Chapter One
November 28, 1811
Darcy House, London
Darcy
“Charles,Imustinsistyou abandon this absurd notion of marrying Miss Bennet. I admit, she is a pretty girl—uncommonly beautiful, even—but she is not suitable foryou. How can you not see she has drawn you in? Her entire family is objectionable, from her reclusive father to her wild younger sisters. Would you expose us to ridicule and disdain by giving your name to such an unsuitable country bumpkin? And what will happen when her father dies? You would be burdened with the whole lot of them!”
Miss Caroline Bingley’s tirade went on for another five minutes. Fitzwilliam Darcy paid it little heed; instead, he observed his friend. Charles Bingley bore the mien of a manlong-suffering, yet with each passing word, his expression grew more resolute. He did not interrupt nor respond until his sister had exhausted herself.
“You are mistaken, Caroline. Of all the ladies I have had the pleasure to know, Miss Bennet is the most genuine. If she owns one ounce of guile in her body, then I shall swim in the Thames. She is everything to me—everything. And what do I care for her family’s behavior? I intend to marry her, not them.”
“Do not be a fool! Everyone knows a bride’s family is part of the marriage bargain. One cannot escape such an association once the register is signed. As your elder sisters, it is our duty to safeguard you and to prevent a catastrophic error.”
Bingley rose and made to leave the room. Miss Bingley’s look of desperation became more evident, and she rounded on Darcy.
“Do you not agree with me, Mr. Darcy?” she cried, her voice rising with urgency. “All of us hastened to London to assist you, Charles. Mr. Darcy came as well and holds the same opinion. Do you not, sir?”
Bingley halted in the doorway and turned, his face impassive as he regarded his friend. “Well, Darcy?” he asked. “Do you agree with them?”
Darcy detested being drawn into familial discord. Still, he cared deeply for Bingley and did not wish to see him ensnared in a marriage lacking equal affection. “I observed her closely at the ball, Bingley,” he said slowly. “Sir William Lucas made me aware that you have raised…certain expectations. I regret to say I saw no indication of particular regard in her manner. It appears Miss Bennet’s heart is not easily touched, and I fear she might accept your proposal to secure her future—and that of her family by extension.”
For a moment, Bingley appeared stricken with doubt, though he swiftly schooled his features. “I shall take your…observations under advisement. For now, I will retire. I spent the day withmy solicitor, and I am thoroughly exhausted.” He pivoted on his heel and strode out, leaving the Hursts, Miss Bingley, and Darcy behind.
“Well done, sir!” Miss Bingley moved to his side and settled into the chair beside him. Her hand reached out to rest upon his sleeve. “How very fortunate I am that you and I are of one accord. My brother will be spared a fortune hunter, and at last we may leave Hertfordshire behind. What a dreadful little backwater it is. There is no hint of refinement among any of the natives. Indeed, they are veritable savages compared to those who frequent town. I am certain you agree.”
“Their country manners are suited to their environment, I should think,” he replied, drawing his arm away from her grasp and shifting in his seat to face the fire. “Quite comparable to the area surrounding Pemberley.”
“But of course, those near your estate are of a different caliber. Their proximity to a great house must naturally instill sensibilities and manners not found in the wilds of Hertfordshire.” She shifted in her seat, and he angled himself to look at her, striving to remain civil, though he wished fervently that she and the Hursts would take their leave.
Bingley had accepted an invitation to stay at Darcy House while attending to business in town. As Darcy had returned to London in the Hursts’ carriage, they had all agreed to address the matter with Bingley openly and without delay. Now that it was settled, he longed for solitude. His thoughts were muddled and conflicted, and he needed time to set them in order.
In truth, Miss Bennet would make a most a suitable match for Bingley—if only she returned his affection. Bingley possessed ample fortune to marry as he pleased and had no exalted relations to appease. Marrying the daughter of a gentleman would elevate, not diminish, his standing. Yet, as Miss Bennet remained unmoved, quite untouched by his friend’s ardor, it wasbest they part ways before promises were made that could not be easily undone.
