Chapter Two

Darcy

30 th October 1811

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire

“S he is an attractive young lady, but there were many handsome young ladies at the ball,” Caroline Bingley remarked as she delicately raised her teacup and sipped. “Do you not agree, Mr Darcy?”

Darcy’s lips tightened at the corners, and he looked up, somewhat reluctantly. “I will admit that Miss Jane Bennet was certainly the prettiest young lady at the assembly last night, but beauty alone does not make a good match.”

“You and Darcy are in a confederacy of two, I see!” Bingley exclaimed, shaking his head as he took a large bite of his roll. The fresh bread split, and the generous spread of lemon curd stained the corners of his mouth.

“For heaven’s sake, Charles, do attend to yourself,” his sister, Mrs Hurst admonished, offering him a handkerchief, clucking her tongue. Caroline chuckled lightly.

“Sometimes I wonder if you are truly of an age to be worrying about marriage,” Caroline teased, a smile dancing on her lips.

“I am two-and-twenty, Caroline. That is certainly the correct age to be married,” Bingley replied with a hint of indignation, glancing at Darcy, who gave a slight nod of agreement.

“Indeed, indeed,” Darcy said with an air of nonchalance.

“I am quite surprised to hear you agree,” Caroline interjected, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “You are seven-and-twenty and yet unmarried yourself. Or has your status changed since last we met?” She laughed, knowing full well that it had not.

“I assure you, Miss Bingley, if I ever find myself in peril of matrimony, you shall be the first to know,” Darcy replied dryly, turning his attention back to Bingley, unwilling to engage Caroline further on the matter. He did not appreciate her remarks about his age, especially considering the pressure he was already under from both the Darcy and Fitzwilliam sides of his family to marry. The Fitzwilliam family, in particular, seemed thoroughly convinced that he ought to marry his cousin, Anne de Bourgh, a notion that had taken hold of everyone’s mind—except, of course, his own and that of his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.

How had the subject of his own marital prospects come to dominate the conversation? They had intended to speak with Bingley regarding his growing infatuation with Miss Jane Bennet.

Ever since the unfortunate Meryton assembly the week before, Bingley had met with Miss Bennet and spoken with her on two occasions in town, each time appearing more captivated by her charms.

“Do you not think it would be wonderful to invite her?” Bingley asked eagerly, his expression earnest.

Darcy blinked, slightly taken aback. “I beg your pardon, invite whom?”

“Miss Jane Bennet. I think it would be rather splendid.” Bingley turned to his sister, “You appeared to be quite fond of her.”

“As a friend, Charles. Not as a sister-in-law,” Caroline replied, rolling her eyes. “But if you insist, I shall extend an invitation.”

“Be sure not to invite any other member of her family. Especially the mother,” Mrs Hurst added, shaking her head. “I encountered Mrs Bennet at the Royal Mail office just yesterday. She was rather loud and uncouth, talking about some child lodger at their estate, loud enough for all to hear.”

“Quite dreadful,” Caroline agreed, while Bingley appeared blissfully ignorant of the less flattering aspects of the conversation.

At that moment, the butler entered the room, bowing slightly. “Excuse me, sir,” he said, drawing the attention of everyone present. “You have callers. Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet have arrived to see you.”

This news piqued Mrs Hurst’s interest. “The Bennet sisters? Here? And without invitation? How irregular,” she remarked, her brow arching slightly.

“Mr Bennet is also here, sir, but he has gone directly to the stables,” the butler added, causing Caroline’s eyebrow to rise even further.

“The stables, indeed!” Bingley exclaimed, getting to his feet. “If you will excuse me, I shall attend them directly.” He turned to Darcy. “Darcy, will you join me?”

Darcy rose, puzzled by Bingley’s request but suspecting that his friend hoped to improve his opinion of Miss Bennet through further interaction. Though he did not think ill of Miss Bennet—indeed, she was charming—he could not ignore the general coarseness of her family.

As they stepped into the hall, Darcy’s eyes fell not upon Jane Bennet, but upon her sister, Elizabeth, and a familiar sensation stirred in his chest. Her mother had tried to force him to dance with her at the assembly, and he had declined, making what he now realised was an ungracious comment about her being merely tolerable. It was a remark he had made more to avoid being pressed into conversation than as an accurate assessment of her character.

“Miss Bennet,” Bingley greeted Jane warmly, taking her hand and pressing it gently. “Miss Elizabeth,” he added with a smile, “I believe you have already been introduced to my friend, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy?” The two ladies curtsied, though Darcy noted that Elizabeth’s gaze narrowed slightly as she straightened.

“I recall, sir, from the assembly,” Elizabeth replied coolly, her lips barely curving into a smile.

“I had not expected you, Miss Bennet,” Bingley said, his enthusiasm returning. “Though my sister and I were just speaking of you, hoping you might join us for tea.”

“I should be delighted,” Jane replied graciously. Darcy observed her closely, attempting to discern whether her apparent interest in his friend was sincere or merely a reflection of his wealth. Miss Bennet was certainly affectionate in her manner, but he remained cautious. In a society filled with ambitious families eager to make advantageous matches, he found it wiser to assume the worst until proven otherwise. As Bingley’s elder and more experienced friend, Darcy felt a duty to protect him from any potential designs.

