Chapter X
“You are not a hopeless cause after all.”
Darcy looked away from the window and his thoughts, fixing on Hurst, who grinned with far too much glee for his liking. The carriage, he noted, was now approaching Netherfield in the distance, perhaps only two or three minutes before they arrived. For much of the journey from Longbourn, Darcy was immersed in his thoughts, reflections about the conversation he had shared with Miss Elizabeth, which, when contrasted with their other encounters in the autumn, showed an entirely different tenor altogether. Darcy had not noticed it then, but it was no less than obvious now.
“I always knew Darcy had it in him,” said Bingley, a note of teasing in his voice. “All he needed was to get out of his own head and feel a little.”
That was not an unreasonable observation, to own the truth. Darcy was aware of his character, knew he thought to excess before deciding. In this instance, it was only part of the story—thinking to excess had become secondary to looking at a worthy woman and considering her unsuitable for a position in his life. Now that Darcy’s eyes were opened, such prideful thoughts were not only untrue but ridiculous.
“You were not incorrect,” said Darcy, knowing that to remain silent was to urge his companions to further commentary. “Today’s conversation was . . . different from any time I have ever spoken to Miss Elizabeth before.”
Hurst watched him with no little curiosity. “How so?”
“It was easier,” replied Darcy.
“And with less challenge, I will warrant,” said Bingley. When Darcy looked at him, Bingley did not hesitate to respond. “When you spoke together before, your conversations always containeda hint of argument. I can remember a few choice disagreements between you.”
Hurst did not restrain his laughter. “‘Yourdefect is a propensity to hate everybody.’”
Darcy remembered the exchange as well as his companions did. Bingley joined in with his brother’s mirth.
“Oh, aye! That comment, if nothing else, told the story of her less-than-cordial feelings for our excellent Darcy.”
The carriage shuddered to a halt, and Darcy chose not to respond in favor of alighting and entering the house. Though he might have preferred to make for his room, instead Darcy joined the other two men in the sitting-room, Bingley still chuckling while Hurst settled on a sofa, watching Darcy.
“Iamcurious, Darcy,” said Hurst. “Your conversation with Miss Elizabethwasextensive. What were you discussing? If it is not personal, of course.”
“Do you suppose Darcy was proposing on the spot?” chortled Bingley. “There are few ladies who would not accept my imposing friend the moment he asked, but I dare say Miss Elizabeth is one of them.”
“It wasnotpersonal,” replied Darcy. “We spoke of several subjects—her family’s situation, her mother, her younger sisters . . .”
Hurst eyed him and then nodded. “That is not what one would find in a man trying to make love to a woman, but itisan improvement.”
Darcy decided it was best to ignore Hurst’s comment about making love. “To own the truth, I understand Mrs. Bennet a little more than I did before. The youngest girls are still wild, their father indolent, and the mother is still silly, but I now understand the subtleties of their situation a little better.”
“Enough to endure Mrs. Bennet for a lifetime?” challenged Hurst. His look encompassed them both. “Mrs. Bennet willlikely outlive her husband, as I judge she is several years younger—should that come to pass, you will be responsible for her care.”
Bingley exchanged a look with Darcy.
“For my part,” said Bingley, “Miss Bennet is worth enduring her mother. Once she has no more reason to fear for her security, I cannot but suppose she will become more tolerable.”
“For mine,” added Darcy, “I have made no decision yet about Miss Elizabeth. Sheisa worthy woman, but I cannot say yet whether I will try to advance our acquaintance.
“Having said that, I do not consider her mother an impediment if I decide in her favor. Pemberley has a spacious dower house in which Mrs. Bennet could live if needs must.”
The nod Hurst offered was not unexpected. “Then I was correct to write to you, Darcy. Your future is your own business, and I shall not presume to direct you. As you can act without considering fortune, you may choose to pursue Miss Elizabeth if you wish. About the only person who will protest is Caroline.”
“Not at all, Hurst,” said Darcy, leaning back in his chair. “I know you have heard something of my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Miss Bingley’s response will be nothing compared with the utter fury with which her ladyship will greet the news of my engagement, should Miss Elizabeth accept me.”
“Your portrayal of your aunt is droll, Darcy,” said Bingley.
“Then it is not an accurate picture of her at all; there is nothing droll about Lady Catherine.”
Bingley nodded but turned his thoughts back to the Bennets. “I appreciate your changed impression of the Bennets, Darcy. They are not so reprehensible as you thought.”
“I cannot say that I found them reprehensible,” replied Darcy. “Their situation is not perfect, to be certain, but their like can be found in every corner of England.”
Appearing distracted, Bingley stared across the room at some vision only he could see. Darcy did not know what had affected him, but Hurst appeared to have more of an idea.
