Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
He remembered the quick intelligence of her expression, the readiness of her wit, and the animation that seemed to transform her features whenever she spoke with warmth. Her eyes – so often lively with amusement – could also flash with an energy that had taken him wholly by surprise.
He had witnessed it the previous evening.
The moment returned to him now with remarkable vividness: her standing in the library doorway, colour heightened, confronting Wickham without the least hesitation. The indignation in her voice had startled him at first. Yet the more he reflected upon it, the more that spirited defence had impressed him.
It was not merely boldness. There had been a sincerity in it – a refusal to remain silent where injustice was concerned – that he found… invigorating.
Darcy exhaled slowly and reached for his coffee.
He could not remember any lady of his acquaintance who had affected his thoughts in quite this manner.
Which, he told himself with some firmness, was reason enough to dismiss the matter altogether.
The door opened at that moment, and Bingley entered the room with an air of cheerfulness that seemed wholly undiminished by the previous evening’s exertions.
“Ah, Darcy! I feared I should find you already finished with breakfast.”
Darcy set down his cup.
“You are not late by any ordinary standard,” he replied.
Bingley laughed and seated himself opposite him.
“I must leave for London within the hour, so I thought it best not to delay too long.”
Darcy inclined his head. “I hope your business will not detain you.”
“Nor do I,” Bingley said. “Though I cannot imagine it will. A few days at most.”
He paused while a servant placed coffee before him, but his spirits were too lively to permit much attention to food.
“You saw Miss Bennet last night,” he said after a moment, unable to conceal the satisfaction in his voice.
“I did.”
“And what did you think of her?”
Darcy regarded him calmly. “I thought her very much the same as before.”
Bingley smiled, evidently content with the answer. “I believe I shall call at Longbourn as soon as I return.”
“That seems a very natural intention.”
Bingley leaned back in his chair, his expression suddenly thoughtful. “I mean to say I asked whether she would receive me if I called.”
“You did? I suppose you know what you are doing.”
“I think I do. Look, in plain terms, she is a gentleman’s daughter, while I am from trade. It is true she has not much fortune, but I have enough for both. I can support a family in comfort. If anything, I have always been good with money.
Darcy inclined his head. The remark only confirmed what he had already suspected.
“Darcy – there is something I wish to ask of you.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow slightly. “If it lies within my power.”
“I wonder whether you might look in on the Bennets while I am away. Only as a matter of civility, you understand. I should not like them to suppose that my departure means any neglect. I cannot trust my sisters to visit her.”