There was, too, another matter Darcy had not fully acknowledged: the strength ofhisattraction to Miss Bennet’s younger sister, Elizabeth. Should Bingley return to Hertfordshire and wed Miss Bennet, Darcy would be forced into Elizabeth’s company time and again. He would either sever ties with one of his dearest friends or submit himself repeatedly to a most dangerous temptation.
“Caroline, let us go to Hurst House now,” Mrs. Hurst complained. “We have been in the carriage all day, and I long for my chambers and a cup of chocolate.” Darcy had, of course, offered them tea, and they had partaken. Still, he welcomed the remark, for it prompted Miss Bingley to rise, albeit reluctantly, and prepare to take their leave. Darcy stood to see them out.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for your assistance. I am certain that, after a good night’s sleep, Charles will see our point of view and resolve to give up Netherfield Park.” Miss Bingley once more reached for his sleeve. “I can only trust your observations will aid him in coming to that conclusion. Then, of course, we may direct him toward a more…desirable match.” Her expression suggested a specific lady, and Darcy wondered whether she had already chosen a candidate for the future Mrs. Charles Bingley.
Mr. Hurst was nudged awake, and the three were conducted to the entrance hall. Darcy’s butler, Brisby, offered Mr. Hurst his great coat and helped the ladies into their cloaks, then attended them to the door.
At last, he was alone.
Darcy wandered back to the parlor, reflecting upon the confrontation and questioning whether their words had left any impression. Bingley had given no sign of distress before leaving. He had, rather unusually, adopted some of Darcy’s own mannerisms—guarding his thoughts and masking his features.It was curious, for Bingley typically wore his heart upon his sleeve. He seldom concealed his emotions. Indeed, his open, amiable nature left little room for misinterpretation. He had made his preference for Miss Bennet plain to all, and his attentions had raised undeniable expectations. While Darcy believed Bingley’s affections were sincere, he could not say the same of Miss Bennet’s.
In his experience, few individuals were truly genuine. Most were concerned with appearances, and the most attractive and engaging among them often proved the least trustworthy. George Wickham stood as a prime example. He styled himself a gentleman, employing his education and genteel upbringing to deceive, but in all things, he was a bad bargain. In every village from Lambton to London, he had left broken hearts and ruined prospects. Darcy had paid more than enough of his debts to know the truth of it.
Miss Bennet was the handsomest woman to whom Darcy had ever been introduced. Her classical beauty was unparalleled—or so it seemed, at least by the standards held by London society. Yet he could not help but suspect that behind her lovely features lay a disingenuous and calculating nature. Given the family’s circumstances, it was essential that the daughters marry men of fortune, lest they fall into genteel poverty upon their father’s death. Surely, her vulgar mother had taught her to put her beauty to use in securing a husband.
But she is two-and-twenty and unmarried,the reasonable voice within him countered. Darcy dismissed it. That merely signified she had not yet caught a gentleman’s interest long enough to result in marriage. Perhaps others, more discerning and experienced than Bingley, had escaped her clutches.Their acquaintance was too brief for either party to form a true understanding of the other,he reasoned.I have done him a service.
Darcy retired for the night, his thoughts still unsettled. Part of him feared he was wrong and that Miss Bennet was, in fact, precisely what she appeared to be. Another part questioned his own motives. Were they principled, or born of self-interest? If the latter, then his character required correction. Darcy was not a man to ruin another’s happiness merely to spare himself discomfort. And yet, as he drifted off to sleep, he questioned himself once more, wondering whether he had seen what he wished to see in Miss Bennet, simply because he longed to be free of the temptation posed by Elizabeth.
After a restless night, Darcy rose and saw to his needs before dressing and retiring to his study. Breakfast would not be ready for another hour, and he had business matters to which he must attend. A letter from his steward had awaited reply; one he had postponed until after his return to London. One of Pemberley’s tenants had recently lost its patriarch. The eldest son was but twelve years of age. Though the family continued to work their land, the yield was notably diminished since the father’s death. His steward, Mr. Browning, expressed concern they might fail to meet their obligations.
The Wilsons would not accept charity, and so it fell to Darcy to find a way for them toearnwhat they lacked. He had no wish to cast them out and had already arranged for another tenant family to aid in farming the land come spring. It would take careful thought, but he felt certain he could devise a solution.
