“It does,” said Mr. Darcy.
“Then what is your opinion?”
Mr. Darcy paused and regarded her. Ahead, Jane and Mr. Bingley were still walking together in close conversation, oblivious to anything passing between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. They were nearing Longbourn again, likely for the best, as Elizabeth was becoming chilled. This conversation was interesting, and though Elizabeth did not like the man, she felt she might be sorry when it ended.
“My sister is the dearest person in the world to me, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy at length. “Ihaveconsidered the possibility of her making a match with my friend, but I have done nothing to promote it—I cannot say the same of Miss Bingley.”
“Oh, aye,” replied Elizabeth, glancing heavenward. “I can well imagine how Miss Bingley might have gone about promoting your sister to her brother.”
“Just so.” Mr. Darcy turned away. “Georgiana is yet sixteen, and as you will discover when she arrives, she is quite shy. For anything of that nature to develop, my sister must gain more maturity and come out. I want Georgiana to be happy—I shall not do anything to take that away from her, and that includespushing her toward my friend. Should it ever happen, I cannot imagine withholding my consent, though certain elements of the extended family will be most displeased. Georgiana’s wishes are more important.
“By the same token, I wish for Bingley’s happiness, not just his success in society. Position in Londonisa facet of that, but far more important to me are Bingley’s wishes.”
Elizabeth did not quite know what to make of Mr. Darcy’s speech. Though he had all but declared that he would not recommend his sister to Mr. Bingley, she still had the distinct impression that he did not favor Bingley’s pursuit of Jane. Unless she missed her guess, she still suspected he had come to Hertfordshire to do everything he could to prevent his friend from making what he would call a colossal mistake. The thought made her irritable, such that she spoke without considering her words.
“I dare say you would only be happy if Mr. Bingley married a duke’s daughter.”
Mr. Darcy’s displeasure appeared on his face. “I have not said that. For my friend, I have no other goal in mind than to ensure that he makes an informed choice.”
“And what informed choice would that be?” demanded Elizabeth. “The knowledge of the woman’s ancestry to twenty generations, a stupendous dowry, and your personal stamp of approval, I should think.”
“Do not put words in my mouth, Miss Elizabeth,” snapped Mr. Darcy. “I want only Bingley’s happiness—hewill decide what that is. However, I do not mean to allow him to make a match with a woman who will accept him for his position and income.”
“Then you need not worry,” replied Elizabeth. “Jane is not like that.”
“Perhaps she is not, but there are others who would chain Bingley to her this instant if they thought they could.”
“This is astonishing, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, not considering how their serious conversation had turned heated in an instant. “You have set yourself up as the gatekeeper for Mr. Bingley’s happiness.”
“Should I not? He is my friend.”
“Yet he is not your brother. Mr. Bingley is his own man and may make his own choices.”
“I never said he was not.”
“Yet you mean to ensure he will never propose to my sister.”
Mr. Darcy glared at her. “And you mean to ensure he is so ensnared that he can never wriggle free.”
“I want Jane’s happiness, Mr. Darcy. Much as you claim to wish for your friend.”
“It appears that our definitions of happiness are at odds, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Perhaps they are. But know this, I shall not allow some proud man who does not think the Bennets of Hertfordshire are good enough for his friend to dictate in what manner he will be happy.”
“And I shall not allow a family of grasping social climbers to latch onto him with their claws, never intending to release him.”
Elizabeth scoffed. By now, they had stopped in the middle of the path, Longbourn visible through the trees in the distance. Jane and Mr. Bingley had not noticed their argument, for they continued to walk. The sight reminded Elizabeth to keep her temper, keeping her tone even, though she longed to lash out at this man.
“As you already associate with a social climber, Mr. Darcy, you suppose you know one when you see one. Whatever you think, know that my sister is as angelic a woman as you will ever meet. Mr. Bingley sees that and values it—I have every confidence in his resilience.”
“We shall see, Miss Elizabeth.”
Then Mr. Darcy turned and stalked away, leaving Elizabeth to follow him. Within moments, Mr. Bingley indicated their need to depart, and the two gentlemen entered the carriage to return to Netherfield.
As she watched them go, Elizabeth seethed with discontent, now seeing something of the man’s purpose. Jane was not good enough for him. Mr. Darcy meant to do everything in his power to prevent Mr. Bingley from offering for her, caring nothing for the hearts he would be hurting in the process. Elizabeth’s opinion of him had never been so secure as it was now.
When the carriage was gone, they made their way back into the house, enduring Mrs. Bennet’s lamentations about the gentlemen’s departure and how she berated her daughters for not inviting them in. To Elizabeth, her mother’s cries of ill-usage were little more than noise to which she had no interest in paying attention.
