“That is all I shall accept at present, Mr. Darcy.”
“Then we are understood.”
Chapter X
“Netherfield will no longer be an option if your friend decides to be angry with my interest in Miss Bennet. Do you suppose it would be best to find alternative accommodations?”
It was a notion that had not yet crossed Darcy’s mind, though he knew he was working toward it. While Darcy could not imagine an angry Bingley, so jovial was his temperament, these were uncharted waters.
“In all honesty,” replied Darcy, “I cannot say what Bingley will do.”
Fitzwilliam nodded, his glance taking in the room around them, the main sitting-room at Netherfield Park. “Netherfield is convenient to Longbourn, but I have no wish for Bingley to throw me from the premises. I have no notion of what else is in the area, but it may be best to search for alternate accommodations.”
Darcy pondered what that would mean. “Can you afford to lease another estate?”
“If it is a small property,” said Fitzwilliam with a grimace. “It will affect my future, but for the moment, the most important consideration is the ability to stay near Miss Bennet.
“And before you say it,” said Fitzwilliam, glaring athim, “I will not accept your charity.”
“Why you would consider it charity, I do not know. Do I not have a similar reason to remain in residence?”
Speculation bloomed on his cousin’s face. “So, you mean to pursue Miss Elizabeth?”
“That remains uncertain,” replied Darcy. “I have only just confessed my interest—it is much too early for anything else. However, thatdoesgive me a reason to stay. If I were to move from Netherfield, that might draw Bingley’s interest, but you are correct. Should Bingley still consider himself infatuated with Miss Bennet, his resentment against me may exceed his blame for you.”
Fitzwilliam eyed him for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, you may be right.
“I have not been living here at Bingley’s largesse,” added Fitzwilliam. “While Bingley pays the lease and the servants, I have been managing the purchase of the food and other such expenses. Should you look into another estate, perhaps I can provide similar support.”
“You know I can better afford it, Cousin,” said Darcy.
“That is beyond question. Yet a man prefers to make his own way in the world. It would help my sense of independence if I contributed to our expenses.”
“Then I shall contact my man in London and instruct him to look into properties in the area,” said Darcy. “I have no notion if there is anything in the immediate community, but perhaps we can find something within five or ten miles.”
“It is not ideal,” said Fitzwilliam, “but I suspect it is for the best.”
Whatever Darcy meant to say next remained a mystery, for a commotion arose in the hall outside. Darcy met Fitzwilliam’s eyes, the confusion lasting for only a moment—a voice rose above the tumult, one they would both know anywhere. It was Lady Catherine.
“It appears we may have misjudged Lady Catherine,” said Fitzwilliam, standing as the noise approached the sitting-room door.
“Unless she saw something in Collins’s account that suggested her designs for Anne and me were in danger.”
“Collins said nothing about it.”
“That does not mean Lady Catherine did not infer.”
Fitzwilliam nodded but could say nothing else. The door swung open, and the tall form of Lady Catherine swept into the room, her cane clattering by her side. Though it was often difficult to tell—Lady Catherine was in a temper as often as not—it was clear to them boththat she was most displeased.
WHAT THE GENTLEMANat Netherfield did not know was that Lady Catherine made another stop before confronting them. Not an hour after their departure, the family—other than Mr. Bennet, who had retired to his study—heard carriage wheels crunching on the gravel driveway. A moment later, they heard a loud voice raised in demand, then Mrs. Hill scurried into the room, leading a tall lady wearing expensive clothing.
She was an imperious woman, erect and proud, her gaze spearing each Bennet lady in turn. From the curl of her lip, she was not impressed by what she saw. For a moment, no one spoke; the Bennet ladies were caught in shock and confusion, while the lady inspected them as if they were livestock at market.
“Where is she?” boomed the lady at last.
Mrs. Bennet started in response. “Where is who? And who are you?”
It was not the most coherent reply imaginable, but Elizabeth could not blame her mother—she was just as confused. The lady, far from recognizing that she had barged into the house of another without even a by your leave, glared at Mrs. Bennet. To her credit, Mrs. Bennet did not flinch, though it was clear she was a woman of high society, accustomed to deference.
