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“I have met him at Rosings.”

“Then you have some advantage over me. I had no warning.”

Darcy’s mouth twitched. “What connection has he with the Bennets?”

“He is Mr. Bennet’s cousin and will inherit Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet considered that a recommendation sufficient to overcome any objection.”

“Miss Bennet disagreed?”

“Most decidedly. The particulars belong to Elizabeth, but you may take my word that she can distinguish between a comfortable provision and a husband she could bear to live with. Jane can, too. I should not be so content a married man if I believed she had accepted me merely to please her mother.”

“I spoke to Elizabeth before I proposed,” Bingley continued. “I thought she might tell me whether I should persevere.”

“And she did?”

“She asked whether I intended to leave Netherfield for the winter. I had been speaking of London, and Caroline wished to go.”

“A reasonable question.”

“Yes. I gave a very poor answer to it. I said I had not decided, and that perhaps we might all go. Elizabeth asked whether I had told Jane any of this. I had not.”

Bingley turned the cue in his hand, recalling the encounter with more embarrassment than Darcy had expected.

“Elizabeth said she would not encourage her sister to look for a gentleman who had not decided where he wished to be.”

“A severe interpretation.”

“A fair one. I knew what I felt, but I had left Jane to guess what I would do.”

Darcy walked around the table. He had no need to examine the next shot from that side, but found movement agreeable while he revised an opinion he had held without examination.

Caroline’s account had described a family eager to establish itself at Bingley’s expense. There was enough truth in Mrs. Bennet’s evident ambition to have made the description plausible. Yet Elizabeth had been willing to offend the gentleman whose proposal would most benefit her sister. Darcy could not reconcile that easily with the sort of calculated encouragement he had assumed.

“What followed?” Darcy asked.

“I called the next morning. Jane and I walked together. I had meant to ask for a private conversation and found that she had already arranged one by inviting me to see a rosebush.”

“In November?”

“There was very little to see. We managed.”

Darcy smiled despite himself.

“Your wife can be determined, then.”

“When she is certain what she wants,” Bingley replied. “You may come and inspect this rosebush when we next visit Longbourn. I regard it with great affection.”

“I fear you have given it more consequence than it can support.”

“Elizabeth says the same of me.”

“Does she speak so freely to everyone?”

“Only after she likes them. Before that she is more troublesome.”

Darcy thought of the step outside his own house and decided it would be unwise to ask which degree of trouble he had attained.

They returned to the game. Bingley recovered enough attention to play creditably, though not enough to win. When Darcy suggested another game, Bingley looked toward the door.