Fitzwilliam’s response was nothing more than an absent nod. Then he sighed and focused his attention again on Darcy.
“If you wish to hear my opinion, I shall tell you, though I suspect you will not like it.”
“I am not Lady Catherine, Cousin. You may say anything you like. Whether I agree is another matter altogether.”
“Very well.” Fitzwilliam regarded him with no trace of hesitation. “I believe it is for the best that Bingley didnotreturn to Hertfordshire, and I do not say that because of my interest in Miss Bennet. These past weeks, I have learned many things about Miss Bennet. She is a fine woman with excellent qualities, but she is not a forceful woman. Should they have married, she is so unassuming and Bingley so complying that I suspect Miss Bingley would have caused trouble between them. Perhaps she would not have ruled them, but I believe she would have exerted far more influence than she should.
“Miss Bennet requires a husband who will not only love her but provide the firm foundation of a marriage, and Bingley is not steady enough to provide it. Perhaps when he obtains maturity that will change, but to own the truth, he is still too young and uncertain to take a wife.”
It was a perceptive observation, and one about which Darcy’s consciousness had flitted for some time, though he had never considered it in such concise terms. Bingleywasstill young, only two and twenty, and had moved through life eager for the next ball, the next party, paying little attention to the more serious things in life. Even his venture into estate management had not released a more sober side of him, for Bingley had spent those months at Netherfield paying little attention to the estate. While it was true that it had been in the autumn, there were still tasks to complete at any time of the year, yet he had been little interested in them.
“I can see you understand what I am saying,” observed Fitzwilliam.
Darcy nodded. “I have often wished that Bingley were firmer to his purpose, or even had a purpose at all. Miss Bingleyisof a forceful disposition—you are correct to apprehend that Miss Bennet’s reticent temperament, coupled with Bingley’s compliance, would be an irresistible lure to Miss Bingley. She already believes she controls herbrother.”
Fitzwilliam’s expression softened. “Then let me tie this discussion back to my interest in Miss Bennet. My esteem for her is such that it would pain me to see Miss Bennet in a difficult situation. She is a fine woman, but I believe she needs a husband who will take the lead and protect her. I am such a man—whether Bingley is I shall not attempt to judge, though I have my suspicions.”
“Which brings us back to my friendship with him,” said Darcy. “Though I am concerned, there is nothing to be done. The die is cast and cannot be undone. If you provoke Miss Bennet’s regard, I shall do nothing other than wish you felicity in marriage. Should Bingley end our friendship because of it, I shall regret it, but there is nothing I can do to change it.”
“That is all you can do, Darcy,” replied Fitzwilliam. “For what it is worth, Bingley should understand that it is his doing and his alone that led to this situation. If he does not, perhaps your friendship should end.”
Darcy could say nothing to that. In his heart, he suspected Fitzwilliam was correct.
THERE WAS SOMETHINGdifferent about Mr. Darcy’s behavior that day, and Elizabeth suspected she understood what it was. The gentlemen had not come to Longbourn the previous day, so something might have happened then. Yet Elizabeth thought she could trace the return of the gentleman’s quietude to the last few moments of their last visit.
If Elizabeth were honest with herself, she could do nothing other than confess her surprise at the closeness that had developed between them. Elizabeth was not in love with the gentleman—that much was clear to her. Yet her feelings for him were far warmer than she had ever thought they would be. Mr. Darcy was still the reticent man he had been then, but he had paired that reticence with behavior that was both softer and more engaged than before. He would never be a man who would draw attention to himself with the force of his personality, but Elizabeth found she liked the gentleman he was now far better than she thought she would.
Where this left them, Elizabeth did not know. Despite any improvement in his behavior, the disparity between them was unchanged. Mr. Darcy was a gentleman, and Elizabeth was a gentleman’s daughter, but otherwise their situations in life were not at all alike. Mr. Darcy was the scion of a long line of wealthy landowners with ties to a noble family, while Elizabeth’s forebears were smallcountry squires, part of that privileged class, but not prominent in any way. Men of Fitzwilliam Darcy’s position in society did not pay attention to women in hers. Then again, Colonel Fitzwilliam was from a sphere even higher than Mr. Darcy’s, and his interest in Jane could not be misunderstood.
The most difficult part of this was Elizabeth’s inability to understand her sentiments. Did she wish for Mr. Darcy’s attention? The rational woman in her could not deny her curiosity, while that same woman recalled the slight from the cold and haughty gentleman. The Mr. Darcy before her now bore only a passing familiarity to that man.
In the end, Elizabeth could do nothing but push such thoughts away. There was no telling what would happen, and Elizabeth did not wish to push the discovery along anyway. It was much better to allow their connection to develop naturally and allow Mr. Darcy to make his case if that was what he decided. It would do no good to continue exasperating herself on the subject, so she did not.
“Might I ask for your advice, Miss Elizabeth?” asked Mr. Darcy.
As Elizabeth suspected he wished to speak about whatever had caused his silence, she assented at once. “Of course, Mr. Darcy. I suppose it concerns my sister and your cousin?”
The gentleman fixed her with a soft smile—Elizabeth had become more accustomed to it the longer the gentleman stayed in the neighborhood. “I must remember that your powers of observation are profound, Miss Elizabeth. It should not be a surprise that you have seen something of my confusion.”
“It would be best if you remembered that, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, channeling a little of that impertinence Miss Bingley had deplored.
With a chuckle, the gentleman shook his amusement away. “It is, though I have been considering a potential consequence of my cousin’s interest in your sister.”
Mr. Darcy told her everything, from his concern about his friendship with Mr. Bingley ending, Colonel Fitzwilliam’s comments about Mr. Bingley’s complying character, and Jane’s need for a husband who would protect her. Elizabeth agreed with every particular, but she could sense that Mr. Darcy’s anxiety about losing his friendship was real.
“It is not my place to say anything about your friendship, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth when he had related all. “I know little of it and would not presume to direct you either. I shall tell you somethingabout my sister and myself that you do not know.”
When Mr. Darcy looked on her with curiosity, Elizabeth accepted this as an invitation to proceed.
“Mr. Darcy, I presume you have seen enough of my family to understand certain facts about us.”
The gentleman considered this and then ventured: “Do you refer to certain dynamics within your family, or do you speak of character traits?”
“Both,” replied Elizabeth. “My mother was not born a gentlewoman, Mr. Darcy, and she sometimes does not know how to behave.”
“If you will pardon me,” said Mr. Darcy, his manner suggesting he did not know how she would respond, “your father has a duty to instruct if her knowledge is deficient.”
“That is so,” replied Elizabeth. “Though I love my father, I am not blind to his failings. My father did not understand the truth about my mother before he married her. All he saw was her vivacity and her beauty.”
