6

The Darcys were habitually early risers, though the rest of their party kept Town hours; hence the first week at Netherfield had seen Lady Anne take her morning repast with only her sons for company. Darcy knew his mother preferred it that way, as he did himself.

On this morning, in particular, Darcy was glad to have an opportunity to speak to his brother without the Bingleys or Hursts present. Miss Bingley’s behaviour the previous evening at dinner had given him considerable concern, and he could see it written on his mother’s countenance as well. He was still considering how to open the topic when Lady Anne spared him the uncomfortable task by addressing the subject directly.

“My dear Marcus,” she said. “I must speak my peace. I have abstained in the week we have been at Netherfield in the hope that my fears were unfounded, but after last evening I can no longer dismiss my own misgivings. I believe Miss Bingley has set her cap at you.”

Marcus lowered his newspaper and asked drily, “What gave it away? Her sudden fascination with little Lou, whom she did not once make an effort to see when last she was at Pemberley? Or perhaps it is that her neckline has gotten lower and lower each passing evening?”

Lady Anne held up a hand before he could elaborate any further. “I have no intention of disparaging our hostess; I have nothing against her personally. I knew her mother, and both of the Bingley sisters were taught that it is their duty to make as fine a match as they possibly can. She is only doing what she believes she ought to attempt.”

“It is what she may yet attempt that we ought to worry about,” Darcy muttered; he had kept his own door locked every night since he had arrived, and had been met with sardonic laughter when he had suggested Marcus do the same.

Lady Anne gave Darcy a silencing look before she continued. “I only wish to offer a little counsel, if you will permit your Mamma her say. You married once for duty, Marcus, gratifying the dearest wish of my sister and I. The family will not influence you again in the specific choice of your next wife, but I will only say that you must choose wisely. Your next bride will be the woman to raise your daughter, as well as – I hope – your heir. She will be the woman little Lou models herself after, the woman who will bring her into society. Fortune matters less than it would have, had Fitzwilliam not agreed to invest in Rosings and bring it back into prosperity. But connections still matter, and comportment even more so.”

Marcus nodded. “We are her grandest connections; any others the Bingleys have in the first circle have only been forged through their acquaintance with us. I agree that in this respect she offers nothing I do not already have. But I cannot think her manners are so very bad. She is eager to please – is that not some reason to at least consider her a possibility?”

“If her treatment of yourself alone was to be the measure of her worth, I would agree with you,” Lady Anne replied. “But have you not observed her behaviour toward her neighbours?”

Darcy nodded his head emphatically. “She was quite uncivil toward Olly’s sister when they called yesterday, and she has had nothing but criticism for all the Bennet ladies.”

“The Bennet ladies do not all endeavour to be above reproach,” Marcus snorted.

“That does not excuse the commentary Miss Bingley treated us to at dinner last evening,” Lady Anne said, giving her eldest son a sharp look.

Marcus grimaced. “Why ever not? Their motives are the same – to put themselves forward with us lucky gentlemen.”

Darcy could not remain silent. Though he privately agreed that the behaviour of Mrs. Bennet, her youngest daughters, and even on occasion her husband was not what it ought to be, he had spoken with Elizabeth enough in the last week to understand what drove the Bennets’ indelicacy.

“Longbourn is entailed – the heir is our aunt Catherine’s parson. The very same imbecile whom you, Marcus, have advised to come to Meryton to select a bride from amongst his cousins.”

“Oh? That ought to be good,” Marcus laughed, rubbing his hands together with glee. “Though it was not my notion, but our aunt’s. He irritated Lady Amelia during her visit, and Aunt Catherine found she could not countenance that any estate in the kingdom, even one so wholly unconnected to herself, should leave a household of ladies as disobliged as she now finds herself.”

Darcy knew his aunt was far from suffering; she had not even removed to the dower house yet. But that was a problem for the spring. At present, he was determined to defend Elizabeth’s relations as best he could while still privately disliking their indecorous conduct.

