“Perhaps it is better to refrain,” said Elizabeth through pursed lips, much to Darcy’s amusement.
“To own the truth,” said he, “I am all bemusement that you doubted my mother’s esteem. Did her character not inform you that she did not hold the same opinions as my father?”
“I did not doubt her, as such,” said Elizabeth, pressing closer to him as they walked. “I know your mother well and have good relations with her. But a little confirmation can never go amiss.”
“No, I suppose it does not,” chuckled Darcy. “Do not allow any hint of doubt to stain your mind, Elizabeth. Mother loves you as she would if she had a daughter of her own. I have heard her comment many times on the similarity of your characters.”
“That is excellent news, William. Now, tell me more of Mrs. Bingley.”
Darcy laughed, enjoying this woman’s company, his beloved who would soon be a part of his life forever. “Shall I order him to submit to you for inspection?”
“Do not be silly, William!” said she with a playful swat at him. “We have spoken of your friend often enough that I think I comprehend him well, and his performance the times we have seen him has not disappointed. Yet, now that his admiration for Jane is obvious, I would know more of him.”
“Of course, you do,” said Darcy, “knowing your protective nature toward your sister. Bingley, my love, is everything he portrays himself to be and not a jot more or less. I know of no one so open as Bingley, for he is exactly as he seems.”
“My question might be premature,” said Elizabeth, “but are there impediments to any pursuit of Jane he might contemplate?”
“Are you turning into your mother?”
As expected, Elizabeth fixed him with a fierce scowl, entirely feigned, though when she spoke, it was with more than a hint of primness. “I will have you know,Mrs. Darcy, that is not a near likeness of my mother at all. The presence of a certain gentleman who has long made his intentions known rendered her content, knowing that her future is secure.”
Then Elizabeth grinned and added: “That is fortunate, indeed, for I recall my mother’s characterbeforethe gentleman presented himself as a potential suitor. If she still worried for her future, with Jane now two and twenty, I cannot imagine how she would behave.”
“Your mother is perfectly amiable, Elizabeth,” said Darcy. “Though perhaps she is a little zealous.”
Elizabeth glanced heavenward, amusing Darcy all over again. Zealous was the least that one could say about Mrs. Bennet, especially concerning her daughters’ marriage prospects, which extended to the upcoming celebration of their nuptials. Several pitched battles had already occurred between mother and daughter, for Elizabeth’s tastes were different from her mother’s. It had taken all Darcy’s patience, Mrs. Bennet’s persuasion, and Mrs. Darcy’s diplomacy to settle these fraught encounters. Fortunately, the planning was now complete, allowing them to enjoy their last weeks before the significant event without acrimony.
“Well, Mrs. Darcy?” prompted she. “I believe I asked a question that you did not deign to answer, instead choosing to insult my mother.”
“I shall always have the highest respect for your mother,” replied Darcy, “if for no other reason than because she birthed you.”
“That is a comfort, Mrs. Darcy,” said Elizabeth wryly, while continuing to regard him.
“Bingley, yes,” said Darcy. “Had you not distracted me, I think I would have told you all by now.”
Elizabeth was, Darcy had noted in the past, adept at teasing, though not so proficient at enduring the same from others. The baleful glare she fixed on him set him to laughing, and he hastened to the subject at hand.
“As I said, Bingley is an excellent sort, a man I defy anyone to dislike. He is the scion of a long line of tradesmen, industrious men who built the family business sufficient for Bingley to sell a portion of his share of the business to his uncles. He still owns some shares that bring him income, but his involvement now is only superficial. He derives the rest of his income from money he has deposited, intended for the purchase of an estate.”
“Then he is secure.”
Darcy nodded. “His wealth does not equal mine, for my family has saved since my grandfather took possession of Netherfield. Yet his income is similar and may even outstrip mine depending on the size of the estate he purchases.”
“Yet he will be new money, and his standing will not improve for several generations.”
“That is true,” said Darcy with a shrug, “though Bingley has little care for such things. He is an unpretentious fellow. If only his nearest relations were the same.”
Elizabeth looked on with interest. “Given such a background, I would not have suspected them of putting on such airs.”
“There is, in truth, only one,” replied Darcy, the memory ofthatwoman less than welcome. “I have never made the acquaintance of any of his extended family. Bingley is master of his affairs, as his parents both passed, his father only two years ago. He has no brothers and two sisters.”
“Ah, then that explains it,” said Elizabeth. “They are not his equal and think well of themselves, I suppose.”
“The younger only,” replied Darcy. “The elder, Mrs. Louisa Hurst, is five and twenty, quieter and less forceful than her sister. Sometimes it is difficult to separate her from her sister, for they are the closest siblings. The younger, Miss Caroline Bingley, is a woman of ambition, her purpose to climb the heights with no care at all for temper, compatibility, or even anything more than a cursory attention to propriety. She can be mean, overbearing, and single-minded in pursuing her goals.”
“In short,” said Elizabeth, her voice brimming with hilarity, “she wishes to haveyoufor a husband! I wonder that you never told me of this before, William. Did you suppose I would fly into a rage, call Miss Bingley out to eat grass in the morning?”
“The notion of you facing her across the dueling piste is rather amusing, Elizabeth,” said Darcy.