However, Elizabeth interrupted with an unexpectedly firm tone. “We are not here for a social call, Mr Bingley. We have come to make an enquiry about a child.”

Bingley’s smile faltered slightly, though he nodded politely. “I had heard that you had a young visitor.”

“Indeed,” Jane replied. “The poor child was found by my sister Elizabeth and her friend, in a most pitiable condition. We believe she may have fallen victim to a kidnapping or robbery attempt, though we cannot be certain.”

“You believe?” Darcy interjected. “Has the child not spoken of the matter?”

“She cannot speak,” Elizabeth said sharply, a tone Darcy found somewhat discomfiting. “She bears marks of harm and though we had her examined, there is no physical reason preventing her speech.”

“Thus far, we have only ascertained that she did not run away from her parents. The child understands us and can nod or shake her head,” Jane said.

“Have you summoned a physician?” Bingley asked with concern.

“No, the apothecary came and examined her. Mr Henry, our usual physician, is out of town,” Elizabeth added, her cheeks colouring slightly.

“There is no other physician at hand?” Darcy asked.

“There is,” Bingley said. “There is a Mr Thomas. I met him at the tavern when first we arrived at Netherfield. He lives in Westford.”

Darcy raised his hand. “I have business in Westford this afternoon. I can fetch Mr Thomas. It is no trouble.”

“Thank you, Mr Darcy,” Jane said with a genuine smile, while Elizabeth’s expression remained sceptical, as though she were attempting to discern whether Darcy had some ulterior motive behind his offer of assistance.

Darcy found her suspicion troubling. Why should she think so ill of him? He had spoken in less-than-kind terms at the assembly, certainly, but that was no excuse for her continued disdain. Still, rather than confront her directly, he decided it was best to act in the child’s interest.

“I trust you have spoken with the constable?” Darcy enquired.

“Yes,” Elizabeth replied. “He questioned the child, though, given her inability to speak and her apparent distress, he could glean very little from her. He has distributed a sketch of the girl in hopes of locating her family, but as yet, there has been no word.”

“It has only been a few days,” Jane added. “We remain hopeful that her parents will be found soon.”

“I see,” Bingley said thoughtfully. “And what is it that you require of us?”

“We had hoped that you might enquire amongst your servants, Mr Bingley,” Elizabeth said. “Some of them have only recently come to your service, and they may have heard of a missing child.”

“It is true, we have had new staff join us from town,” Bingley replied. “I shall ask them directly. Pray, describe the child so that I may relay the details.”

“She is about six years old,” Elizabeth replied. “She has blue eyes, dark brown hair, and is somewhat pale.”

“Does she appear to be of good breeding?” Darcy asked, earning a sharp look from Elizabeth.

“She is child, not a horse, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth responded icily.

Darcy stiffened at the rebuke. “Much can be observed in a person’s manners, Miss Elizabeth. One need not speak to reveal one’s upbringing. Does she appear well-educated? Does she exhibit the grace of a well-bred young lady, or does she—”

“Or does she slurp her soup and belch afterwards?” Elizabeth retorted, her sarcasm barely veiled. Bingley chuckled beside him, and even Jane seemed to suppress a smile.

“I am merely attempting to assist,” Darcy replied, his tone more measured, though he felt a twinge of irritation. “If my assistance is unwelcome, I shall take my leave.” And with that, he bowed curtly and excused himself from the room, leaving Bingley and the Bennet sisters behind.

As Darcy strode down the hall, he passed Caroline, who looked up from her embroidery. “I do not know what Charles sees in Miss Bennet,” she murmured. “She is agreeable enough to look at, but her family are intolerable.”

“I must agree,” Darcy replied, though part of him was unsettled by his own harshness. “The behaviour of her relations would reflect poorly upon Miss Bennet. She may care for Charles, but I cannot be certain.”

“Indeed,” Caroline said, lowering her voice. “We must intervene, Mr Darcy. We cannot allow Charles to make such a dreadful mistake as to court a young woman from such a family.”

Darcy’s first instinct was to agree, if only for the rudeness of Miss Bennet’s younger sister, but he reminded himself not to be hasty. “Let me observe the situation a little longer. Should I find that Miss Bennet’s affections are not genuine, we shall act accordingly.”

Caroline nodded, satisfied, and returned to her work, leaving Darcy to step to the window and look out to where the sisters were now walking towards the stable with Bingley, no doubt to find Mr Bennet who had evidently already gone that way.

“Impossible woman,” he muttered under his breath. And yet, as he watched her go, he had to admit, he rather liked her challenging nature. It was not often a young woman spoke up to a gentleman if she thought him wrong or rude. In the past, he might have thought this quite proper, but after seeing how his sister had been treated by Wickham, he wondered if she might have been spared this fate had she been able to stand up for herself as Miss Elizabeth had.

Taking a deep breath he turned and walked away, determined to chase any thought of the Bennet woman out of his head post haste.