Darcy and Bingley exchanged a look at that question, having known Miss Lydia to be entirely the opposite in their early acquaintance. It was Mrs Annesley who replied gently, “I suspect, Miss Darcy, that having been so recently ill and wearing the marks of that illness now, she may be reluctant to make new acquaintances for fear of being rejected for her appearance.”
Georgiana looked horrified at the very thought. “Oh, poor Miss Lydia! I confess that had not occurred to me, but now that I think upon it, she and Miss Bennet must have been as pretty as their sisters until very recently, and might feel it keenly.”
“Most young ladies would, even if they had no pretty sisters to be compared to,” Mrs Annesley remarked. “I know you do not like to put yourself forward, but if you wish to know Miss Lydia better you may be required to do so.” As Georgiana replied that she would try, Darcy thought with satisfaction that they had indeed, if rather late, found an ideal companion for his sister, a woman of both education and kindness, capable of revealing the realities of life in such a way to inform the tender-hearted girl without damaging her spirit.
* * *
“So,” commented Colonel Fitzwilliam as he and Darcy pulled up in a frosted field after a hard early-morning ride from Netherfield, “you spent an uncommon amount of time with Miss Elizabeth when we visited Longbourn. Is there something you wish to tell me?”
Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. “No, there is nothing.”
“Come now, I have never known you to pay so much attention to a lady, much less an available one!” Fitzwilliam replied with a look of curiosity. “She is a pretty thing, and witty. Uncommonly intelligent, unless I miss my guess. Just the sort of lady who would attract you, in fact. You cannot say you are unaffected; I know you too well.”
Although a little shocked that his feelings were so apparent, Darcy nodded. “She is all of those things, and you did not know her before the death of her mother and the illness of her sisters,” he replied wistfully. “She brought light and laughter into every room, and no doubt shall again when her grief has passed.”
“Pity her family is not suitable, though,” his cousin commented. “You really ought to cease indulging yourself in the pleasure of her company, before you raise expectations you cannot fulfil.”
Darcy was rather taken aback. “Cannot? I have made no declaration, but if I wish to raise her expectations, and to meet them, I am entirely at liberty to do so. The Bennets are not of theton, but Mr Bennet is a gentleman. Do you truly think I require more wealth and connexions?”
“You may not need them, but it is expected that you shall get them nonetheless,” came the impatient reply. “And though the father is a gentleman—just barely—the uncles are not. Are you seriously contemplating affixing the Darcy name to the stench of trade?”
Darcy huffed. “Viscount Burnley just married a tradesman’s daughter; am I, a mere gentleman, to baulk at a tradesman’s niece, the daughter of a gentleman?”
“Burnley needed her dowry—you have no such excuse. Think of Georgiana’s prospects.”
“Georgiana has wealth and connexions aplenty. I cannot see how a lively, witty, and gracious sister would harm her prospects.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet may be all of those things, but she is not of our circles. Her acceptance would not come easily, if at all. You would be mocked for losing your head over a pretty chit of no consequence, and she would be roundly derided as a fortune hunter.” Fitzwilliam shook his head as if incredulous at Darcy’s naivete. “Then there’s the matter of making up for Georgiana’s dowry when the time comes—best think on how you’ll manage that without anything from your wife. And what would you get in return for all these difficulties? A handsome armful and the care of the rest of the sisters when the father’s gone.”
“I would have a marriage of affection,” Darcy replied frostily. “I have seen enough purely practical matches to know that I would be miserable in such a union.”
Fitzwilliam’s eyebrows reached for his hairline. “And just what makes you think she holds you in equal, or even comparable, affection? I have seen nothing of it. She does not seem to have any expectations of you, nor do her relations.” He rubbed his jaw. “It is a bit odd, now I think on it. There is usually speculation when a man of wealth pays more attention to one young lady than another, even if it truly is mere friendship on both sides, yet none of the Miss Bennets seem to consider you anything but an adjunct to Bingley, or your attentions to Miss Elizabeth more than a way of passing the time. The fact that they treat you no differently than they do anyone else must at least acquit them of fortune hunting. I will give them that.”
