“I knew about the entail,” said Darcy, understanding Mrs. Bennet a little better, “but I had not considered it from her perspective.”
Mr. Gardiner smiled. “My sister is not all ambition and mercenary interest in wealthy husbands, Mr. Darcy—there is little to support her and the girls should the worst happen to my brother, and my sister believes marriage is the path to true security for both her daughters and herself. It leads to her ill-judged behavior.”
“And yet, your two eldest nieces display excellent manners.”
The couple before him laughed. “I noticed what you did not say about the younger girls,” said Mr. Gardiner, shaking his head with mirth.
When Darcy opened his mouth to apologize, the man waved him off. “There is no need to retract your comment, Mr. Darcy, for it is nothing less than the truth.”
“Jane and Elizabeth are more naturally disposed to good behavior,” added Mrs. Gardiner. “They also stayed with us when they were young—before our own children consumed our time. Kitty and Lydia are good girls at heart, but they are still immature.”
Darcy nodded and changed the subject, knowing he had already said more than he should. Mr. Gardiner spoke of his business and contacts, some of whom included members of the gentry, and they discussed the benefits of living in London compared to the country and other such subjects. Darcy found he had not been so entertained by a conversation in some time—the Gardiners were excellent people, unconfined by their position in society. When Darcy left, he did so with an interest in keeping the acquaintance. The overture would need to come from his side, given his position as the higher in society, but Mr. Gardiner had provided his address before they parted. Darcy meant to use it.
Chapter VII
What Darcy had not expected was that Hurst, of all people, would interrogate him the moment they walked into the house at Netherfield. Not that he had been ignorant of the looks the man was giving him in the carriage, but Darcy had pushed it aside as one of his peculiarities, preferring instead to focus on the revelations of the day and how they might affect him. The moment they entered the sitting-room, Hurst went to the side table and poured himself a small measure of brandy, downing it in one swallow. Then he turned a jaundiced eye in Darcy’s direction.
“Tell me, Darcy,” said he, “do you mean to remain silent in Miss Elizabeth’s presence?”
Darcy stared at him, not understanding Hurst’s meaning. “Miss Elizabeth? What has she to do with anything? I spoke with the Gardiners.”
“The infamous couple in trade,” said Bingley with a snort. “That shines a light on Caroline’s acumen; she branded them as coarse and unsuitable without even the benefit of an acquaintance.”
“It is good that you see it, Bingley,” said Hurst. “Your sister has been playing you for a fool for years.”
Bingley’s jaw tightened, but Hurst paid him no more heed. “Paying attention to her dear relationswillinduce her to think better of you, Darcy, but to refuse to speak to her at all when she is nearby will do you no favors.”
“Do you suppose Iwantto provoke her good opinion?”
Bingley and Hurst shared a glance that suggested they thought him deficient, provoking more vexation on Darcy’s part. He might have responded, had Hurst not shaken his head.
“It is most amusing to see you still denying what even Caroline, as myopic as she is, could see within weeks of our arrival in Hertfordshire.”
“Please speak plainly, Hurst,” snapped Darcy, “for I cannot understand you.”
“Then I shall,” replied Hurst.
Setting his glass on the side table, he sat on the sofa, though he did not sprawl as was his custom. Instead, he sat upright, facing Darcy, his expression that of a patient adult explaining something to an obtuse child.
“Though some might call you inscrutable, I find you a fascinating study, but not one difficult to understand after working out your tendencies. The fact is, Darcy, that you admire Miss Elizabeth Bennet, even if you have not confessed it to yourself. Do you suppose Caroline was so mean to Miss Elizabeth because of simple dislike? No—she was protecting what she considers her territory.”
Darcy gaped at Hurst but was about to protest when Bingley snorted, drawing his attention.
“There is no reason to deny it, old man. Never have I seen you engage with another woman like you do with Miss Elizabeth, and Hurst is correct about Caroline. I never thought you would relax your iron control, but I suspected she fascinated you by the evening of the ball.”
“Add to that,” said Hurst, “you asked Miss Elizabeth alone of all the ladies in attendance to dance. You even neglected Caroline that night, an incivility she was not at all hesitant to share with my wife.”
“And your constant scrutiny,” added Bingley. “If you looked at Caroline a quarter so much, she would shop for her trousseau.”
“Then you came to Hertfordshire at once at the mere suggestion that Wickham was interested in her.”
That last got Darcy’s attention. “Are you telling me that you lured me here under false pretenses?”
“Not at all,” replied Hurst, unmoved by his show of displeasure. “I suspected a mention of Miss Elizabeth and Wickham in the same sentence would draw you to Hertfordshire, but I judged the danger to her—to the entire neighborhood—was real. You did not act as you ought; I allowed you to correct your error.
“To own the truth,” added Hurst, more thoughtfully than before, “I consider the eldest Bennet sisters to be fine women—damn fine women. Were I not married, I might almost try my hand with Miss Elizabeth. A man could do much worse than to attach himself to such a fiery, intelligent woman, and she is not difficult to look at either.”
“Should I take offense for my sister?” jested Bingley.