“Mrs. Bennet has five daughters whose futures she must attend to. She does not put them forward by disparaging others; that is Miss Bingley’s paltry tactic. The Bennet girls have been nothing but kind to everyone, though their sentiments have been expressed with too much exuberance in some instances. Olly has given me to understand that Netherfield has long sat vacant, and with so many new acquaintance now amongst them, it is natural that they should be enthusiastic in welcoming new neighbours, even cherishing some hopes in that regard. It would also be natural if Miss Bingley were to do what any new mistress of an estate ought to do, and treat her new neighbours with gracious warmth. She has chosen instead to elevate herself by disdaining those who are, if nothing else, of superior birth.”

Last Anne regarded his long speech with astonishment before patting his arm and saying, “Well done, Fitzwilliam. The Misses Bennet deserve more respect than Miss Bingley has paid them, and it has not shown her own character in a favourable light. That is all I will say, though I hope you would consider the matter more, Marcus, lest you find yourself in an untenable situation. She may take your silence as agreement, and your flippancy as encouragement. To attach yourself to such a creature would give your poor father an apoplexy. You know he does not care for her.”

Now it was Darcy’s turn to give his mother a comforting pat. “Have you considered that her aspirations may be redirected toward Richard? For him, fortune is far more important than any other consideration, and his character may, in time, improve hers.”

His brother rolled his eyes. “Have you taken an interest in matchmaking, Fitzwilliam?”

Darcy’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I speak of your preservation, that is all.”

“I will mention it to him,” Lady Anne said curtly. “That is all I will do; I have nothing else to say about Miss Bingley, as I do not like to be so unkind, even for the sake of protecting my own.” And now, she turned her shrewd but affectionate gaze toward Darcy, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Surely you cannot have any concerns for me,” he said weakly.

“I shall always have concerns for my children,” Lady Anne said. “You need not distress yourself, Fitzwilliam, for I do think well of your Miss Elizabeth. However, I must observe that her mother expects her to make a match with Captain Lucas. Would you poach from your dearest friend?”

It was all Darcy could do not to let out an ironic laugh at the notion. He knew of his friend’s true interests, and though it had taken Darcy some time to reconcile himself to the predilections of the man who had saved his life more than once, Darcy’s loyalty would never be swayed. “Olly looks upon her as a sister, a feeling which she has told you herself is entirely mutual.”

Marcus grinned. “I hear your friend Captain Lucas intends to play matchmaker for the two of you, and all the rest of us besides.”

Lady Anne looked mortified; Darcy hastened to defend his friend. “He has been too long at sea, scheming on how to make mischief for his neighbours, but I am sure it is harmless fun.”

“I find it all most amusing,” Marcus drawled, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head and his elbows wide and relaxed. “I have no intention of being taken in by anybody; my stay at Netherfield is a matter of business, to prepare Will and Bingley for the arduous tasks ahead of them. But I should like to see them both struck with Cupid’s arrow. My friend a lovesick puppy and my stoic brother composing sonnets ere long – how excessively diverting.”

“I worry for poor Mr. Bingley – and for Miss Bennet,” Lady Anne sighed.

“She would be a fine match for him,” Marcus said. “She may not have a great fortune, but he need not care for that. Her reserve will temper his ebullience, and she is certainly pretty enough to keep his interest.”

“Is she, though? I mean no offence to your friend, but I had the impression that he falls in love easily and often,” Lady Anne replied carefully. “I worry that he may disappoint her, and where would that leave you in her sister’s good graces, Fitzwilliam?”

Marcus rolled his eyes and made a droll face. “Miss Elizabeth may love her sister, but what woman in the world would allow sisterly affection to cost her such a fortunate alliance?”

Darcy ignored his brother and considered his mother’s words; the notion had some merit. Charles Bingley had professed undying ardour for at least a dozen pretty blondes in the years the Darcys had known him. Bingley’s sisters would likely prove an obstacle to the match, and Darcy could not be sure his friend would overcome it. If Jane Bennet cherished hopes that may yet be disappointed, would Elizabeth begrudge him, or his friend?

“I will speak to Bingley and ascertain his intentions,” Darcy said, wondering if there was any way he might delicately warn Elizabeth to put Miss Bennet on her guard. “I do not wish to interfere to the detriment of whatever may happen naturally between them.”