Darcy could not disguise the disappointment he felt on hearing his worldly and perceptive cousin lay bare Elizabeth’s lack of romantic inclination towards him. They had shared moments of real feeling, of her grief and his own concerns, and while he could barely acknowledge he was in love, he had thought her own amity for him was obvious. And yet the picture Fitzwilliam had just presented was not inaccurate, and he must conclude that he had most likely mistaken friendliness for a more fervent attachment. Darcy looked away, mortified and now suspecting that the friendship he had built with Elizabeth and his own role during the area’s smallpox epidemic had not entirely overcome the poor first impression he had made.
He turned his horse back towards Netherfield, giving himself a moment to recover his composure, though his cousin soon pulled up alongside.
“I am sorry for your present unhappiness, Darcy, but consider: Is it not better this way? You have done nothing irretrievable. Come back to London with me after the holiday, and start looking for a lady who does not merely like you. Elizabeth Bennet will soon be forgot.”
Darcy narrowed his eyes at his cousin, experiencing a sudden aversion for the company of one he had favoured since they were boys together. He knew that when he had come to Hertfordshire, he had held many of the same views Fitzwilliam now voiced. But he had since seen much that was good in this neighbourhood he had earlier disdained, and likewise in a certain lady with whom he had not then wished to dance. In truth, it was not only his view of the local society which had altered; he felt himself to be a rather different man than he had been only weeks ago.
She may merely like me now,he thought,but that does not mean all hope is lost. Love can grow, and what better soil than friendship?
He would not say as much to his cousin, however, so he merely sighed and muttered, “I need a gallop,” before springing his horse.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
The Gardiners departedmere days after Christmas, and a great deal of liveliness and distraction left with them. The depths of winter can be trying to the spirits in the best of times, and even regular visits between Longbourn and Netherfield and the occasional calls by other friends could not do a great deal to dispel the melancholy which settled over Longbourn. Whilst Mr Bingley continued to pay attentions to Jane, Elizabeth found her happiness for her sister tempered by some confusion over the friendship she had established with Mr Darcy. She had seen his warmth and kindness, but with his gregarious cousin and eager sister in company, he now appeared content to sit quietly and almost apart during their visits.
He would watch with a little smile playing about the corners of his mouth as Miss Darcy spoke with the ladies of Longbourn, or with a faintly furrowed brow as Colonel Fitzwilliam made himself agreeable to them. He rarely spoke unless directly addressed, with Elizabeth herself the most likely to do so. She began to wonder if this reunion with his relations had made him wish to be among his own circle once more, and away from Hertfordshire.
But though his early silence had returned, his early hauteur had not. His reticence now carried an air of contemplation rather than arrogance, though upon what subject he felt the need to ponder for so many days together she could not imagine. It was worrisome, and vexing.
At the close of the first week of January, the inhabitants of Netherfield called to bid the Bennets farewell. Mr Bingley and Mrs Hurst hoped to return within a fortnight, although much of that would depend upon Miss Bingley, who had resumed her earlier practise of failing to answer their letters. Mr Darcy would re-join them at Netherfield also, though his business might take longer than Bingley’s. His cousin was to return to duty, and his sister to her studies, and there was no expectation on either side of a swift reunion in those quarters.
Miss Darcy asked the Miss Bennets if she might write to them, and was delighted by the positive response. Mrs Hurst, likewise, promised to write from London, though she smilingly cautioned that she could not have very much of interest to relate. “For packing up the things I left in town will be very dull even to me,” she concluded with a wry little smile. The townhouse was part of the estate, and the new heir, Hurst’s younger brother, wished to take up residence in the spring.
If asked, Elizabeth would deny that Mr Darcy’s farewell affected her more than the others’. She had begun to doubt he would come back with his friends, suspecting his seeming withdrawal to be in preparation for a more permanent separation. Yet when the moment came, he had bowed over her hand, giving her a searching look as he said, “I am sorry to go, and shall be happy to return. I hope very much our business will be completed quickly.”
