“I require no formal introduction to the master of the house,” Wickham assured her. “The pleasure of your company alone would more than justify the journey.”
The practiced gallantry made Darcy’s teeth clench. Wickham was moving with unusual speed, even by his predatory standards. Unable to interfere, Darcy retreated toward the entrance hall, near enough to overhear a brief exchange between Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas.
“That girl will be the death of me,” Mrs. Bennet murmured, watching Elizabeth bid farewell to Wickham. “Such headstrong behavior, encouraging an officer’s attention when her father has explicitly forbidden association with the militia.”
Lady Lucas made a sympathetic noise. “Young ladies can be difficult to manage at that age. Though I confess, Elizabeth has always seemed uniquely resistant to maternal guidance.”
“She comes by her stubbornness honestly,” Mrs. Bennet repliedwith a peculiar emphasis. “Some qualities run in the blood, as they say. She’s always had her father’s temper laced with the sardonic Bennet wit.”
The wording seemed strange to Darcy’s ear, but Bingley appeared at his side, his expression one of determined cheerfulness despite the evening’s disappointments.
“The carriage is ready, Darcy. Caroline and the Hursts are already seated.”
Darcy nodded, offering perfunctory farewells to their host as they departed. The night air was crisp, stars visible in the clear sky. In another context, he might have found it peaceful.
“A pleasant evening, overall,” Bingley ventured as their carriage began the journey back to Netherfield. “Miss Bennet was as lovely as ever,” Bingley continued wistfully. “If only I could secure a private audience with her father, I am certain I could address whatever concerns he harbors.”
Caroline sniffed delicately. “I cannot imagine what concerns could justify such rudeness. To forbid his family from associating with respectable neighbors is beyond eccentric—it borders on insanity.”
For the first time ever, Darcy was inclined to agree with Caroline, although he would not give her the satisfaction of verbal assent. Instead, he stared out the window into the dark countryside, vowing to distance himself from Hertfordshire and its backwater mysteries.
He was not a superstitious man, and he wasn’t going to allow name coincidences to rattle him.
Elizabeth Rose Bennet would merely be a curiosity, a pretty stone or piece of seaglass for him to peruse whenever boredom struck. She would definitely not occupy his every waking thought, and he would no more beware of her than of any other unknown Bennet.
CHAPTER SIX
WARNING WITH CHARM
The morningafter an evening at Lucas Lodge was usually spent in pleasant recollection of the previous night’s diversions, with each game, conversation, and social interaction subjected to thorough examination. The Bennet family breakfast table typically buzzed with Lydia’s enthusiastic accounts of officers’ attentions, Mary’s critiques of the musical performances, and Mrs. Bennet’s assessments of matrimonial prospects.
This particular morning, however, the atmosphere at Longbourn crackled with tension that Elizabeth could not entirely account for. Her father sat at the head of the table, his newspaper held before him like a shield, his expression thunderous whenever it was visible. Mrs. Bennet alternated between nervous glances at her husband and disapproving ones at Elizabeth.
“I cannot believe you girls would deliberately disobey your father,” Mr. Bennet said suddenly, folding his newspaper with precise, angry movements. “Especially after his explicit instructions regarding certain families.”
“But Papa,” Lydia protested, “Sir William assured us that theNetherfield party would not be in attendance. How were we to know they would appear?”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Bennet added. “Sir William said quite specifically that Mr. Bingley and his friend had declined. It was only at the last minute that they changed their minds.”
Mr. Bennet’s gaze settled on Elizabeth, who met it steadily despite her discomfort. There was something in his eyes—disappointment, certainly, but also fear—that she could not understand.
“And yet, having discovered their presence, you remained,” he observed. “Rather than adhering to the spirit of my prohibition, if not its letter.”
“It would have been the height of rudeness to depart the moment they arrived,” Elizabeth pointed out. “Sir William was our host, and such an action would have required explanation.”
“Lizzy is quite right,” Mrs. Bennet said, surprising Elizabeth with this unusual alliance. “But Mr. Bingley was so very agreeable to Jane. Such attention as he paid her. And he particularly requested a private conversation with me about matters of importance. Surely you cannot object to such promising developments?”
“I can object to whatever I choose, madam. And I particularly object to my explicit instructions being treated as mere suggestions subject to revision based on convenience.”
“But Papa, they are our neighbors,” Lydia argued. “The officers were so gallant and agreeable. Lieutenant Wickham paid particular attention to Lizzy. Papa, you should have heard him.”
“Lydia,” Mrs. Bennet said sharply, “you will not encourage such nonsense. That girl has caused quite enough trouble already.”
Elizabeth felt heat rise in her cheeks. “I beg your pardon, Mama? What trouble have I caused?”
“That silly game where Wickham encouraged you to reveal your middle name,” Mrs. Bennet answered.
“Yes, he appeared most pleased when Lizzy revealed her middle name was Rose,” Kitty added. “He said it suited her perfectly—something about beauty with thorns.”
