Elizabeth could not prevent herself from blushing. “I do esteem him,” she replied evenly. “He is by all accounts, honourable and kind—and afriend.” She gave Suzanne a serious look, her tone earnest. “He has asked for nothing more, and even had he done so, I know not whether I could give him more.”
Jane joined the conversation, astonishment in her manner. “Do you mean to say, Suzanne, that Lizzy likes Mr Darcy?”And why should I not? I have eschewed the company of gentlemen for so long.
“Darcy likes her—that much is evident.” Suzanne spoke with calm assurance. “I have known him for years, though I have not seen him much in society of late. My sister often writes of her frustration with her nephew.” Her tone turned arch as she mimicked Lady Matlock. “‘Those boys will be bachelors forever. One glowers from the corners, the other flirts outrageously, and neither will do as they are bid!’”
Peals of laughter filled the carriage. “I can quite see him doing so,” Elizabeth admitted when her mirth subsided. “His countenance is often so grave—sometimes even forbidding. I do not believe I have seen him smile more than a handful of times.”
The carriage turned into Netherfield’s drive, and conversation ebbed as the ladies waited for it to stop. Elizabeth was grateful for the covered approach; the rain now beat hard on the grounds around them.
The door opened, and one of Suzanne’s footmen extended his hand. “Careful, your ladyship—the steps are slippery, though ’tis dry beneath the awning.”
“Will it ease, Jameson?” Suzanne asked as he assisted her down.
“I cannot say, madam. It looks to be gettin’ worse. I fear the roads may soon be too muddy for the carriage.”
Suzanne sighed. “We shall see. You and Carson must go to the kitchens. Mrs Fiennes assures me the housekeeper will see to your comfort.”
Jameson tipped his hat. “Aye, ma’am, we’ll go after we see to the horses.”
Within moments they had ascended the steps and were admitted into Netherfield’s receiving hall. Elizabeth looked about her. She had never known her husband within these walls, and so the place held no unwelcome memories. Still, it had been years since she had crossed its threshold. Anything connected with Fiennes was best avoided, lest old thoughts stir once more. Some matters, however, she had learned to handle dispassionately—business amongst them. She had seen to it that the estate’s management had been altered sufficiently to efface every trace that spoke of him.
The ladies followed the butler to the parlour, where he announced them. Miss Bingley rose at once and came forward with eager civility, greeting Lady Westland first before turning to Elizabeth and Jane. Her demeanour had undergone a remarkable change in the several days since meeting the Dowager Countess of Westland; she now appeared to consider her neighbours worth cultivating.
“We are so pleased you could join us! Louisa and I have quite exhausted each other’s company. Was your journey accomplished without mishap? This rain is dreadful—the roads will be ruined before the day is out!” She fluttered towards them, motioning to the nearest chairs while continuing her cheerful monologue.
In recent calls at Longbourn, Miss Bingley had sought to ingratiate herself with Lady Westland. Suzanne had received her overtures with courteous good breeding, never cold yet maintaining a proper distance. It seemed Miss Bingley had determined that the surest means of gaining Lady Westland’s favour was to prove herself a woman worthy of friendship.
“How amazed we were to learn the Bennets kept such exalted company!” Miss Bingley exclaimed when they were all seated. “Such a remote part of the country—we did not expect anyone of quality to be found here.”She beamed at Suzanne. Elizabeth concealed a smile; did Miss Bingley not perceive how insulting she sounded?
“Many people of quality enjoy spending time in the country,” Suzanne replied with polished ease. “The Bennets are landed gentry, and Longbourn has been in their family for several generations. I was delighted to make Elizabeth and Mr Bennet’s acquaintance years ago, and renewing that friendship has been a joy.” She glanced towards Elizabeth, their shared smile full of familiar affection.
Mrs Hurst joined in. “When will you return to town, Lady Westland?” Her tone was warm, her eyes alight with genuine interest—so unlike her sister’s affected manner.
“My plans are not fixed. I intend to spend Christmas with Elizabeth and her family. Arthur and I shall go to London afterwards. Will you remain in Hertfordshire for Christmastide, or visit Mr Hurst’s family?” Her returning smile reached her eyes this time and carried none of the polite insincerity she reserved for Miss Bingley.
“Hurst and I have no plans to leave my brother’s house until the new year,” Mrs Hurst replied pleasantly. “We are quite happy in the country. My husband has enjoyed much sport, and my brother is learning a great deal regarding estate management from Mr Darcy.”
“But we do love town,” Miss Bingley interposed. “Mrs Fiennes, will you go to town this season—perhaps to join Lady Westland?” She leaned forwards eagerly, her fan poised in expectation.
“I have always preferred the country to town,” Elizabeth replied with her usual reserve. “Though I may have cause to travel there this season.” The very thought made her anxious. Suzanne had already offered the hospitality of Godfrey House should she come, sparing her the necessity of returning to the Fiennes townhouse.
Dinner was soon announced, and the ladies passed into the dining room. Miss Bingley resumed her chatter, detailing her acquaintances in London, no doubt in the hope of discovering mutual friends. Suzanne listened courteously, though it quickly became evident they shared none. The conversation shifted to fashion, accomplishments, and other insipid topics fit for polite company.
Stifling a sigh, Elizabeth turned to Suzanne, determined to seek more sensible discourse. If she were obliged to make one more trite remark on embroidery or watercolours, she would go mad. “Will you continue to oversee Godfrey Manor after your marriage?” she asked.
Suzanne seized upon the new topic with something akin to relief. “Yes, indeed. I have a very good understanding with my steward, as you know. Still, it will be a comfort to have Mr Blythe’s assistance. Tenants do not always take kindly to a lady managing affairs. Henry will allow me to make the decisions and then present them in my stead—it will save many a needless argument.”
“Have you managed your son’s inheritancesolelyfor long?” Miss Bingley asked, her curiosity appearing genuine.
“I have. All business relating to the earldom has fallen under my care, with the support of my steward and my brother-in-law, Lord Matlock. Women are quite as capable in such matters as men. I believe none could find fault with my management, and my son will inherit a prosperous and well-governed estate.” She smiled with contained pride as she raised her spoon.
Miss Bingley appeared thoughtful. “I was always told such matters were best left to the men.”
Suzanne turned to her fully. “Do you consider yourself an intelligent woman, Miss Bingley? I do not mean accomplished—can you reason? Do you think clearly?”
“Of course.” Miss Bingley coloured a little. “But my mother always said that men dislike clever women. She thought it best to conceal such qualities until after the wedding.”
Mrs Hurst, who had listened intently, leaned forwards. “Yet she encouraged us to learn. Caroline always took greater pleasure in our lessons than I did. I married a man who valued my dowry more than my mind, and we rub along well enough. However, I have met gentlemen who truly appreciate a wife with whom they can converse rationally.”