“Your friend Captain Lucas will undoubtedly have that honour,” Marcus quipped.

“So long as he does not direct his mischief at me,” Darcy retorted.

“Your Miss Elizabeth has promised to pay him back in kind, and so I daresay you shall be quite safe,” Lady Anne said with a smile. “I would not have you think I disapprove. But I have never seen you in love before, or even interested in a particular lady. I am pleased, but cautiously so.”

“It has been but a week,” Darcy said, more to convince himself than his mother. “But I enjoy her company; I like her. I had thought that you do as well.”

“I do like her, Fitzwilliam. But I love you, and it is your heart that I would not seem wounded by your first attachment. She is perfectly charming, and I do not believe she has misrepresented herself, but I have moved in a wide circle of society for thirty years now, and I have been duped before by such pictures of perfection. As you say, it has only been a week.”

“I think her a fine match for our dour fellow,” Marcus cried. “She can make him laugh, by God! With such a wife at his side, Will’s burden at Rosings would be halved, for she would win the instant adoration of all the tenant families, and she may be the one woman capable of putting Lady Catherine in her place, which is the dower house – or better still, Bedlam.”

At this, Marcus rubbed at his temples; their aunt had given him a great deal of trouble in her resistance to relinquishing the reins of power at Rosings. He added, “And with such a grand husband, her mother might be made to see the wisdom of giving her younger daughters a bit more education and polishing before sending them out into society.”

“True,” Lady Anne agreed. “If it is as you say, and Mrs. Bennet fears the entail, surely having one or two of the eldest well settled will mitigate her haste in putting the younger ones forward, and instead offer them the opportunity to improve before they move amongst their betters.”

“She ought to lock the youngest three up for a year at least,” Marcus said before raising his newspaper up again and pretending to resume his perusal of it, muttering, “The youngest perhaps forever.”

“Catherine will not like any lady who supplants her as mistress as Rosings; better to at least not give her such ammunition as their behaviour would be,” Lady Anne agreed.

Darcy smiled indulgently at his mother, who had already married him off to the fetching and fascinating Elizabeth Bennet. His ever-prevalent logical side knew that it was far too early in their acquaintance to think of such things, and yet some part of him found the possibility a surprisingly pleasant one. “And have you selected a date for our nuptials, Mother?”

Marcus snorted and covered it with a cough, not taking his eyes away from the newspaper. Lady Anne ignored him and answered Darcy instead. “I know you think me too hasty, but it is better to speak of such things before anybody’s feelings are too far gone to see sense. And I think her quite perfectly suited to you, my darling boy. Her present situation at Longbourn is ideal for a bride brought to Rosings when it is still retrenching and recovering from my sister’s troubles. A lady who brought a substantial fortune into such a match might be vexed to see her portion spent on an estate that will pass to somebody else’s child, and most society ladies would baulk at the limitations to their spending and other habits, whereas the current income of Rosings is not very much less than what Miss Bennet must likely be accustomed to.”

“These are certainly considerations in her favour,” Darcy replied. “But there must be any number of gently bred county girls with small portions and limited prospects, who would happily take a retired sailor and a grand but temporarily distressed estate that will pass to a relation in less than twenty years. Elizabeth – Miss Elizabeth – is worth far more than the sum of her circumstances. She is witty and bright and entirely unique. I have come to know her through her correspondence with Olly for the years I was at sea, and in the last week I have discovered her to be a truly remarkable woman of intelligence and integrity as well.”

“And of course, she is both beautiful and forgiving, which makes her much better than tolerable.” Lady Anne smiled indulgently as Darcy blanched. “Mr. Bingley could not help himself; Captain Lucas was quite vexed at not having the honour of betraying your incivility.”

Darcy could not bring himself to protest that he had only spoken so severely because he did not wish to dance at all, a sentiment borne in part from his concern for his mother’s equanimity on that occasion. Instead, he only offered a rueful expression and then studied his plate.

But Lady Anne was not finished. She reached over and scrunched up the newspaper Marcus had been hiding behind. “As much as I shall ever urge caution, I do wish you both to marry for love. For you to do so, Marcus, you must be on your guard here at Netherfield. And you, Fitzwilliam – well, a lady likes to be courted properly, you know. And to that end, I have a gift for you.”

“I should hope it is the gift of changing the subject,” Marcus grumbled, though Darcy was sure he saw his brother betray the barest of smiles at their mother’s tender concern.

“In a way, you shall have your wish, Marcus, for is something that I cannot bring to you, Fitzwilliam – I must bring you to it,” she said enigmatically. Darcy was obliged to follow his mother from the room, watching the widely disparate reactions of his mother and brother as Miss Bingley sashayed into the breakfast room just as Darcy and Lady Anne were quitting it.

***

Elizabeth slowed her pace as she turned from the Longbourn lane onto the one that led toward Meryton. She was out of sight of the house and would be alone with her reflections – and her rising anticipation – until she met Captain Darcy. They had walked for miles together every morning, and by unspoken agreement they always met at such a distance from her home as to keep their routine a secret from the prying eyes of her indiscreet relations.

She could not think of their pleasant rambles as assignations – perhaps they were, though there had been nothing more improper than hours of candid conversation, and always at the end of their time together, Captain Darcy would gently kiss her hand. She flexed her fingers at the thought of his perfect lips on her skin, for today she had not worn her gloves.

Lost to such amorous musings, Elizabeth was roused by the sound of horses coming around the bend, and she stepped back toward the edge of the road just as a shiny new curricle came into view. Captain Darcy was driving at a rather a slow pace, and he seemed to be looking for her; the horses came to a stop and he stood in salutation before leaping down from the impressive equipage.

“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth,” he said with more energy than usual, waiting for her to remark on his mode of transportation.

She was happy to oblige him. “Good morning, sir. This is a fine manner of arrival!”

“It was a gift from my mother, sent up from London. I hope you will consent to take a ride with me.”

Elizabeth grinned as she nodded her assent. He had suggested riding after a few days of walking with her, and despite the temptation to see more of the countryside – and the fine sight of him astride a horse – Elizabeth had confessed that she was not an accomplished equestrian. But to sit so close beside him on such an elegant chaise as this… Elizabeth instantly made ready for him to hand her up onto the seat.

He sat down beside her, so close they were nearly touching, and flicked the reins with excited confidence as the curricle began to move. For a minute Elizabeth could only marvel at the familiar view seen from a higher vantage point, and then she realised the direction he had chosen.

“Are you taking us into Meryton?”

“I hope we may travel a little further than that – you mentioned a pretty little lake to the west of the town.”

“The whole village will see us,” she said, laughing as she imagined how the tongues would wag. Rich, handsome gentlemen did not make such marked displays of attention toward the local ladies every day.

“Then we will make haste, and they shall only say that a pair of absolute reprobates sped through the village with such alarming speed that they could not at all discern who had the audacity to make such a spectacle.”

Elizabeth chortled at his jest. “I see now why you have worn your uniform this morning; they will mistake you for Olly, for nobody should be the least bit astonished at him behaving in such a way. The truth of it shall stay just between us.”

Captain Darcy gave her a thoughtful smile. “I am not afraid to be seen with you.”

“I would not have you so,” Elizabeth replied, though she privately hoped that Mrs. Long, Mrs. Goulding, and even her Aunt Phillips would all be inside their homes and well away from any windows when the curricle passed through the village. “My mother’s raptures are the real danger.”

Though it would have been prudent to select a more private route, Elizabeth soon overcame her apprehension in favour of anticipation. They reached Meryton in just a few minutes, for Captain Darcy seemed to derive great pleasure from the speed of his horses. Elizabeth found the sensations of such travel delightful, even when the wind loosened the ribbons of her bonnet and blew it from her head just as they passed the high street. Captain Darcy was momentarily alarmed, even offering to retrieve it or replace it, but Elizabeth merrily waved away his concern.

“Lydia has been threatening to steal it for weeks, so I am sure I should have lost it anyhow.”

He said nothing and merely smiled at her as the wind continued to bedevil her, blowing her thick, unruly curls around her face. Shifting the reins to one hand, he reached up with the other and brushed the hair from her face, his gloved fingertips moving slowly and deliberately across her face.

