Chapter 12

12

D arcy had not really enjoyed the shooting party. He knew Miss Elizabeth was in the house, but he would not be able to see her if she stayed upstairs to tend her sister. He was even less pleased over lunch, when Miss Bingley, aided and abetted by the faithful echo that was her sister, began to abuse Miss Elizabeth.

"I don't think she is half as good as people think her to be," she sniffed disdainfully. "She did not join in our conversation of music." She looked around triumphantly. "I think she is one of those people who have learned to play one thing very well, just to impress people, but have not the skill to play very many pieces or to prove they are accomplished by joining in a conversation about the subject."

"Don't be foolish, Caroline," Bingley snapped. "Why, I heard Sir William himself say that Miss Elizabeth had a private presentation at court, including tea with the queen herself, all by command of Her Majesty. What would that be for, if not for her talent at music and singing?"

Darcy stared at his friend. He knew Bingley was worried about Miss Bennet, but to thoughtlessly speak of Miss Elizabeth's presentation when they did not know if it was public knowledge …

He cleared his throat. "I do not know if that fact is widely known, Bingley. I would not like it to go further if it is considered a secret."

"Who would keep such an honour secret?" Miss Bingley sniffed. "But I do not believe it. She must have fabricated the whole thing. Why, Miss Bennet herself said at dinner last night that their relations in town live in Cheapside!"

Bingley banged the table with his hand. "Be quiet, Caroline. I care not if they have a whole host of relations in Cheapside. You forget, we ourselves had a father who lived in the midst of his looms in Scarborough! You owe your supposed manners and your fortune to him, and to him alone."

He turned to Darcy. "Miss Elizabeth's presentation is no secret. Miss Bennet told me at the gathering that her sister does not like to mention it too much, but that the whole town knows of it."

Darcy nodded. "Did Miss Bennet say how the queen got to hear of her talent and command her presence?"

"No," Bingley shook his head. "She seemed uncomfortable talking about it, so I changed the subject."

Darcy was surprised; he had rarely noticed Bingley being quite so deeply thoughtful of another. Perhaps this time he really was seeing the real person behind the beautiful face. He stifled a smile; perhaps he ought not to draw attention to the words of the song they had heard at the gathering.

And that reminded him; had Santorio written many songs? If so, why did Gardiner not send them to him along with all the new music? He must write today, and add an order for the Santorio songs to the other works. Although he wondered if Georgiana would have the range to sing them; she might find the matter distressing.

Surely Miss Elizabeth must have altered the tune to sing the lowest notes. No composer would write for such a rare voice. Perhaps it was something he could ask her when she came down to dine with them. He frowned; she had walked here this morning — was she expecting to walk home this afternoon, leaving her sister alone?

"What did the apothecary say about Miss Bennet's health, Bingley? I wondered that if she has to stay a few days, then perhaps Miss Elizabeth could be invited to stay with her. It would mean less work for Miss Bingley, as hostess, if the main nursing goes to her sister." He hoped the final sentence would incline Miss Bingley to the idea.

"I think it is well thought of, and Miss Bennet would be grateful." Bingley turned to his sister.

"If you summon Mrs. Nicholls now, we could send a conveyance to Longbourn to collect whatever the Miss Bennets need for a few days."

Darcy hid a smile; Miss Bingley looked absolutely furious, but could hardly say so while trying to prove to him what a perfect mistress she would make for Pemberley.

And Miss Elizabeth would be here. She would spend at least some time downstairs over the next few days. He could talk to her, discover more about her. And, whatever Miss Bingley alleged, it was certain that Miss Elizabeth must have spent many hours in practice, and she would not be able to resist the lure of the instrument downstairs here. He suppressed a satisfied smile before turning to Bingley.

"I have been conscious of the fact that we have not yet settled upon a time each day when I might show you the basics of being a landowner, and at the same time, improve the profitability of Netherfield for you for the future."

He saw a shadow behind his friend's eyes and had to suppress another smile. "Worry not, my friend, we will leave the calling hours free for you to continue your friendship with the neighbours. I thought to spend a few hours after lunch each day with you in the library. We could achieve a fair amount in that time, especially if we ride out for an hour before breakfast each morning to see if there are any problems that need early attention."

Bingley groaned. "A ride before breakfast! Darcy, you know I cannot keep country hours."

"You will need to soon enough, Bingley. To my mind, it is the best time of the day — although, as an interim measure, we might move it back an hour or so the day after we have been to a late event such as an assembly."

Unexpectedly, Hurst laughed, and Darcy turned to him in some surprise. "Hurst?"

"I'm sorry to startle you, Darcy. I am sure you will keep Bingley on the straight and narrow much longer than I could." He looked slyly over at his brother-in-law. "Although, if he wishes to marry, he may well be determined enough to become a good estate owner."

Darcy looked away from his friend's blush and caught the fury on Miss Bingley's face. He looked away in a hurry; it was even more obvious to him that Miss Bingley would do all within her power to separate his friend from Miss Bennet.

He was glad he'd thought of Miss Elizabeth staying with her sister when she came downstairs for dinner. She had been able to change out of the muddy gown and petticoats, and seemed perfectly composed.

He moved over to the drinks tray. "May I offer you a drink before dinner is called, Miss Elizabeth? Perhaps a small sherry?"

She dipped her head. "I thank you for the offer, Mr. Darcy, but I believe I would just like a glass of water, please."

He stared at her in surprise, and her eyebrow arched in that impertinent manner which had so annoyed him before he was introduced to her. "I think Mrs. Nicholls has placed a carafe and glass beside the drinks, sir."

Darcy blinked, and turned to check. Yes, the water was on the tray, and he poured her a glass, handing it to her.

"Is this because you do not like sherry?" he enquired. "There must be something else you might prefer, rather than water."

Her gaze met his, thoughtfully. "It is well, Mr. Darcy. I will enjoy a glass of wine during dinner."

He nodded, and she left him, crossing to a table where she browsed the titles of the few books scattered there. He knew a moment of irritation; surely she must know he would wish to talk to her of music — Georgiana would be disappointed if he had no more to tell her in his next letter.

Although it was as well, he supposed, that he did not seem too interested, and he crossed the room to stand with Bingley. He could talk to Miss Elizabeth after dinner. And perhaps she would play for him — for them, he corrected himself hurriedly, happy he was not given to blushing as Bingley did.

But he was not to be so fortunate. As soon as dinner had finished, Miss Elizabeth made her excuses to Miss Bingley and vanished upstairs to join her sister. He frowned; he had not been able to talk to her during the meal — Miss Bingley had seen to that, placing him beside her, and Miss Elizabeth at the far end of the table, by Bingley, and with the Hursts between them. He had not even been able to hear what her conversation had been about, although he did hear Hurst being surprised she had not chosen the ragout.

All in all, it had been a wasted evening, and Darcy was extremely irritated; and even more so when the Bingley sisters decided to show him how accomplished they were on the pianoforte, playing music that was far too complicated for them to play competently and have enough left-over concentration to add feeling to their playing.