Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

E lizabeth and Jane entered Netherfield’s grand entrance hall in readiness for their departure early the next morning; in spite of the early hour, Elizabeth expected that at least Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst would be waiting there to see them off—if not Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy, as well. Somewhat to her surprise, the hall was empty except for a footman, blocking the open doorway and gawping at whatever he saw beyond it.

Elizabeth cleared her throat, and he whirled quickly back to the ladies.

“Eh, excuse me, miss. Someone’s come, and Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy went out to see.”

Elizabeth peered out, and the footman’s interest became understandable; in the drive was a tall, gleaming, high-perch phaeton, complete with brass rails and burgundy leather—a vehicle little seen in the country. Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley were speaking to the driver, who had yet to dismount; Mr Darcy, she noticed, did not look pleased. She heard the words ‘availing yourself of my vehicle’ drift towards her before his voice lowered. The phaeton, evidently, was his—but who was its driver?

There was one way to find out. “Come, Jane,” she said. “Perhaps we are returning to Longbourn in style.”

The gentleman who hopped down from the vehicle was about thirty, and grinned at Mr Darcy in response to his remonstrations for borrowing a vehicle so ill-suited to country roads. He turned to the ladies expectantly, and she saw that his attention was especially drawn to Jane. This, of course, was not unusual; Jane was extraordinarily beautiful. Perhaps it was her imagination that there was something coolly analytical in his gaze.

Mr Darcy performed the introductions, making them known to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. His obvious surprise when she was introduced as Elizabeth Bennet almost made her smile; clearly, he had picked Jane to be Mr Darcy’s soon-to-be bride. He was all politeness, but that same measuring glance was now turned upon her…and she felt his dissatisfaction in the comparison.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, bowing. He did not sound pleased.

At that moment, Mr Bingley’s carriage drew round; there was some bustle as a servant emerged from the house with the trunk of Bennet belongings, and Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley finally joined them to offer their farewells.

Mr Darcy himself handed Jane and then Elizabeth into the carriage, but otherwise showed no particular emotion. If she had had to guess, she would have called him distracted .

Unsurprising, I suppose. He must now face a discontented family member. A curl of nerves slid into her belly, but just before he closed the door, he reached in and quickly squeezed her gloved hands where they were folded upon her lap.

Then he shut the door, and the carriage was promptly on its way. Through the carriage window, she watched the party of five unsmiling persons grow smaller and smaller in the distance.

She was not reassured.

“I could understand, I suppose, had you wanted the pretty one,” Fitzwilliam said, lighting his cheroot. “Although, since speaking with Bingley, I understand he feels he has some prior claim upon her. Miss Bennet, at least, would bring something to the marriage in the way of handsome children. But the other…”

Darcy went to the library window and drew up the sash against the cloying smoke of the cheroot—and against his own temper. “I find Miss Elizabeth extraordinarily beautiful,” he said woodenly.

I, too, did not find her so lovely upon first glance , he reminded himself, resisting the urge to snarl at his cousin.

“Tell me truthfully, Darcy. Did you seduce her? Is this some sort of guilt offering? Because if so, I am sure a generous sum would do just as well.”

Darcy whirled. “Shut your filthy mouth,” he said through clenched teeth. “You are so far from the truth that I wonder at the functioning of your brain. I am no seducer of innocents. ”

Fitzwilliam held up his hands in a conciliatory manner, smiling. “I meant no insult. I am trying to understand. I received an express last night filled with words so unlike your own, I was alarmed. To hear that some impoverished girl you met a couple of months ago and with whom you have been in close company for a few days is now your affianced bride? Incredible! I have never heard you make so quick a decision upon anything, much less wedlock. I do not like it.”

Darcy had known that his family would make this difficult—although he had believed his cousin would be supportive. It seemed he had made an error.

“You do not have to like it. For that matter, you may trot back to town in my phaeton, and return to draining the cellars of Darcy House at your leisure.”

“Do not be so touchy. What is it about her? Why her?”

Fitzwilliam is trying to understand. His opinion will be carried to the earl and Lady Matlock. Darcy was disinclined to defend himself, but felt he owed an effort for Elizabeth’s sake.

“She is intelligent. She is kind. I enjoy talking to her, learning her opinions—seeing her perspectives. She possesses an uncommon mixture of archness and sweetness, grace and elegance, wit and wisdom. Her manner is refined. I am a gentleman; she is a gentleman’s daughter—we are of the same sphere. We?—”

“You are not of the same sphere!” Fitzwilliam interrupted. “Darcy, your mother was sister to an earl. Hers is a daughter of a country solicitor!”

“I only gave you that information so you would understand that this is no mere infatuation. Never mind her mother; she does not matter, her family lines do not matter—she will be removed from them regardless. If you would speak to Elizabeth for a short while, you would realise her appeal. She no more belongs in this country town than my phaeton belongs on these country roads.”

The colonel shook his head, obviously bemused. “I can sympathise with you, Darcy, truly I can. The last six months have been difficult, and I know you have been very alone in your troubles. You and Bingley have a great friendship, and he has set about procuring himself a country bride. It must seem very convenient, to a man like you, who has a distaste for the social scene, to take up with her sister. But what is all well and good for him, for you?—”

“Once again, you speak nonsense. I have been keeping an eye on Bingley’s infatuation with Miss Bennet. You know him—he falls in and out of love every other fortnight. Most importantly, she does not care enough for him. I shall separate them when I return to town for a licence.”

The colonel stared at him with renewed surprise. “So…what you are saying is that you object to Miss Bennet for Bingley. But are you certain that Miss Elizabeth is the woman for you?”

“As certain as I am of anything in the world.”