Mrs. Bennet’s eyes found Elizabeth, censure in their depths, but Elizabeth only turned a glare on Georgiana. The girl, clearly unrepentant, grinned at Elizabeth, then turned back to Kitty and Lydia. Nearby, the girls’ new companion, Mrs. Grant, kept a close eye on them, interjecting with an occasional comment or a pointed look when they overstepped.
“Perhaps you should allow your mother to do as she will,” commented Mr. Bennet, though in a low enough tone that only Elizabeth overheard. “If you do, you shall be married and wealthy, and your mother will have her long-sought-after security.”
“I beg your pardon, Papa,” said Elizabeth a little primly, “but you acted to support my independence when Mama wished to take it away. I shall not relinquish it now.”
“Of course, you will not,” murmured Mr. Bennet. Louder he said: “It is curious, however, that Mr. Bingley’s family has yet to appear.”
“I believe, Papa, that is by Mr. Bingley’s decree rather than any wish to stay away on their part.”
“Unsurprising,” said her father. “Miss Bingley is of a disposition that would not remain silent while her brother flouted her wishes.”
“I shall not say you are incorrect,” replied Elizabeth. “In this instance, Mr. Darcy tells me that he has acted more from concern for Mr. Darcy’s comfort than his own.”
This time, her father did not refrain from chuckling. “I cannot suppose that she would care at all for her brother’s prospects when confronted with the loss of her own ambitions.”
“You understand her well, Papa,” replied Elizabeth.
“It was not difficult. Anyone who cannot see her as mercenary is not looking.”
“Yes, I saw it myself.” Elizabeth shook her head. “The far greater concern in my mind is Mr. Darcy’s aunt.”
“Ah, yes, the infamous Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” Mirth danced in Mr. Bennet’s eyes. “Has he heard anything further from her? Perhaps we should have warned Sir William against speculating about Darcy’s intentions.”
“Not that he has informed me,” replied Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy’s injunction against contactingmeseems to have held, but Mr. Darcy worries she will journey here to make her sentiments known.”
“Perhaps his warnings have helped,” said Mr. Bennet. “But only after she sent you that one infamous missive.”
“It did not concern me,” said Elizabeth. “I spent six weeks in Lady Catherine’s company—I knew of what she was capable.”
“Have you had another letter from Mrs. Collins?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Even Mr. Collins understood the silliness of Lady Catherine’s charges of promoting a connection between us by inviting me to Hunsford, even though we had no notion of Mr. Darcy’s coming until not long before he arrived. Lady Catherine does not speak much to Mr. Collins now. Charlotte, of course, counts this as a blessing, but Mr. Collins is like a lost sheep.”
Mr. Bennet snorted. “It will do my cousin good to gain a little distance from Lady Catherine. Forever being tied to her apron strings will do him no good.”
“True,” said Elizabeth.
In time, Mr. Darcy moved closer to Elizabeth’s side, and Elizabeth could see at once that the gentleman had a purpose.
“Miss Elizabeth, shall we not walk out for a time?”
Elizabeth nodded. “That would be agreeable, Mr. Darcy.”
The warm spring had matured to a beautiful summer in the weeks since Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley had returned to Netherfield. It was Elizabeth’s favorite time of the year, as it allowed her the freedom to enjoy the outdoors, the light breeze stirring the foliage and the soft rustling it caused akin to the sweetest music. As the day was hot and the sun brilliant overhead, Elizabeth was grateful for the bonnet protecting her skin, when usually she deplored the necessity of wearing it.
By her side, Mr. Darcy walked with his hands behind his back, his manner introspective. Elizabeth could not help but wonder what he was thinking—to witness his friend’s happiness while his was yet unresolved could not be easy. Yet he gave no indication of this—no frown marred his face. The gentleman appeared at ease.
“Have you heard anything more from your aunt, Mr. Darcy?” asked Elizabeth, echoing her father’s earlier question.
“Nothing new, though I receive letters from her every day, or so it seems.” The gentleman paused. “My uncle has forbidden her from writing tohim, so tired has he become of her constant harping. If such a device were open to me, I would use it at once.”
“Lady Catherine will not listen to you,” observed Elizabeth.
The exasperated sigh told Elizabeth everything she needed to know. “Not when I am a mere nephew and naught but a gentleman. If the lady knew I do nothing more than skim her letters to learn if she means to journey here, she would be quite offended.”
“Yet you are not concerned about offending her.”
“Not at all.”
