“Miss Elizabeth mentioned something of it,” Darcy confessed. “I am not at all pleased with your sister’s actions. They were calculated, and her words might have caused harm to Georgiana’s reputation.”
“There is no need to explain it to me.” Bingley shifted in his seat. “I have made things right with Miss Bennet, though I do not believe she fully trusts me yet. I shall have to prove myself all over again.”
“If she loves you, and you love her, then it will be worth the effort.”
Darcy fell silent then, listening as Bingley once more extolled Miss Bennet’s many charms.
Later that night, sequestered in his chambers, he reflected on his conversation with Elizabeth. His thoughts turned to examining his own behavior. Darcy now recognized that he had carried himself as though he were above his company during his first stay in Hertfordshire. He had once argued that where there was a real superiority of mind, pride would always be under good regulation. But he no longer believed it. When pride compels a man to treat others poorly, can it still be deemed righteous? In all his years, Darcy had never seen hisfather behave so. George Darcy’s pride had been quiet, dignified, tempered by kindness—a mantle of responsibility worn for the sake of those he governed, never at their expense. To measure his own conduct against that example was to feel the weight of shame.
I will be better,he resolved.And I shall do it for myself.While Elizabeth had inspired this resolution, true change had to come from within. It was not for her sake alone that he must improve, but because he knew he ought.
Chapter Three
December 15, 1811
Lucas Lodge
Elizabeth
“Janelooksradiant,”Charlotteobserved. “I have never seen her so happy. My mother said there was talk that Netherfield was shut up and its residents had removed to town. I am glad to see she was mistaken.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “She was not mistaken, sadly. Jane says Mr. Bingley’s sisters did everything in their power to keep him in town. They offered all sorts of reasons why a connection with my sister would be a complete and utter disaster. I placed little faith in Miss Bingley’s note, but Jane did, and was truly distressed. All is made right now, however, and I shall rejoice that her heart has not been irrevocably broken.”
Charlotte nodded in commiseration. Her future was secure; the engagement between Miss Lucas and Mr. Collins had caused considerable turmoil at Longbourn, and within Elizabeth herself. All her sensibilities rebelled against her dear friend entering a union of convenience. Charlotte deserved more than a mediocre existence as the wife of a ridiculous parson. She, however, seemed content with her choice, and so Elizabeth would stand by her.
“Will he make her an offer soon?” Charlotte’s query drew Elizabeth back to the present.
“I expect he will. It is clear his ardor has not waned, and Jane’s admiration is writ plainly on her face. Her hopes wavered until he returned, but now her faith is restored.” Elizabeth gazed lovingly at her favorite sister. Jane’s face was luminescent; the candlelight made the jeweled combs in her hair sparkle, adding to her beauty.
“What about Mr. Darcy?” Charlotte asked, nodding to the gentleman who stood across the room speaking with Mr. Goulding. “He seems very different from how he was before the Netherfield Ball.”
“I cannot account for the change. He actuallysmiledat me the other day. Can you imagine it? The proud, haughty Mr. Darcy deigned to grant me a happy expression!” Elizabeth chuckled, though it sounded half-hearted even to her own ears. The gentleman’s altered behavior had startled her. Mr. Bingley had called on Jane every day since his return, and Mr. Darcy always accompanied him. He was not gregarious, but he made an effort to speak with Elizabeth. His usual aloofness was nowhere to be seen. Yes, he remained reserved, but now in a manner more reminiscent of Jane. Why, he had even attempted to converse with Mary and Mrs. Bennet—Mary had stared at him, mute, while her mother had appeared flustered and unsure how to respond.
“See how well he gets along with Mr. Goulding.” Charlotte nodded once more in his direction. “Few can tolerate his inane ramblings. Though I respect the gentleman, he makes my father’s monologues seem pleasant.”
Mr. Goulding was elderly—nearly eighty. He had outlived three wives and four of his children. Now, he kept to his small estate, Goldfinch Manor, occasionally attending soirees or other gatherings. His daughter and grandson resided with him. The boy, merely twelve, was to go away to school the following year. Mrs. Willis, formerly Miss Goulding, was a child of Mr. Goulding’s third marriage. She had been widowed when her husband, a navy captain, was lost at sea.
“Why do you suppose he is so altered?” Elizabeth asked with curiosity. “I cannot account for it. It may be all a show.”
“What purpose would he have in giving a false representation of himself?” Charlotte shook her head in disagreement. “I think it is more likely that the absence of a certain lady has helped him relax enough to be pleasant in company.”
Elizabeth laughed merrily. “I can agree with that. Miss Bingley’s preference for his company was hardly reciprocated. I do not believe Mr. Darcy appreciates her company at all.”
Charlotte’s shrewd gaze turned in her friend’s direction, sharpened by a pointed look. “His affections appear fixed in another quarter,” she stated calmly. “No, Elizabeth, do not protest. You choose not to see it, but his admiration is clear. Why you insist on avoiding him is beyond me. He has twice the consequence of Mr. Bingley, and many more connections.”
“If such things were of interest to me, then I would not hesitate to press this supposed advantage you claim I possess. Alas, I will not marry where there is no mutual respect and affection. Mr. Darcy’s own words condemn him. I believe he said I was tolerable, and not handsome enough to tempt him. He watches me only to find fault—that is all.”
“Think that if it gives you comfort. Only, do not be so hasty to disregard him. It may be the worst decision you could ever make. Think, Eliza. I shall have some influence over Mr. Collins as his wife, but I could scarcely urge him to receive into his home the relations of a lady who so decidedly refused him. Your father will eventually die, as we all must, and when that happens, your family will be nearly destitute.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Jane will marry Mr. Bingley. We shall not perish.”
Charlotte sighed heavily and said no more as she was called away by her mother. Elizabeth felt grateful, for she wearied of her friend’s constant efforts to match her with Mr. Darcy.
I do not like him.Why should I? He has done nothing to earn my regard. Indeed, he has done everything possible to make me hate him. And how could I consider marrying a man who would destroy the happiness and prospects of a close friend? That is not honorable behavior.
She glanced about the room, determined to look anywhere but athim. Kitty and Lydia lingered in a corner with Captain Denny and Lieutenant Sanderson, two officers of the militia. Frowning, Elizabeth realized she had not seen Mr. Wickham that evening. He had been invited, as had all the officers. Why, then, had he not attended?
He must have heard Mr. Darcy would be here and chose to remain away.Yet even as the thought formed, another recollection surfaced—something Mr. Wickham had said:
