Miss Bingley started at the sight of Elizabeth, then colored. “Why, Eliza, I had not been informed that you were visiting the Darcys.” Her gaze swept the room, her brows lifting. “And Miss Darcy, sir? I do not see her. I had understood that Miss Eliza was quite a favorite of hers. Am I to understand that you have moved forward with your plan to engage Miss Bennet as a companion?”
Darcy’s expression hardened. “Charles must not have written that I offered my hand to Elizabeth. We were married this morning.”
Miss Bingley blanched. She reached for her sister, who took her arm to steady her.
Elizabeth gestured to a sofa. “Pray be seated. I shall order tea.”
Miss Bingley complied, though her eyes followed Elizabeth with a fixed intensity as she crossed the room to ring the bell. When Elizabeth returned, Miss Bingley addressed Darcy. “But you had intended to spend the season in London.”
“I had,” he replied, “but those plans altered when Elizabeth accepted my proposal. We depart for the north shortly and shall not remain for the season.”
The tea tray was brought in, and Elizabeth began to pour. When she offered Miss Bingley her cup, she observed the lady’s hand was trembling.
Turning to Mrs. Hurst, Elizabeth said, “Do you remain in town for the season, or do you travel to Mr. Hurst’s family?”
“We go to Warwickshire for Easter,” Mrs. Hurst replied. “His father wishes us to remain through the summer and harvest. He intends that Edwin should take a more active role in the estate.”
“And does Mr. Hurst favor the plan?”
“He does. He is not much given to conversation in company, but in the country, he is quite another creature.”
Miss Bingley sniffed. “The estate is remote, and the county is largely agricultural. Though Coventry offers some diversion, it cannot compare to London. I shall be quite buried there, without society or refinement.”
Darcy regarded her coolly. “It is fortunate, then, that you are not destined for Derbyshire. By your account, Pemberley would prove intolerably remote.”
Miss Bingley hastened to recover herself. “Sir, I would never speak so of Pemberley. I hold it in the highest esteem.”
“Compared with Coventry,” he returned, “Bakewell is but a small market town. You will find more society in Warwickshire than in Derbyshire. It is indeed fortunate you are not required to settle in the north.”
Elizabeth interposed, “Mrs. Hurst, have you spent much time in Coventry?”
Mrs. Hurst took up the subject readily, and the conversation continued until, at last, the ladies rose to depart.
Miss Bingley moved to Darcy’s side and slipped her arm within his, pressing herself against him with a familiarity that was far from modest. Elizabeth watched, standing very still.
Darcy was quick to disengage himself and crossed to Elizabeth, drawing her arm through his own. Together they stood as Higgins showed the ladies out.
When the door closed, Elizabeth remained silent, her eyes narrowed, fixed upon her husband.
He met her gaze calmly. “I shall instruct Higgins that we are not at home. He is to admit no callers.”
“Fitzwilliam, she makes a habit of pressing herself upon you as though she had a claim. Perhaps she means to convey that she would accept the role of your mistress.”
He drew back, displeased. “She was raised a gentlewoman.”
“Sir, I saw how she pressed herself against you, as though she meant to entice you.”
“I assure you, Elizabeth, she has no power to do so. I find her exceedingly disagreeable. Her character alone would deter any sensible man.”
Elizabeth’s expression eased, though her voice retained its edge. “Very well, sir. I shall not allow it to trouble me further. But hear me in this. She behaved in the same manner when we dined at Mr. Bingley’s house. If she attempts it again, I shall rebuke her.”
Darcy’s smile held a hint of mischief. “My dear Elizabeth, I should not object to such an assertion. I might then consider myself thoroughly claimed by the most beautiful and captivating woman of my acquaintance.”
He lowered his voice. “Come upstairs, my love, and show me, if you please, how much I signify to you.”
As they approached the staircase, Darcy lifted a hand to Higgins, who came forward at once. “Inform Cook that we shall dine in our private parlor. Our meal is to be sent up on trays, but not before half past eight. We shall dine late this evening.”
“Yes, sir.”
