Page 71

“I am Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley and Derbyshire.”

“Derbyshire—that is quite a distance from Hertfordshire, but I do not need to tell you that.” He signalled Darcy to take a seat. “How might I serve you?”

“I have come from Bosley. I have a letter from Lady Barrett.” Darcy handed the letter to Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet accepted the missive, opened the elegant seal, and perused its contents. He shifted his gaze from the letter to Mr. Darcy with regularity. Of course, Darcy had no idea what Lady Barrett had written, but he hoped he had been able to persuade her ladyship that his intentions towards Elizabeth were honourable. She had given him no assurances of his success or lack thereof and had only asked that he deliver the letter to Mr. Bennet upon his arrival in Hertfordshire. Darcy had placed a great deal of trust in Lady Barrett’s hands—an unprecedented act for a man who always relied upon his own counsel.

Few words had been spoken between Darcy and Mr. Bennet. When Mr. Darcy was gone, Mr. Bennet sought out his wife to apprise her of the events of the morning. Upon being informed the lady of the manor had ventured to town while he was receiving his guest, Mr. Bennet was obliged to await her return. All the while, he amused himself with the notion of heightening his wife’s aggravation by keeping her in suspense as long as possible.

When finally the housekeeper informed him of his wife’s return, he found her in the parlour with Elizabeth, Mary, and Kitty. He cleared his throat, thus summoning everyone’s attention. “I hope, my dear, that you have ordered a good dinner today, for we are to expect an addition to our family party.”

“Who do you mean, Mr. Bennet? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Maria Lucas should happen to call in—and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”

The elderly gentleman was not one to move quickly to the point when an opportunity to excite his wife’s spirits presented itself. “The person of whom I speak is a gentleman and a stranger—to some of us, at least.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure! But why should you consider him a stranger? True, it has been many months since he left Netherfield. He did promise to take a family dinner with us when he returned, but he certainly is no stranger. Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But—good Lord! How unlucky! There is not a bit of fish to be got today. Kitty, ring the bell; I must speak to Hill this moment.”

“It is not Mr. Bingley,” said her husband.

“Who is it then? Is it the young man whom Hill said called on you earlier? He got away before any of us could be introduced.” Mrs. Bennet commenced attacking her husband in various ways—with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises, but he eluded the skill of them all.

At length, he put an end to his teasing. He peered over his glasses and directed his eyes towards his favourite daughter. “I believe Lizzy is the only one of us in the position to answer your questions justly.” He tucked his arms behind his back. “My dear Lizzy, I shall leave you to it.”

As soon as he was gone, Mrs. Bennet and the girls swarmed Elizabeth with questions. Elizabeth ventured to answer them as best she could while trying to reveal as little as possible. She had weightier matters to occupy her thoughts, and she could hardly wait until she was alone to think.

Her astonishment at his coming to Hertfordshire—to Longbourn—and voluntarily seeking her again was almost unequal to anything she had known since first making his acquaintance. To come so far after she had treated him so callously by refusing to see him when he called on her at Barrington before taking his leave to Kent must surely mean that he was not as angry with her as she had taught herself to believe. But she would not be secure. Let me first see how he behaves. Then I shall know what to expect.

Shortly after Mr. Darcy had arrived and the introductions were made, he found himself seated at the dinner table with Elizabeth and her family. Earlier, Mrs. Bennet had made enough inquiries to ascertain that the gentleman had ten thousand pounds a year. Her anxiety increased one-hundred fold. Though she always kept a very good table, she did not think anything less than two courses could be good enough to satisfy the appetite and pride of such a man. With such short notice, Mrs. Bennet was more than a little annoyed that she had not the time to plan a proper dinner party, one that included the finest families of her acquaintance, for her esteemed guest. Alas, it was to be a small family dinner. Not even her own sister could be prevailed upon to attend on such short notice, owing to prior commitments.

For that, Elizabeth was exceedingly grateful. It would not do for Mr. Darcy’s first meeting with her Hertfordshire relations to be marred by her aunt’s vulgarity. Elizabeth worried enough over what her mother might do and say.

“It was kind of you to seek our society, Mr. Darcy. It is such an honour,” said Mrs. Bennet. “However, where is Mr. Bingley? How delighted we were when he let Netherfield Park after it had stood empty for so very long. Does he ever intend to return, or does he have a notion of ending his lease? Surely if he plans never to return, he ought to give it up. Is that the purpose in your coming to Hertfordshire, sir? Do you intend to procure the estate for your own purposes?”

Her husband said, “Mrs. Bennet, you must allow the young man a moment to answer one question at a time.”

“Nonsense, Mr. Bennet. The neighbourhood was quite disappointed when Mr. Bingley left and without choosing a future bride from amongst any of the single young ladies. Pray tell, Mr. Darcy, does Mr. Bingley remain single?”

“When last we spoke, he was single, madam.”

Elizabeth feared she would roll under the table should the question of Mr. Darcy’s marital plans arise? Fortunately, her mother’s attention was drawn away when Kitty, whom she had purposely seated directly beside the gentleman, began coughing incessantly.

“For heaven’s sake, Kitty! Do you know no better than to create such a commotion in the presence of our distinguished guest?” She returned her attention to Mr. Darcy. “I do hope the meal is to your liking, sir, although I suppose you must have two or three French cooks at least.”

Darcy said that he did not, and he further complimented her on the excellent meal. A very fine meal it was: venison, partridges, a fat haunch as well as the finest soup to be had—fifty times better than what he would have been served at Lady Lucas’s table. His commendations pleased Mrs. Bennet immensely, and soon she began to speak on other topics to garner his approbation.

Having exhausted several awkward topics, Mrs. Bennet began praising her daughter Kitty. “All my daughters are accomplished young ladies and none more than my Kitty. She paints screens, she draws exceedingly well, and she has a thorough command of the modern languages.”

Elizabeth nearly laughed aloud. Can this be my younger sister? Elizabeth had to turn her face to hide her amusement. When Mrs. Bennet extolled Kitty’s accomplishments on the pianoforte, even poor Mary’s countenance clouded with bewilderment. Elizabeth, well aware that the designs her mother had intended for Mr. Bingley and Kitty were now being directed to Mr. Darcy and Kitty, began to feel sorry he had come at all.

Elizabeth said as little to the gentleman as civility would allow, preferring instead to study his reactions to those he no doubt considered beneath him in consequence. When she could, she stole a glance at her father, but all she detected was his amusement in watching Mr. Darcy looking embarrassed and ill at ease while endeavouring to survive the onslaught of a very determined matchmaking mama.

Mr. Darcy resumed his same attitude from dinner to the parlour. Elizabeth had always known he could be brooding, but never had she seen him so quiet, so taciturn in company. With his friends in Bosley, he was always amicable. He behaved equally agreeable with Lady Vanessa who did not hide the fact that she would rather he were Lord Holland. But that must be his way—exceedingly agreeable amongst those whom he considers his equals. I made it clear to him that the other members of my family were not part of the fashionable society, did I not? How did he expect them to be? Why come at all if he meant to be silent and taciturn?

When it was time for the guest to take his leave, Mr. Bennet suggested that Elizabeth see the gentleman out. She was more than happy to be of service. As soon as they were alone, Elizabeth crossed her arms and commenced her long-awaited interrogation. “What is the purpose in your being here, sir?”

“I think you know the reason I am here.”

“I think in such cases as this, I would rather not suppose anything, sir.”

“I came to see you. I had to see you. Being apart from you for all these weeks has been a torment.”