Elizabeth shivered at the thrill of his touch, but the bewitching spell of the moment was broken when there was a loud shout. A militiaman darted away from the road as his companions laughed at the near-calamity, and Captain Darcy called out his regrets for almost running the redcoat over.

“My apologies,” he said as they were carried beyond the small village. “I ought not drive so distractedly.”

“Yes, I had expected you to be more capable of steering the ship, Captain,” she chided him. “Pray, what distracts you?”

“You,” he said, so softly Elizabeth was not entirely certain she had heard him properly. He looked away, focusing on the drive, but Elizabeth could see his face reddening.

She was far too affected by this single word to speak, and when a rut in the road caused the chaise to momentarily jolt, she could not repine that the shifting of their seat had moved her closer to him. She latched onto his arm, relishing the thrill of flying through the autumn countryside as another strong breeze blew golden leaves around them.

They drive on in silence, and while Elizabeth savoured the contact between them as much as the colourful morning sky setting the autumnal landscape aglow, she began to crave some conversation. Every night that week she had lain awake in her bed, chiding herself for such a consuming infatuation, and imagining what they might speak of the following morning together. She wished to hear his every opinion, to coax the responses from him until she could see him relax and grow gregarious with her. She supposed he must feel chagrined at the near-collision in the village, and wished to do her the courtesy of safer driving, and so she resolved to simply enjoy the scenery.

She had never been conveyed in so fine an equipage as this, nor had she ever seen her environs from such a height. It was just enough of a difference to render everything new to her eyes, and the rush of Captain Darcy’s company lent familiar vistas a euphoric sense of novelty. She drew in a slow, deep breath as she beheld the sprawling golden vistas and grew keenly aware of the flexing of his muscular arms as he flicked the reins, and then Elizabeth began to laugh aloud.

He looked over at her, his countenance serious but for the curious quirk of his brow. “What amuses you, Miss Elizabeth?”

Mimicking his enigmatic reply from earlier, she held his gaze and said, “You.”

He briefly looked affronted before sputtering with surprised laughter. “Oh, do I?”

“Surely it was your intention to amuse me, inviting me on an outing so promising of many delights.”

Captain Darcy appeared relieved that she was not laughing at him, which caused her to begin to do so in earnest; clinging to him still, she had to check herself before saying anything too bold. “To be surrounded by such beauty, and in good company, diverts me just as much as good conversation.”

He gave a deep bow of his head in acknowledgement. “That is a sentiment I share, though I feared you began to find me quite dull.”

“If I did, I should never merely laugh at you for it – certainly not without teasing you soundly about it first,” Elizabeth said archly.

Again he nodded his head, drily replying, “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.”

“I should imagine you more likely to indulge them,” Elizabeth replied, blushing as she felt the unintentional sauciness of her remark. “You have most obligingly conveyed me to one of my favourite places in the county,” she added, gesturing as the lake came into view.

“It is beautiful,” he said, his eyes lingering deliberately on her for a minute before he turned his gaze to the scene before them. The small lake was still and lustrous, reflecting the golden clouds that adorned the sky, the surface calm and perfect. A thin fog clung to the ground here, and an array of orange and red trees rose beyond; still further in the distance, a few gently rolling hills bore vibrant greens and golds, fading into the lightening blue of the morning sky.

The curricle slowed as they traversed the narrow track that wound around the lake. Elizabeth gazed longingly at the water. “Sometimes when we were children, we would swim here on hot summer days.”

“There is a pond near Pemberley where I occasionally do the same,” Captain Darcy said.

“It has been many years since I have done so,” Elizabeth said before turning a playful look up at him. “At least, it has been as far as Mamma is aware. She would have a fit of apoplexy if she knew that it has really only been six weeks since I have had the pleasure.”

He actually smirked at her. “As I said, I would by no means suspend….”

“Ha,” Elizabeth cried. “We should certainly make a scandal! And very likely catch our death of the cold. No, thank you, I am quite content where I am at present.” To emphasise her point, she daringly tightened her grip on his arm just a bit.

His lips twitched and curved upward at her brazen familiarity. “And would you be content to remain in Hertfordshire forever?”

