“I make no claims to wisdom, merely to slightly more experience of being in love,” she answered with a smile.
* * *
“So! Jane, Mr Bingley, have you given any thought to when you shall marry?” Mr Bennet asked some days after the engagement had been made, a teasing smile on his face. “I had thought perhaps you might alight upon the first week of June.”
Mr Bingley did not look at all averse to that suggestion, but Jane dropped her eyes and said, “I should not wish to disrespect my mother by marrying the very moment my mourning is done.” Her betrothed strove manfully to conceal his disappointment. She looked at him with a little smile and said, “But I believe mid-June might suit.”
“Mama’s roses will be blooming by then!” Kitty exclaimed. “You might have some in your bouquet, or your hair.”
Jane looked at Bingley with a questioning expression. He smiled and shrugged. “Name the day, my love. I care only that we will be married.”
“Well, then,” Mr Bennet said. “We shall consult with Mr Edwards as soon as may be.”
“I must return to town to alter my will and have the settlements drawn up,” Mr Bingley said. Seeing Jane’s downcast expression, he added, “But not for a week or two. I am enjoying being an engaged man far too much to part from you so soon!”
CHAPTERTHIRTY
Hardly hadthe front door closed from Bingley’s return before he told Darcy of the date chosen for his wedding. “We are agreed that we shall be the happiest couple in England!” he added jovially, and proceeded to once again enumerate all of Miss Bennet’s fine qualities. As this allowed Darcy to sit back, nod occasionally, and contemplate Elizabeth, he had no objection to hearing his friend’s effusions.
The next day was sunny and warm, and as the inhabitants of Netherfield entertained Captain Carter’s visit, all the Bennet ladies arrived in their father’s carriage. “It is such a splendid day, Mr Bingley,” said Miss Lydia eagerly, “that we hoped you might allow us to walkyourgarden for a change of scenery.”
“I can think of nothing more delightful!” cried he, and within minutes they had chosen their walking partners and scattered throughout Netherfield’s vast formal garden. Miss Mary blushingly accepted the captain’s arm, and Miss Lydia walked with Georgiana, while Miss Catherine eagerly attached herself to Mrs Hurst, who she rather seemed to idolise. The engaged couple naturally grasped the opportunity of private conversation, leaving Darcy and Elizabeth to form the final pair, which suited them both.
“We were sorry not to see you yesterday,” Elizabeth began. “Mr Bingley said you had urgent business…I hope nothing has gone wrong?”
“I received expresses within the same hour from my man of business and Lady Catherine. I felt it best to answer them both with like speed. Mr Coulter wished me to know that he had word from theTimesand the morning post that engagement announcements naming me were received from the mother of the ‘bride’,” he replied, his offence and anger clear. “The editors of both contacted him for confirmation and were told the announcements were false. My aunt wrote to inform me that I could not evade the engagement now, for it would be published in today’s papers. I took great pleasure in writing to one in praise of a job well done, and to the other to inform her of the failure of her plans.”
Elizabeth frowned. “I can hardly believe she dared follow through with such a scheme. Had she no concern about marrying her daughter to a man who did not wish it? I should think that, if nothing else, would have stayed her hand.”
His lips compressed into a thin line. “Lady Catherine is not awash in maternal sentiment. In truth, I do not know if she is capable of caring for anyone save herself.” He shook his head and sighed. “I fear there will now be a permanent breach between us, which I cannot like despite her actions. She is my aunt, the sister of my mother. I did not wish for matters to come to such an end, but what could I do that would not offend her? Nothing but marry my cousin, which I would not.”
“If the right thing to do were always the easy thing to do, it would be a very different world,” Elizabeth mused, hugging his arm a little more tightly to herself for just a moment. “And I am not certain it would be a better one. You have acted as a gentleman should. You have protected your right to decide your own future, without exposing her duplicity to the censure of the world.”
He basked in her praise, and in the further lightening of the weight upon his mind for a moment, thinking how wonderful it would be to have her always by his side, there to laud, scold, or condole, as circumstances warranted. He gazed upon that beloved profile and ventured to ask, “Miss Elizabeth, have you happened to consider what we spoke of when I first learnt of her schemes?”
“I confess, I have thought of little else,” she said, averting her eyes. “I was very surprised, sir, and even now I can hardly credit it. I am entirely willing to know you better, but please, you must explain to me why, how, you came to think—”
“To admire you? To think you the most worthy woman of my acquaintance?” Her cheeks took on a most becoming tinge of pink, and the desire to continue to provoke such a reaction loosened his tongue. “I was early intrigued by your wit, your laughter, and your beautiful eyes. And how could I not admire the way you refused to be moved from your sister’s bedside, when many would be glad of any excuse to absent themselves from such toil and suffering? I found myself wishing for such devotion. And then, when Miss Bennet began to recover, and we were in company for more than a few moments at a time, I came to understand that there was no lady in the whole of my acquaintance whose society and conversation I preferred, or whose beauty so moved me.”
“I was not aware that you could be so loquacious in your admiration,” she said, her cheeks a lovely shade of rose.
“No other lady has prompted me to exercise my hidden talents.” He studied her for a moment. “Is there anything else you wish to know of me?”
She laughed lightly, her cheeks flushing a deeper red. “Of your character I have no doubts, but I have known you only as a guest in another man’s home. There is much I do not understand about your life and the society you move in, except that I suspect it would not easily admit someone of my background.”
“Is it London society that truly concerns you?”
“I concede that it is so,” she replied, abashed at having been seen through so easily.
“I shall not sport with your intelligence and claim that you would be welcomed with open arms,” he said seriously. “But the Darcy name hassomepower, and your own attributes will earn the approbation of those with the wit to see you clearly. I myself am not well-liked,” he admitted wryly, “only accepted for my name. You will not be surprised to hear that I should happily do nothing in London but conduct business and attend performances.”
She laughed softly. “No, that is no shock at all. But your position will not allow such a withdrawal, I think.”
“It will not. For my sister’s sake and that of the children I hope one day to have, connexions must be maintained. I believe that my uncle and aunt, the earl and countess of Matlock, would soon come to accept you, and their assistance in society would be more valuable to you than mine. With their help, I would expect you to be very quickly established. But even without them, I cannot imagine that you would not make a place for yourself, enchanting as you are.”
She looked away bashfully at this extravagant praise. “I think, sir, you are viewing me through the eyes of a suitor and not those of society.”
Darcy brightened as an idea struck him. “Mrs Annesley is in the business of preparing young ladies for that very milieu. Should you like to speak with her on the subject? I can certainly arrange it.”
