Page 146 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

“So can grandeur,” Hurst said.

Louisa looked at him, but he continued eating. Caroline waited for Darcy to rebuke the remark or defend the distinctions of rank upon which he had once insisted. He did neither.

“Miss Elizabeth appears to have made a good impression,” Caroline said.

Georgiana glanced at Darcy. “She made a fair one.”

The answer carried his language, though not his caution, and Darcy’s face showed that he recognized it. Caroline understood then that Elizabeth’s influence had entered the one relationship she had hoped would protect him from it. Georgiana did not regard Elizabeth as an intruder. She regarded her as someone Darcy had misjudged and had shown enough courage to understand.

Caroline changed the subject, but the meal offered no relief. Bingley spoke of inviting the Bennets again, Anne asked whether Sarah might come to Netherfield, and Georgiana wanted to know which path Elizabeth used across the fields. Each question placed Longbourn nearer, while Darcy made no effort to restore the distance Caroline believed proper.

When the ladies rose, Caroline remained seated for a moment after the others had left the room. Darcy stood at end of the table with Bingley, and she heard Elizabeth’s name before Hurst’s chair scraped across the floor. Darcy did not lower his voice. That small absence of caution frightened her more than Lady Catherine’s defeat. He no longer protected his interest through silence, and no one at the table seemed surprised to hear Elizabeth discussed as part of his concern.

Later that evening, Caroline found Hurst alone in the library and gathered her shawl from the back of a chair. “Your wife has discovered principles.”

“I have long suspected she kept some hidden.”

“She intends to welcome Jane Bennet into the family and Elizabeth Bennet into Pemberley.”

“I doubt Louisa controls either door.”

“You see? This house has surrendered to country nonsense.”

Hurst looked toward the window. “The country remains outside. The nonsense has been in the house for weeks.”

Louisa covered a smile. Caroline saw it and understood that she was alone.

“Enjoy your victory.” She left the drawing room and went upstairs without waiting for a reply.

In her room, the maid had laid out her night things. Caroline dismissed her, locked the door, and stood before the mirror. Nothing in her reflection suggested defeat. Her dress, posture, and face still carried every advantage that had once seemed sufficient. She knew how to enter rooms with confidence, sustain conversation, judge rank, and avoid the errors that ruined women with less discipline.

Elizabeth possessed none of that training, yet Darcy chose to defend her.

Caroline removed one glove and placed it on the dressing table. The gesture reminded her of every small calculation she had made since arriving at Netherfield: where to sit, when to praise Georgiana, which book to open, how long to walk beside Darcy, and when to speak against Elizabeth without appearing threatened. None produced the result she deserved.

Perhaps Louisa was right that no one could choose whom they preferred.

Caroline sat at the writing table and drew a sheet of paper toward her, then stopped.

She had spent weeks trying to influence Darcy through conversation, familiarity, and every advantage Netherfield offered. None had been enough.

She folded the paper and set it aside.

Below, a door closed and Bingley’s voice crossed the hall. Georgiana answered him, followed by Anne’s quieter reply. Their ease in the house stung because it marked another change made without her consent. By tomorrow, Georgiana might ask to visit Longbourn and Darcy might accompany her. Elizabeth would receive them, and each meeting would make his preference harder to reverse.

Chapter 32

THE INVITATION FROM Netherfield arrived before breakfast ended.

Georgiana’s note asked Jane and Elizabeth to walk with her and Anne that morning, adding that Sarah was welcome if Elizabeth chose to bring her. Mrs. Bennet approved the visit before Elizabeth finished reading aloud.

“You must both go. Miss Darcy will speak of nothing else afterward, and Mr. Bingley will certainly be there. Wear the blue, Jane. No, the other blue. The one with the better sleeves.”

Jane folded her napkin. “We are walking across the fields, Mama.”

“Then you will not harm the sleeves.”

Elizabeth glanced toward Kitty, who had spoken little since Wickham’s conduct had begun to emerge. “Do you want to come?”