“Darcy! Welcome!” Bingley bounded down the stairs as Darcy climbed out of the carriage. “You have arrived early—I am very pleased. My sisters and Hurst are in their rooms, so you will not be assaulted the moment you walk into the parlour.”
“That is…pleasing.” Darcy smiled wryly, imagining Miss Bingley rushing to his side and claiming his attention. “I am very tired and intended to rest until tea this afternoon, anyway. Tell me, how have you enjoyed being master of an estate? The park looks well cared for—at least what I could see from the carriage windows.”
“Netherfield is wonderful. It is the largest estate in the area, you know, and clears four thousand pounds a year. The lease is very reasonable—I understand it stood empty for some time and the land manager negotiated a lower price to entice a new tenant.” Bingley gestured to the stairs, and they proceeded indoors. “My neighbours are lovely, too. Why, I have never met with more agreeable people in my life! There is not a night when I do not have an invitation.”
Darcy groaned inwardly. “Are we to be away every night of the week?” he asked.
“I know you do not favour company as much as I. Tonight there is an assembly—”
“An assembly? You cannot be serious. I have been in a carriage half the day already!” Darcy shook his head, already regretting his decision to be a houseguest when he still recovered from the trials of the summer.
“You are not averse to dancing. I have seen you do so at London balls. Why is this local gathering any different?” Bingley raised a challenging eyebrow. “Besides, I wish for you to meet Miss Bennet. We are courting—I spoke with her father only yesterday.”
“Your latest angel?” Darcy had to admit that his friend had never made his attentions to his other angels ‘official’ in the form of a formal courtship. That was primarily due to the fact that either he or one of the Bingley sisters pointed out some flaw or falseness in the lady. Darcy despised disguise of any sort. Dishonesty bred mistrust and caused havoc. He ought to know. Anne’s concealment had been just such a situation.
However, something seemed different this time. Still, he would needle his friend for a few moments, just to insure himself that Bingley had thought everything out thoroughly.
“Pray, do not judge so hastily. Miss Bennet is a gentle soul—there is not a deceptive bone in her body. I have measured her against every lady to which you have objected in the past. She is more genuine than all of them, more compassionate than all the ladies in London.” Bingley’s expression took on a dreamy look. “She is perfection, Darcy. Why, she has been the mistress of her father’s house for five years. And what better way is there to climb the ladder of society than by marrying a gentleman’s daughter?”
“Has she a fortune or connections?” Darcy’s blunt question made Bingley glower.
“What care I for either? I have fortune in abundance. And though my connections may not be as noble as yours, they have not brought me any lasting happiness—save for my friendship with you. For what it is worth, Miss Bennet’s dowry is modest. She has four sisters and a brother. Still, herfather has managed to save. I understand the ladies of the house are to have dowries of two thousand a piece.”
It was, indeed, a modest sum. But with five daughters to dower, that was expected. “The estate must not bring in more than two thousand a year,” he mused.
“It brings in more. I understand Mr Bennet began making improvements after the death of his wife. Longbourn brings in three thousand a year now.” Bingley looked proud, as if the accomplishment was his own. “Come, now, Darcy. Let us not argue. Tonight, you will meet Mr Bennet and his two eldest daughters. Miss Mary does not like to dance—a shame she will not attend. You might have liked her best of the party.”
They chuckled, and Bingley showed Darcy to his room, having claimed the honour from the housekeeper. “I asked Mrs Nicholls to put you in the guest wing—I hope you do not mind. It is on the opposite end of the house from Caroline.”
“I appreciate your forethought.” Miss Bingley’s persistence in pursuing Darcy rankled. He thought he had made it clear an abundance of times that he had no interest in making her the next mistress of Pemberley. She seemed to take his avoidance as a sign of his impending proposal. How she could see it that way was unfathomable.
The room where he would stay was handsomely appointed. It overlooked the formal gardens and was decorated in shades of green and blue. The bed was large and comfortable looking. There was a writing table near the window, and a pair of armchairs near the fire. “This is wonderful,” he murmured.
“I thought you might like it. If Fitzwilliam comes, then his room will be the adjoining one through that door.” He gestured to the place on the far wall. “Will he and your sister join us?”
“Richard will, but Georgiana has decided to remain at Pemberley. Linden Grange is not far from here—ten miles, perhaps. He must see to estate business before he joins us.”
“An easy distance. We are practically neighbours. How does your cousin like being a landowner?” Bingley settled into a chair and crossed his legs.
“He was tempted to stay in the military until he achieved the rank of colonel, but my aunt persuaded him to sell his commission.” Darcy shuddered inwardly at the thought of what might have happened if his cousin had not sold out. Richard might have died in any one of the numerous battles that had raged on the continent. “His estate is profitable, and its income has increased in the five years he has been master. Richard has started breeding horses.”
“Oh? Any good stock?” Bingley looked interested. “I need a new hunter.”
“You purchased Odin only last year!” Darcy shook his head.
“I wish to expand my stables.” Bingley shrugged and stood. “I shall still have less than you, and I can well afford to have more animals if I wish. Now, I shall leave you to your rest. Will you join us for tea?”
“Yes, I shall. Thank you.” Bingley departed, leaving Darcy alone. His valet appeared a few moments later. He had unpacked his master’s trunks in a small dressing room that adjoined the main chamber. A quick look showed Darcy that the room also contained a bath.
Exhausted, he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, hoping he would awake refreshed.
Miss Bingley’s attentions began the moment Darcy entered the parlour for tea. She rattled away about the latest gossip, saying nothing of depth and offering nothing of interest. He ignored her as much as was polite, offering only one-word answers to her queries.
Later that evening, she paraded before him in a garishly overadorned gown, coming close enough that the feathers in her hair tickled his nose. The lady had taken her time preparing for the evening and came downstairs a full twenty minutes after their intended departure. Her tardiness had Bingley pacing impatiently.
“Confound it, Caroline! The next time you delay, we shall depart without you.” Bingley put on his hat and strode out without another word.
“Do not mind my brother, Mr Darcy.” Miss Bingley looped her arm through his. “He is impatient to see his…Miss Barnet, I believe.”
