“Just about every gentleman I have ever encountered,” Elizabeth muttered wryly. She was almost certain there was nothing to it but a polite call after a pleasant evening.
Despite her vehement protests, she was joyous until the next morning, when Kitty hastened to the window at the sound of approaching carriage wheels. “It is Mr Bingley and his pompous friend from yesterday.”
This information burst a dam amongst the Bennet sisters. A great uproar of shouted agreement and dissent followed until Longbourn’s parlour was yet again presentable to the exalted guests. The voices faded, and a lull ensued until the callers were announced by Mrs Hill.
What a fortunate event that Mrs Bennet was visiting Mrs Phillips. Elizabeth’s mother had made a good impression the previous day, curbed by the presence of Lady Lucas, but in the absence of her calming grandmother Bennet, her easily excitable mother would not fail to embarrass. She smoothed her skirts in expectation that Mr Darcy would single her out to the exclusion of all others as he had done before, and true enough, he was walking directly towards her when something about Mary caught his attention.
“Miss Mary, is that Fordyce’s Sermons you are reading?”
“It is,” Mary, who prided herself upon the solidity of her reflections, confirmed with an element of self-importance at being thus consulted.
“My sister, Georgiana, is but sixteen, and I was wondering whether you would recommend it to a young girl with an impressible mind?”
“Most certainly,” Mary hastened to approve and opened the book on a well-worn page. “‘For the soul, says Solomon. To be without knowledge is not good. Of so great a defect do we not see every day the unhappy consequences in both sexes?’
“It is vital to improve one’s mind by extensive reading,” Mary continued.
Mr Darcy agreed with an expression of great seriousness, quite the opposite of what Elizabeth had become accustomed to regarding the gentleman. Mary took his silent agreement as an invitation to continue her lecture, and Elizabeth had not the heart to interfere when she regarded the unmitigated expression of pleasure that spread across her sister’s countenance. She read very well and her voice was pleasant.
“‘With regard to yours, my beloved sisters, I am willing to impute much of the folly and misery that involve multitudes of women, not to their being altogether unacquainted with the main outlines of their duty, traced by the hand of God on every heart a little more or a little less clearly; but to their want of that relish for knowledge, and of those attainments in it, which certainly tend to exclude many temptations, and to fortify against the influence of others. On this account, I must again and again prompt the culture of your minds. Your virtue, your sobriety is intimately concerned in it. That shall be my first argument: its connexion with your dignity or figure in life shall be my second; and my third shall turn on its usefulness to promote your comfort and felicity. Considerations surely that merit your attention. I pray God bless them for your improvement.’”
After this long speech, Elizabeth could no longer pay attention to Mary, who prattled on about something of the advantage of accomplishments and the danger of pleasure and amusements. She was hoping that her sister would soon tire of preaching and allow Mr Darcy to greet the rest of the family—her to be exact.
“I declare the weather is uncommonly pleasing,” Mr Bingley remarked when Mary paused her oration to turn the page.
Elizabeth looked out of the window at the overcast sky before smirking at Mr Bingley, who continued, “Is it not a charming prospect to take a stroll in the garden?”
Elizabeth agreed with alacrity, Jane nodded her consent, and Mr Darcy made his excuses to Mary with a promise to resume their conversation at the next opportunity. After donning warm attire, the two couples naturally separated; Mr Bingley and Jane walked in eager exuberance, whilst Mr Darcy and Elizabeth strolled leisurely, falling farther and farther behind.
“I cannot help but notice the marked attention you have bestowed upon us poor Bennets these last three days.”
“You intrigue me,” Mr Darcy admitted whilst looking slightly amused and darkly pleased, seeming to speak in earnest.
Elizabeth’s feet were as light as feathers. She rejoiced at being thus singled out as she studied Mr Darcy’s strong profile. When he suddenly turned, she was caught ogling and lowered her head to conceal her blush. They continued in silence for half a circuit about the house, but the quietude was by no means uncomfortable.
“Tell me about your sister,” Elizabeth asked after being reminded of her existence by Mary glancing out of the parlour window.
“Georgiana is more than ten years my junior and turned sixteen in January. She is very accomplished and plays the pianoforte particularly well, but she is also shy and prefers not to perform before those she is not intimately acquainted with.”
A quick calculation revealed that Mr Darcy was upwards of seven-and-twenty, and at a marriageable age.
“It sounds like Miss Darcy only needs a bit of liveliness in her life, and a slight measure of fortitude can do no harm.”
Mr Darcy looked at her and smiled. “I suppose not, though not so much as to make her wilful.”
By what he had related about Miss Darcy, it did not sound as if she was in any danger of becoming too headstrong, but as she did not know the girl, she chose to change the subject.
“Are you attending the Lucases’ dinner party tomorrow?”
“Yes. The entire Netherfield party is invited.”
“How very fortunate because so are the Bennets.”
Mr Darcy grinned. “Very fortunate, indeed, because I cannot in good conscience keep you out here much longer. You are shivering.”
As much as she wanted to deny it or even suggest they walk faster to keep warm, Elizabeth agreed. Besides, who was she to gainsay his solicitousness. It spoke very well of him.
After the pleasant stroll, the gentlemen called for their carriage with a promise of yet again enjoying the ladies’ company at Lucas Lodge on the morrow.
