said Mrs. Bennet. “It does not signify, I suppose, for Mrs. Darcy has proven me correct. I cannot be happier!”
Elizabeth shared a look with her elder sister but avoided releasing the mirth that had built up within her breast. Mrs. Bennet had long coveted the master of Netherfield for her daughters, but she had initially thought that triumph would belong to Jane. Disappointed though she had been when Mrs. Darcy had shown no interest at all in the eldest sister, her excitement had been the more powerful emotion when he had paid attention to Elizabeth. While Elizabeth had joined local society at sixteen and had known of Mrs. Darcy’s interest in her almost from the first, the initial steps they had taken to become acquainted had, by design, escaped her mother’s notice. It was not until Elizabeth turned eighteen that they allowed others to understand their preference for each other’s company.
Mrs. Bennet, the mother of five daughters living on an entailed estate, had existed in a state of almost constant panic, convinced that the heir—a distant cousin with whom they had no association—would throw them from the house the moment her husband died. That Mrs. Bennet had been convinced her husband would depart this life every day for the past fifteen years was a constant source of vexation for her daughters. When the wealthiest man in the district paid attention to Elizabeth, her mother had settled a little, knowing she would be secure, though she never lost her propensity for throwing her daughters at gentlemen, hoping they would marry early. Her comment about being proven correct was a reference to one night at Lucas Lodge when, having sampled too much punch, Mrs. Bennet had crowed to her cronies about her expectation that her future son-in-law would introduce her daughters to all his wealthy friends.
“You cannot rush affection, Mama,” said Jane, drawing Elizabeth from her thoughts. “Remember that I have only made Mrs. Bingley’s acquaintance today.”
“Oh, you may say that, Jane,” said Mrs. Bennet, her hands moving as if to dispel an offensive odor, “but I know how itwill be. Mark my words, my dear: there will be another wedding in Meryton not long after your sister’s, for I am certain Mrs. Bingley will wish to join Mrs. Darcy and enter the state of matrimony. And who could blame him, given the inducement?”
There was nothing to say about such exuberance, and both sisters knew their mother well enough to apprehend that it was pointless to try. Mrs. Bennet had the bit in her teeth, and Elizabeth knew from experience that she would not release it until she had her say. Mrs. Bennet was notcompletelymortifying in company, for she had settled somewhat with Elizabeth’s triumph. Her husband, knowing an unrestrained mother might be a detriment to Elizabeth in society, had taken her aside and explained a few matters to her, much to Elizabeth’s relief. While Mrs. Bennet would never be a proper woman, she at least knew when to be silent now.
After a time of extolling Mrs. Bingley’s virtues, Mrs. Bennet decided her nerves had suffered enough excitement for one day. She took herself above stairs to rest in her room, leaving her two daughters in the sitting-room together. Knowing what awaited, Elizabeth avoided the sight of her sister until she heard her mother’s tread on the stairs, breaking out into laughter thereafter.
“Mama is determined, I suppose,” said Elizabeth.
“That she is. I wish she would not speak of such subjects so openly, but at least she restrained herself when Mrs. Bingley was here.”
“I cannot agree more, Jane,” said Elizabeth. She shot a sly look at her sister and added: “William and I knew that Mrs. Bingley would like you very well, indeed. My betrothed informed me of his suspicion before I even made Mrs. Bingley’s acquaintance.”
“Your betrothed is more than a little full of himself,” said Jane. “It is, I believe, a trait common to those who consider themselves clever.”
Elizabeth could not help but laugh at Jane’s comment, which she knew her sister directed towardher,too. “Are you suggesting thatIam also proud?”
“How you interpret my comment is your business, Lizzy,” replied Jane.
Elizabeth grinned and put an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “You may be correct about William. Unfortunately for you, I like him very well the way he is.”
“That is no mystery, Lizzy,” replied Jane. “And I give you leave to like him, for I am not bereft of admiration for the gentleman myself.”
“Excellent,” said Elizabeth. “Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I shall take Mama’s example and sequester myself in my room for a time. I should like to rest.”
Jane rose along with Elizabeth. “You only wish to dream of Mrs. Darcy, Lizzy.”
“Perhaps I do,” said Elizabeth. “You can hardly blame me if that is my purpose.”
“No, I cannot, Lizzy,” said Jane, “for it has been clear to me since you were seventeen that you were meant for each other. I cannot be happier with your conquest, for I know how much you esteem him.”
“I do, Jane. And I am sensible of my good fortune.”
When Elizabeth lay down on her bed, she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts full of Mrs. Darcy. He was the best man of her acquaintance and her future husband. Elizabeth knew how fortunate she had been to find her path in life with so little difficulty, and she meant to make the most of every moment in his company.
Chapter II
Fitzwilliam Darcy had always known of his heritage, though it had never seemed important enough to pay much attention to it. The Darcys were an old and respected family from Derbyshire, their roots reaching back further than the time of William the Conqueror. The original Darcy landowner had performed a service for the crown and had received his land as a gift, holding it from that time forward through the rights of primogeniture, handed down from father to son, and not a few daughters whose husbands had taken on the Darcy name. From those humble beginnings, the family had taken that land and established the foundations of future wealth, expanding upon the original plot of land until it was now purported to be a grand estate.
Through his centuries of Darcy forebears, Darcy knew he had connections to the nobility, though they were distant enough to be of little use, not that Darcy concerned himself with such things. The current Darcy master of the ancestral estate, Darcy’s cousin—he had never been able to keep the exact nature of his connection straight—was the grandson of an earl, his mother being the Earl of Matlock’s daughter. Darcy’s connection to the main branch of the Darcy family was more distant than that, meaning he possessed no direct connection to the earl himself, though he supposed there was some more distant link if one went back far enough into their genealogies.
There were Darcy relations scattered all over England, many of whom still carried the Darcy name. While Darcy himselfwas not familiar with them, he was aware of at least three branches of the family that all held land. This was due to the Darcys’ practice of purchasing satellite estates and gifting these properties to their younger sons, the number of whom had never been plentiful. Thus, his ownership of Netherfield Park, a property his grandfather had inherited from his father more than half a century earlier.
Darcy had never lamented the relative paucity of his fortune when compared to the wealth the senior line of the family possessed. With Netherfield, Darcy had a presence in town through a few connections to the first circles, and with that, he was content. Darcy had met his cousin on a few occasions, and it had always seemed the burden of high society was greater than any benefit it brought.
