The housekeeper had made no secret of her displeasure when the gentlemen had arrived. Darcy had felt like a chastened schoolboy, skulking behind Bingley while the servant voiced her thoughts with unvarnished honesty. As an employee of the estate, she showed no fear that Bingley might remove her for speaking plainly. The scene reminded him of Mrs. Reynolds, his housekeeper at Pemberley, whose loyalty was accompanied by forthright opinions. After delivering her firm but polite reprimand, Mrs. Nicholls had cheerfully set about reinstating the staff Miss Bingley had so carelessly dismissed.
“I wish it were already tomorrow.” Bingley crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a measure of brandy from the decanter. “Then we might call upon Longbourn. Heaven knows what Caroline wrote in her letter to Jane—Miss Bennet, that is.”
Darcy recalled seeing Miss Bingley’s note leave Netherfield just as the carriages were preparing to depart. She had claimed only to inform Miss Bennet of their removal to town. Given the scene several days prior at Darcy House, he and Bingley now suspected the letter was not so innocuous.
“Patience, my friend. The Bennets are local and will not vanish overnight. You remain within the time you gave Miss Bennet for your return, too. If your sister wrote anything improper, it will be a small matter to set right. One might even say Miss Bingley was simply misinformed.”
Bingley brightened. “Yes, you are quite right. Excellent. Thank you, Darcy. As always, your good sense shows the way throughthe muddled mess in my mind. We shall call on Miss Bennet—and the others at Longbourn—on the morrow. You were planning to accompany me, were you not?”
Darcy inclined his head in affirmation. He, too, was impatient to see Elizabeth. A part of him wondered whether he was mistaken in his interpretation of her behavior toward him. He wished to determine the truth for himself. Perhaps he had not remembered correctly. Better it should prove so, for otherwise he had much for which to atone. Was she the forgiving sort? He did not know. He was forced to admit he had not fully discerned the intricacies of her character during his earlier stay in Hertfordshire.
His feelings regarding the eldest Miss Bennet remained uncertain. He still believed she held no strong affection for Bingley, but he could no longer ignore the possibility that his prejudice had clouded his judgment. Given his recent revelations regarding Elizabeth, he felt it was only just to reexamine his assumptions. Perhaps the elder Miss Bennet simply guarded her emotions more closely than most ladies were wont to do.
They dined quietly that evening, both still fatigued from the previous day’s travels. Darcy remained with Bingley for some time after the meal before retiring to his chamber. He felt restless, and sleep eluded him for some while, but at last he drifted off.
Bingley’s exuberance could not be contained the next morning. He hummed cheerfully as he served himself from the sideboard, then took a seat across from Darcy.
“Did you ride out this morning?” he asked, as he tucked into his eggs with unconcealed eagerness.
“No, I did not feel up to it.” In truth, he had wished to avoid the possibility of encountering Miss Elizabeth on one of her morning walks. For reasons he did not fully understand, he preferred that their first meeting occur during a formal call, where he might observe how she received him in comparison to others. It would serve as a sort of confirmation—or, with any fortune, a contradiction—of her feelings. She had always treated him with civility, even in the face of Miss Bingley’s vitriol. It might even prove impossible to discern her true sentiments.
The gentlemen occupied themselves with their respective business concerns until the hour came to call at Longbourn. Bingley called for his carriage, and they rode in silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts. The journey passed too quickly for Darcy’s comfort, and he found himself still unprepared to face Elizabeth upon their arrival. A footman opened the carriage door, and the gentlemen alighted. Darcy counted the steps to the manor door and marked each second until it opened.
“Good day, sirs,” said Longbourn’s butler, Mr. Hill, as he stepped aside. “Please, come in.”
They entered and removed their hats and coats before the housekeeper, Mrs. Hill, led them to the larger drawing room, situated on the western side of the house—ideal for the winter months, as the afternoon sun lent the room its warmth.
“Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, ma’am.” Mrs. Hill announced as they entered.
The ladies of Longbourn were gathered in a perfect tableau of domestic felicity. Miss Bennet sat beside Elizabeth. Darcy noted the tension in Miss Bennet’s features—so unlike the serene composure she was known to display. His mien shifted, a seed of doubt taking root. The evidence of his misjudgment continued to grow.
“Mr. Bingley!” Mrs. Bennet came forward and curtsied. “We are pleased to see you, sir. We heard that Netherfield Park had been closed up, but I told Mrs. Long it could not be true. No gentleman would abandon his estate—certainly not without bidding farewell to the neighbors who had welcomed him so warmly.” She quivered with excitement, her hands fluttering until she laced her fingers tightly before her waist. “And Mr. Darcy.” Her tone was markedly cooler, and the look she cast him spoke volumes. “You are welcome, too.”
He inclined his head, though he doubted she noticed. As the matron turned away, she directed them to sit and resumed her place, taking up her embroidery and feigning disinterest. However, it was plain that she followed their every movement.
He and Bingley crossed to where the eldest Misses Bennet were seated and took chairs on either side of the settee they occupied.
“Miss Bennet,” Bingley began warmly. “And Miss Elizabeth. We are glad to be back. My business in town was not nearly so arduous as I had feared, though it seemed to occupy more time than I anticipated. No doubt the inducement to return made me most impatient.” His gaze did not stray from Miss Bennet’s.
Her cheeks flushed, and Darcy noted that the tension in her features eased, replaced by…
Hope,he thought. WhatdidMiss Bingley say in her letter?
Elizabeth spoke, answering his very thoughts, and he wondered whether his countenance betrayed more than he intended.
“We understood you would not return to Netherfield Park this winter—indeed, it was implied you meant to give up the place entirely. How pleased I am that our informant was mistaken.” She met his gaze, the challenge plain.
“Yes, well…” Bingley shifted uncomfortably. “I believe certain parties expected such a conclusion. However, I am of a differentmind. Hertfordshire is the only place I wish to be at present. Indeed, I cannot recall a more agreeable time in my life than the months I spent here.”
Miss Bennet relaxed further, though she still said nothing. Darcy groaned inwardly.I shall have to assist Bingley. Elizabeth is guarding her sister. She will not allow Miss Bennet to speak privately with my friend unless she is assured of her sister’s well-being.
“A walk, Bingley?” Darcy asked. “We have been confined to a carriage far too long these past days. The weather is fine.”
Bingley brightened. “Yes! Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, what say you? Shall we take a turn in the garden?”
Miss Bennet agreed, and her sister did likewise. Both ladies seemed more at ease once they were out of doors, and within moments they had naturally divided into two pairs—Bingley and Miss Bennet walking ahead, while Darcy followed with Elizabeth.
They walked silently for a time, the space between the two couples gradually widening until at length neither conversation could be overheard.
