Mr. Gardiner grinned at Elizabeth. “But not unwelcome, I will warrant. The Fitzwilliamsarea product of their level of society—I cannot imagine they would not esteem you in time, but my testimony has gone a long way to smooth your path. Not that I would accept any of the credit, of course.”
Elizabeth laughed and allowed it to be so, then sat and joined her family. Having left Mr. Darcy a short time before upon their return to the house, she knew he had received word of the imminent fulfillment of the matter they had discussed before leaving Hertfordshire. The gentleman was just as eager as she was, though his reasons were slightly different.
The Gardiner children were out in the park near the lake at Pemberley’s front entrance enjoying a picnic, a deliberate attempt to remove them from the crossfire. Since their arrival more than a week earlier, they had enjoyed the run of the house, proving their good manners, as their mother rarely reprimanded them for their exuberance. Still, young children must accumulate excess energy, requiring the ability to run. Their nursemaids were seeing to that task now, knowing they would only be in the way if they were present in the house.
The presence of the Gardiner children also gave Elizabeth more than a little insight into the master of the house and his cousin. Finding the two of them with James and Benjamin, her little cousins, setting Mr. Darcy’s extensive collection of toy soldiers, only to undo their work in minutes when they engaged in titanic battles were becoming commonplace. And they did not neglect the two girls either, for little Sophie and, especially, Abigail, the eldest of the siblings, regarded them with awe, her infatuation with Mr. Darcy endearing.
In high society, Elizabeth knew the custom was to consign children to the care of tutors, nursemaids, and governesses, and bring the children out for special occasions or to show them to visitors before sending them away. That Mr. Darcy took such an interest in the children informed Elizabeth that he would not be such a father, which provoked a greater measure of esteem.
“I have my parents’ example to guide me,” said Mr. Darcy when Elizabeth made this observation to him. “My mother and father were active participants in my childhood—I have always enjoyed the company of children, for I find they are more open and honest than adults.”
Elizabeth could not disagree with his assessment. It heartened her to know that they thought alike on this subject, for it boded well for their future together. This led them to that day, which would be contentious and a trial of Elizabeth’s patience, for all they had largely existed in harmony since arriving in Derbyshire. It could not be helped, for there was little Elizabeth would not endure for her family’s sake.
As if Elizabeth’s ruminations at presence provoked her, she looked to the one member of the party to whom she had not yet spoken. Jane sat near her mother, outwardly calm, but to those who knew her, the tension in her face and form left nothing to the imagination. Despite Mr. Darcy’s assurances, Elizabeth’s attempts to bolster Jane’s courage, and the family’s support, Jane was nervous, as well she might be. Elizabeth had no concerns for her sister’s happiness—her concerns rested on Mr. Bingley and how his family might seek to ruin it.
The door opened at that moment and those within the room all looked up, to see Colonel Fitzwilliam entering the room. The gentleman responded with a mock bow, his grin all that was knowing.
“I apologize, for I am not who you expected. I have it on good authority they will arrive soon.”
Then he took himself and sat by Jane’s side, a jest or two issuing from his lips, restoring some of her good humor, though her nervousness never faded. Elizabeth watched him, grateful for his actions. For some time after they had arrived at Pemberley, she had wondered if Colonel Fitzwilliam intended to vie with Mr. Bingley for Jane’s hand. It had become clear to them all that he esteemed her, but he took no steps to raise himself in her regard. Elizabeth suspected this was in part because he recognized her focus on Mr. Bingley, and also because of his oft-stated jest about needing to marry a woman with a substantial fortune of her own.
At that moment, Elizabeth’s contemplations halted because of the interruption of approaching footsteps in the hall outside the door, accompanied by the indistinct murmur of conversation. The moment, it seemed, was at hand. When the door opened, Mr. Darcy led his newest guests into the room, a party of four, comprising Mr. Bingley, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, and Miss Bingley. Whereas the lead gentleman betrayed nothing other than eagerness, his companions were a mix of other emotions, including misgiving from Mrs. Hurst, amusement from her husband, and Miss Bingley’s frustrated anger.
With the rest of the family, Elizabeth rose to welcome the newcomers, watching Mr. Bingley and seeing how his eyes alighted at once on Jane. It was as if a stiff breeze had cleared the clouds on an overcast day, for any tension eased, and he grinned at the sight of her. Jane’s primary response was the relief of slumped shoulders and a quiet exhalation of breath. The two had communicated with a look, and now all would be well.
“I believe you are all known to one another,” said Mr. Darcy, regarding his friend with fondness.
“Unfortunately,” muttered Miss Bingley, a comment heard by all the room.
While the younger girls frowned at the woman’s obvious rudeness, no one compounded her error by speaking of it. Those newly arrived bowed and curtseyed, murmuring their pleasure—though Miss Bingley’s curtsey was hardly noticeable and her pleasure nonexistent—those already present returning the gesture as politeness dictated. Mr. Darcy stepped forward and, belying his previous statement, introduced the Gardiners to Mr. Bingley and the Hursts, then allowed his friend to take over the conversation.
“How excellent it is to see you all!” exclaimed Mr. Bingley the moment he rose from his bow. “It is less than a surprise since I have known about it for several weeks now. I will own that I was no less than shocked when Darcy requested the use of Netherfield, though I believe he did not stay long.”
“Only a few days, Bingley,” replied his friend. “Soon thereafter we decamped for Pemberley and have been here ever since.”
“So I understand,” said Mr. Bingley. “And here we all are. For my part, I am delighted.”
“Perhapsyouare not shocked,” said Miss Bingley when her brother appeared ready to make for Jane’s side at once, “but I cannot say I have yet recovered. Mr. Darcy, receiving the Bennets—of all people—at Pemberley, and this after we all understood his opinion of them.”
Miss Bingley turned a critical eye on Elizabeth. “Miss Eliza, I can seeyouare here too. What a coup you have managed, for I cannot find you tolerable, or any more tempting than you were in November.”
The lady’s misstep provoked no little mirth from those present, including her brother-in-law who appeared to be savoring the ridiculousness of it all. In this, Elizabeth noted, he was much like her father, and a glance that passed between them furthered this opinion. The rest of the company had the good sense to remain silent and allow Miss Bingley to dig her hole deeper.
Speaking to make one’s host appear ridiculous was not the wisest way to go about informing others of one’s displeasure, but then again, Elizabeth had expected no restraint from the woman. Rather than take offense, which Elizabeth would not do, caring nothing for this woman’s opinion, she arched an eyebrow and fixed Miss Bingley with a mysterious smile. The woman did not appreciate the sentiment, given the fury that settled over her countenance.
“Hold your tongue, Caroline!” spat Mr. Bingley.
“Why?” asked she. “Did I say anything that was not true?”
“Whatever Mr. Darcy’s initial opinion,” interjected Mrs. Bennet, “it is clear he enjoys Lizzy’s companyverywell now. Had you been here these past weeks, you would have no doubt of it.”
Miss Bingley’s jaw worked in anger. “This is a disgrace. How you could have seen fit to pollute the very stones of your estate withthisfamily’s presence I cannot say, for I thought you possessed of more nobility of character, Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth looked to Mr. Darcy and burst out laughing, the gentleman joining her. “That is so likeanotherrecent visitor charged that I wonder if you corresponded with her,” said Mr. Darcy. “Though you would probably appreciate the comparison, we would not mean it with any pretense at a compliment.”
It was clear they had confused Miss Bingley, though her anger never dimmed. When she opened her mouth to speak, her brother neatly cut her off.
“We are not so far away from Scarborough that I cannot return you to Aunt Esther.”
