Miss Elizabeth,
I hope you will forgive the liberty I take in writing. How fortunate it is that you are second in the line of daughters. It is a privilege that I can call you by your first name… but I digress.
I shall not have the pleasure of waiting upon you at my earliest hour today as I would wish. After such a lovely invitation from your sister (well, it is partly true), I asked my sister to join me here. Georgiana is to arrive at Netherfield near noon. If it meets with your family’s convenience, I would wish to introduce her to you, and should therefore attend at Longbourn later in the day.
I remain, &c.,
F. Darcy
Elizabeth read the note through once, and then again more slowly.
There was nothing in it beyond what was proper, yet the implication was not lost on her.
He wished Georgiana to meet her. A faint colour rose to her cheeks.
“From whom is it, Lizzy?” asked Mrs. Bennet, who had been observing her with growing curiosity.
Elizabeth folded the note with care. “From Mr. Darcy, Mama. He will not call this morning.”
Mrs. Bennet looked disappointed. “Not call? After yesterday!”
“He expects his sister,” Elizabeth continued, with studied composure. “Miss Darcy is to arrive at Netherfield, and he hopes to bring her with him later, if it is agreeable.”
“Really?” Lydia asked.
“You invited her after all.”
Mrs. Bennet stared at her. “Bring her here?”
“If it suits us.”
“My dear Lizzy!” she exclaimed. “Of course it suits us! What a question. Miss Darcy! And to come here! Oh, we must be prepared. Jane, my love, Kitty, Lydia! We must have everything in order. The room must be set – no, the other room – the larger one – and we shall have something proper for the afternoon – though what can be proper enough, I am sure I do not know…”
Elizabeth, though unable to suppress a smile, left her mother to her arrangements.
She was beginning to learn that Mr. Darcy did nothing in half measures. But she would lie to herself if it was not flattering. She looked at the bouquet he had brought on the circular table. She had taken a single rose upstairs, in her room.
Elizabeth did not immediately quit the room. She lingered a moment longer near the window, the note still in her hand, though she no longer read it.
To be introduced to his sister… The thought returned with greater weight now that she allowed herself to consider it.
It was not just civility. It could not be so understood.
Miss Darcy was not in the habit of being presented indiscriminately; and that Mr. Darcy should wish it – should arrange it with such readiness – spoke of an intention which, however lightly expressed, admitted of very little uncertainty.
He had to write to her by the beginning of the week.
Elizabeth felt again that quiet warmth which had risen upon first reading the note, though it was now tempered with something else.
She was not, she told herself, a person to be hurried into conclusions. Yet she could not be wholly indifferent to the manner in which he pursued them.
The house, meanwhile, had already begun to stir into unusual activity.
Mrs. Bennet’s voice was heard in the passage, issuing directions with increasing urgency; a servant was dispatched, another recalled, and a third made to stand still long enough to be instructed twice over. Lydia declared that nothing short of a grander arrangement than any previously attempted would suffice for such an occasion; Kitty agreed, though she could not say precisely in what it should consist.
Jane, as ever, sought to moderate. “We must not appear as though we were expecting too much,” she said gently. “It is only a morning visit.”
“A morning visit!” Lydia repeated. “When Miss Darcy comes! I am determined she shall not think us dull.”
