Caroline shrugged. “I have seen no particular mark of attention, although they often ride together. A well-situated widow should abjure all second attachments. Still, I ought not to mention it.” Caroline checked the clock, likely awaiting the return of the gentlemen. “A man of Mr Darcy’s situation and independence must marry, and a man of sense would prefer a... a younger woman than Hester Lanyon.”
The door then opened, and as the men advanced, Caroline immediately rose to help Miss Darcy with the tea and coffee. When this was done without any notice from Darcy, she offered to play, but this had an unintended result: whilst Caroline played on one side of the room, Darcy—rather than listen attentively—sat on the sofa in conversation with Mr Balfour and Mrs Lanyon about their father’s home and health.
Elizabeth might have spoken to Jane—if anyone could distract her from her confused thoughts, it would be she—but Bingley insisted that Jane join his conversation with Mr Utterson. Upon seeing Miss Darcy alone, Elizabeth took pains to know her.
“You have been praised by all of your friends and relations, I am afraid,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “It is an inauspicious start to our acquaintance, for how shall we fill the time? You cannot attempt to impress me if I already know all of your merits.”
Miss Darcy looked embarrassed. “I would never boast of my own talents.”
“No, you are too well bred for that, but good breeding does allow for aunts and brothers to boast on behalf of their beloved relation.”
“I suppose,” she said not unkindly.
“Lady Catherine once asked after your skill with the instrument in my presence, and your brother was quick with affectionate praise as, I suppose, all good brothers ought to be. I had no brother whilst growing up, so I can only guess if the practice is a common one.”
“Fitzwilliam is ever so good to me.”
Miss Darcy was not as quick to speak as her brother. She was very unlike Darcy: embarrassed, not assured, and there was not a tincture of hauteur about her. Elizabeth heard Darcy laugh at something Mr Balfour said; she turned to look in time to see him then ask a question of Mrs Lanyon. He was going out of his way to include her in his conversation. Darcy had the same noble bearing as she had previously seen from him, but he now had an easy manner.
Had it not been there before, or had I simply not seen it?
“I have been wanting to meet you.” Miss Darcy’s soft voice surprised her, and her face must have shown it because she added, “Fitzwilliam has spoken highly of you.”
Elizabeth had to suppose that any mention of her stopped after April. “Well, I guess if a man is particularly well bred, then he is allowed to extend his praises beyond his sister and to the sisters of his friends’ wives.”
Miss Darcy tilted her head in confusion. “He wrote and spoke ofyouspecifically, and before your sister married Mr Bingley.”
He cannot have spoken so since.“I am not insensible to such a compliment from Mr Darcy, but”—she forced a wide smile—“we must not waste our time discussing what others have said of us when we finally have the chance to find out for ourselves if we have been lied to.”
Miss Darcy gave a little laugh. “I see what he meant now. I think he admires your liveliness.”
“We shall be superlatively stupid if we cannot find something of substance to talk of! Are you often at Pemberley?”
“Every summer except for—I... am down for the summer months.”
Their eyes met, and Elizabeth saw all the shame and grief Miss Darcy was feeling.I wonder if she knows what her brother told me.Regardless if Miss Darcy was aware that she knew the extent of Wickham’s actions against her, she had to put the modest girl at her ease again.
“If you are not often at Pemberley, you cannot want to have all of these guests occupy your house.”
“It is my brother’s house,” she said plainly.
Elizabeth looked towards the sofa and saw Darcy watching them with a gentle smile on his face that she had seen him give her before. “I refuse to believe that Mr Darcy does not consider Pemberley your home. Tell me that he does not do all that he can to make you feel as much at home here as you felt when this was your father’s house.”
She turned pink and nodded. “He had a sitting room that I took a liking to at Christmas fitted up in a lighter style I prefer.”
“There! It is proved. Whatever can give you any pleasure is sure to be done, and he wishes for Pemberley to be your home.”
“Yes,” she agreed pleasantly. Elizabeth felt pity for a shy girl of sixteen who hardly felt at home in her own house and who now must share it with guests.
“I suppose, with your temperament, you cannot like to have so many people here,” Elizabeth said gently. “Friends or strangers, you must still always be dressing to appear in company or come into a room in a dishabille, or be as a prisoner in your own chamber to avoid us.”
Rather than laugh, Miss Darcy said only, “My brother is fond of good company.”
“He has not forced you to remain with us this evening, has he?”
“Oh no!” she cried. “He would never.” After a pause, during which it was clear Miss Darcy was deciding whether or not to speak, she said, “In fact, yesterday he said that whenever I found the company tiresome, I was to mount my horse and be gone.”
Elizabeth laughed, and Miss Darcy joined her. “See, he is a good brother! And when I find the company trying”—Elizabeth scarcely shifted her eyes to where Caroline played a duet with Louisa—“perhaps you will save me and join me on a walk on the grounds? I am no horsewoman, but I am an active walker. If we do not have a great deal of rain, I expect to walk the park often.”
