“Yes—more than that, it is an urge. I am searching for a wife.”
∞∞∞
Later that night, while driving Bingley home, Darcy tried to discover his friend’s state of mind…and heart. They had been in one another’s company quite a lot, but usually it had been impossible to talk. Georgiana was staying for the night at Matlock House, so they were alone in the carriage.
“You danced frequently!” Darcy said, smiling, inviting him to share confidences.
“Yes, but I am not at all tired. Is that not strange?”
“Well, when you enjoy an activity, it is rarely tiresome.”
“I cannot say I did not enjoy it, but…I speak of the dancing and not of the ladies.”
As Darcy remained silent, he continued. “I enjoy dancing. I always have. It is my nature, and when I dance, I usually tend not to observe my partner—”
But that had not been true with Miss Bennet. With her, his pleasure in dancing had been elevated by her nearness. But he did not wish to open such a subject. He thought of her more and more—not as desperately as he had during the first month, but with some hope. This time, however, he resolved to be cautious and not allow anyone to know what he was thinking, especially Darcy or his sisters. He had decided to allow some time to pass and then make a decision—following his own feelings, not those of the people around him.
But his hesitation did not pass unnoticed. Darcy was observant and knew his friend too well not to understand his dilemma. And he was glad for Bingley that he was on the verge of deciding for himself. He still did not think that marrying into the Bennet family was a good thing, but lately, he was the last person to give advice. More and more, he was on the verge of admittingthat the only young woman he truly liked was Elizabeth. How could he tell Bingley not to marry Miss Bennet when he himself was thinking of Miss Elizabeth? During the last two months, he had looked carefully at every young woman he met, and no one had made a better impression upon him than Elizabeth. Their relationship was strange and complicated, as they mostly contended when they were together. Yet that very opposition interested him. She was not impressed by his wealth, and during their meetings, she never showed any interest in him as a man. She was determined not to marry for wealth and cared little for her mother’s advice or ambitions.
“Your cousin Miss de Bourgh was surprisingly enchanting,” Bingley said. “I found her shy, but happy about the event at court. I hope she will marry and make a life for herself at some distance from her mother.”
Darcy smiled in the darkness. Bingley was agreeable, even in casual conversation; it was his nature.
“Yes, she made some progress under the guidance of Lady Wharton and my aunt, and I hope she will not return to the way she was. You could marry her,” Darcy said without malice. Surprisingly, the little elf and his friend who lived in the clouds might suit one another.
“In other times, I might have considered that option. None of the other ladies—except Miss Darcy—aroused my attention.”
“What are you saying?” Darcy asked, startled. “Georgiana is still a child!”
“No, my friend, Miss Darcy is a young lady already presented at court, who may now marry. Exactly like Miss de Bourgh.”
Darcy sat quietly in his corner. It was a shock to him that his friend—or any other man—could consider his sister as apossible wife. But the truth was before him: she had danced all night with the most eligible young men in London.
Yet, he had to admit that Georgiana was no longer his little sister, but a young lady. He felt that painful sensation all parents experience when their children begin lives of their own. He disliked the thought, but Bingley had been right. Georgie was about to fly away from him.
And—indeed—he needed a wife more than ever.
Chapter 4
More than once, in the stillness of the library, Darcy reflected upon his present life. At other times, he would have avoided parties and balls in London, reluctant to meet new people or seek amusement. He knew everything about the life of London society. Still, of late, all he desired was to spend as much time as possible with Georgiana. He accompanied her to the theatre or to family dinners, and he listened to her play the pianoforte almost every day, admiring both her talent and her wish to improve.
He allowed her to settle the list of guests for the dinners they organised, and sometimes they spoke of the people they knew in terms different from those they had once employed.
“I do not understand why we must invite Mr Bingley’s sisters,” she said, and then reddened.
“You are blushing,” Darcy observed with a mild smile, before adding, in a tone of gentle raillery, “so I need not scold you. At times, we must do what we do not enjoy. I was a guest at Netherfield, and it is only proper to invite his family to dinner.”
“But Netherfield is rented by Mr Bingley not his sisters.”
“Yes, and it is an act of courtesy towards him.”
“His sisters are the greatest gossips I have ever known.”
“Well, my dear, you must remain near Miss Bingley and exercise your patience,” he said, smiling again. To be near Caroline Bingley might well be a punishment. Still, on this occasion the two sisters might also prove a source of information.
Later that evening, while discussing the day, the colonel began, almost by chance: “Miss Bingley told me that Charles intends to go to Netherfield and decide whether to continue leasing the place. It seemed they were in touch with someone in Hertfordshire.” He paused before continuing. “If I understood correctly, one of the Bennet sisters is in Hunsford, visiting the parsonage.”
“Who?” asked Darcy, in spite of himself and of his resolve.