“I have never been unhappy here, but neither have I ever imagined I would remain here always. I would like to see more of the world, or at least more of England. Your career has afforded you the opportunity to see such things as I should only ever be so fortunate as to read about.”

“There was more peril than pleasure in my travels,” he replied. “And I soon learned that no matter the novelty and excitement of new places, none could ever surpass my affection for Derbyshire.”

“Is it as wild and rugged as I have heard?”

“Likely more so,” Captain Darcy said, gazing into the distance with quiet reverence. “There is no poetry on earth that can truly capture the awe and splendour of the peaks, especially at sunset. It is a marvellous thing, but you must see it for yourself.”

“And so I shall, for my aunt and uncle Gardiner mean to take Jane and I there next summer. Last year it was the seaside, but I have high hopes for our next trip, for my aunt, who is very dear to me, is from Derbyshire.”

“Whereabout?”

“A village called Lambton, I believe.”

Captain Darcy’s face lit up. “That is not five miles from Pemberley! But surely you will visit your aunt’s home village – you must all visit Pemberley, and then you shall see my secret swimming spot.”

“I should like that very much – but, I beg your pardon, will you not be at Rosings in Kent?”

He did not reply, and a thick, loaded silence hung in the air between them, their growing affection amassing into an almost tangible mutual expectation that neither dared give voice to. Elizabeth shivered with the excitement of such a sensation, and she could see that he felt it as well – that in their minds they were already together at Pemberley.

Finally Captain Darcy asked, “How did you like the seaside? Another opportunity to swim, I presume.”

“I did go sea-bathing,” Elizabeth said, a warmth creeping across her chest as she pondered his fascination with her swimming expeditions. “There were a great many diversions in Sanditon, and some endearingly interesting characters to sketch. I wrote of it to Olly, so I might wonder if you recall a particularly unforgiving sketch I made of the resident hypochondriacs, the spinster sisters who were determined to diagnose us all with such maladies as would keep us in residence another month complete.”

He laughed. “Indeed – it is amongst my favourites of your communications to our friend. I recall one of them sported bees in her bonnet. She reminded me of my Aunt Catherine.”

Elizabeth sputtered with laughter. “Oh dear! That is not what I should wish to call to mind when my cousin Collins inevitably continues his worship of her at Longbourn.”

“We shall be equals in that respect,” he quipped. He gave a shake of his head and then asked, “Had you any chance to do any sailing while you were at the seaside? I can confirm it is by far the finest way to enjoy the water.”

Elizabeth tried not to frown. “We were invited to join a small sailing party, but… well, there was a gentleman who abruptly withdrew his interest in my sister upon discovering our relations are in trade, and our own interest in Sanditon quickly waned.” She did frown, now. “Forgive me, I ought not to have….”

“I am glad you told me,” Captain Darcy said solemnly. “In truth, I had desired some opportunity to hint to you that in all the years I have been friends with Charles Bingley, I have often seen his attentions given in haste and soon diverted just as easily, both by his own whims and the will of his sisters.”

Elizabeth tensed at the thought of Jane experiencing another disappointment so soon. “She ought to be given some chance to guard her heart,” she said softly.

“Exactly so,” he replied.

She smiled her thanks, and he seemed to understand that her discomfort might be eased by turning the subject. “When is your birthday? That is, I wonder if this is why summertime travel is the custom for your relations.”

“It is merely the finest time for it. My birthday is the eighth of April, and I am generally content to spend it at home, watching everything come back to life.”

“Rosings is lovely at that time of year,” Darcy said. “Spring has a way of softening the severity of the place, and though the gardens are too ostentatious for my taste, the flowers are some of the finest in the country.”

Elizabeth again felt what such musings could be leading to, and she was compelled to make a jest to cover her deeper sentiments. “Perhaps Olly shall have his way in uniting one of my sisters with Mr. Collins, and then I shall have occasion to visit in the spring.”

Captain Darcy smiled brilliantly at her. “I have every expectation of seeing you marvelling at the loveliness of what blossoms at Rosings this spring, Miss Elizabeth.”

He took this moment to gratify her secret wish; he lifted her bare hand in his and raised it to his lips. Elizabeth’s heart nearly burst.