“Your sisters’ disapproval has been evident since your first visit,” Darcy observed, mounting his horse. “They have made no effort to disguise it.”
Bingley swung up beside him with the easy grace of a practised rider. “It would not matter whom I chose. If Caroline and Louisa did not select the lady themselves, they would object.” He turned to Darcy, eyes earnest. “But Jane—Miss Bennet—is worth it, you know.”
“She is,” Darcy agreed.
“She is an angel,” Bingley continued, his voice warm. “So gentle, so kind. And truly, she is a step above what might be expected for the son of a tradesman’s family. Modest dowry aside, she is the daughter of a gentleman.”
Darcy inclined his head, acknowledging the truth in Bingley’s words. “She is well-bred and gracious. And it is clear she cares for you.”
Bingley blinked. “Do you think so? She is always so serene. I can hardly tell what she is thinking.”
Darcy gave a rare huff of amusement. “Bingley, are you blind? She glows whenever you enter the room. I have seen her eyes light the moment you speak her name.”
Bingley’s expression softened, his gaze turning thoughtful as they rode along the lane, the trees arching overhead in a golden canopy of autumn leaves. “Do you truly believe so? Forgive me. I merely suffer with self-doubt. Why would she want me? A woman of her perfection could command an earl or another peer.”
“I would not say it if it were not true.” Darcy glanced at his friend, seeing the hope there, the quiet yearning. “She does not display her affections in the effusive manner you are accustomed to seeing in society, but her regard is evident to anyone who cares to look.”
Bingley let out a breath, the tension in his shoulders easing as he smiled, a genuine, joyful smile that lifted the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, Darcy. I—I needed to hear that.”
The conversation turned to lighter matters as they continued down the lane, the horses’ hooves muffled against the damp earth. But beneath the surface, Darcy felt the undercurrent of change. Bingley’s affection for Miss Bennet was deepening, solidifying into something that would soon be irrevocable.
And as they approached Longbourn’s gate, Darcy found himself strangely grateful that Bingley’s affections were returned with such quiet sincerity. For in a world where so many alliances were made for advantage and status, there was something reassuring in seeing two people find genuine regard for one another.
They dismounted, handing their reins to a waiting stable boy, and walked towards the house. Darcy drew in a deep breath, steeling himself. He had other matters weighing on his mind—questions that would not leave him—but for Bingley’s sake, he would set them aside for now. Today, he would watch, and he would listen, and perhaps find some measure of peace in the quiet certainty of his friend’s happiness.And maybe find answers of my own.
Darcy hoped to catch another glimpse of the boy whilst they were calling upon the ladies. It was an urgent feeling, a need to see that he had not imagined the other day. As Bingley rang the bell, Darcy fidgeted with his gloves, his impatience struggling to break forth. After what seemed an interminable amount of time, the butler, Mr Hill, opened the door and allowed them inside.
They handed off their things and made their way to the back parlour. It was a pleasant room and perfectly suited for the autumn and winter months. The windows were full west, which meant the occupants could take advantage of the sun’s warmth for longer during the day.
The ladies rose when they entered, and Miss Bennet went to Bingley’s side. He kissed the lady’s hand, and she invited them to sit.
“We were just about to call for tea,” she said, taking a seat next to her suitor. Darcy glanced around for a seat, taking one as close to Miss Elizabeth as possible. As they settled themselves, the two youngest girls vacated the room. Another sister sat at the piano. She looked to be of an age with Elizabeth.Which sister is she?he wondered.
Longbourn’s parlour was warm with the glow of late morning light filtering through the windows, the scent of rose water and autumn air mingling as Elizabeth poured for their guests. Jane sat near Mr Bingley, her gentle smiles and soft laughter drawing warmth into the room. Kitty and Lydia hovered near the door for a time, whispering and glancing towards the gentlemen with curious eyes, until their governessshooed them away. Mary eventually left the pianoforte and sat with a small book in her lap, though she watched the proceedings with quiet interest.
Elizabeth made small talk with Mr Darcy, asking after his sister, and to her mild surprise, he reciprocated, clearly surprised she had recalled that he had one, before inquiring politely about the health of the household and their impressions of the autumn weather thus far.
“It has been uncommonly mild,” Elizabeth said, setting down her cup, “though I find the leaves turning, regardless.”
“Indeed,” Mr Darcy replied. “Pemberley’s woods are a riot of colour by this time. My sister has always loved walking there during the autumn.”
Elizabeth smiled, trying to keep the conversation light, but she noted the careful reserve in Mr Darcy’s expression, as if he was weighing every word. After a moment of silence, he asked, “And your sisters, Miss Bennet? I trust they are well? Your brother too? I trust he was not too disappointed to return indoors the other day.”
The question was innocuous, polite, but Elizabeth felt herself grow more guarded, a subtle tension drawing her shoulders back. “They are well, I thank you. Mary—our studious sister—has been practicing the pianoforte diligently and has recently taken to studying astronomy. She feels quite accomplished in her reading and often shares her thoughts with us, especially on Sunday evenings. She sits there.” Elizabeth gestured to where her next in age sister sat. “She is old enough to be out but prefers to wait until Jane is married before fully engaging in society.”
Mr Darcy nodded, glancing briefly towards Mary, who looked up with mild interest before returning to her book.
“Kitty and Lydia are full of energy,” Elizabeth continued, her tone carefully cheerful. “They have been quite taken with walking to Meryton of late and visiting our Aunt Philips. Lydia has declared she will be the belle ofour little town when she comes out, whilst Kitty is determined to remake a new bonnet she purchased in the village.”
A small smile touched Mr Darcy’s lips. “And Miss Bennet?” he asked, nodding towards Jane, who was deep in quiet conversation with Bingley, her cheeks faintly pink with contentment.
Elizabeth’s expression softened. “Jane is our angel. She is kindness itself, always seeing the best in everyone. She has been helping our housekeeper with the management of the household since our mother passed, and she does so with patience and grace.”
Mr Darcy watched her closely. She noted his scrutiny, but would not capitulate to his unspoken enquiry. There was one sibling conspicuously unmentioned, and she deliberately left him out of it, hoping her companion would not ask after him anymore.
“And your brother?” Mr Darcy asked carefully, keeping his tone light.
So much for that.Elizabeth stilled, her fingers tightening around her teacup for the briefest moment before she set it down. Her gaze met his, cautious yet steady. “Forgive me,” she said, her voice soft, “my mother died giving birth. I am very protective.”
