“If you will pardon me,” said Mr. Bennet, showing he had continued to follow their conversation, “Bingley has no one but himself to blame if he is distressed.”
“You are correct to an extent,” said Mr. Darcy. “His sisters persuaded him against returning, and I had some small part in that business, but yes, the decision was his.”
“A man who will not fight to return to the woman he professes to love must reconsider the state of his feelings. He cannot be worthy of her if he is led so easily.”
“With that, I cannot disagree.” Elizabeth noticed that while Mr. Darcy spoke to her father, his eyes remained on her. “If I loved a woman, nothing short of a regiment could keep me from her.”
“Excellent,” said Mr. Bennet, satisfied. “I expected nothing less, but a little confirmation cannot go amiss.”
“In answer to your question, Miss Elizabeth, I do not know what will happen.”
Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. “Then I shall hope that Mr. Bingley is reasonable and learns from this business. I have always thought him an excellent man, but I shall not repine the loss of his friendship if he elects to be offended.”
“I shall strive to echo your philosophy,” said Mr. Darcy. “But it seems best to seek our own situation against Bingley’s possible offense.”
With a nod, Elizabeth determined to put the subject to the side. “Unless my memory is faulty, you suggested there were other matters you wished to speak of.”
“The other is my sister, Georgiana. If you are amenable, I should like to introduce her to your acquaintance.”
Elizabeth fixed him with a wry grin. “I have no objection, Mr. Darcy, other than a sense of trepidation for making the acquaintance of the towering presence that is your sister. Tell me—is she as imposing as Miss Bingley’s description suggests?”
The gentleman chuckled and said: “Not at all, Miss Elizabeth. Georgiana is a shy creature, one who has often wanted for friends. I have not suggested that she come to Hertfordshire yet, but I know she will be eager.”
“Then you must invite her at the earliest opportunity,” said Elizabeth. “Can I infer that you will not bring her to Meryton until after you remove from Netherfield?”
“That would be for the best,” agreed Mr. Darcy.
“If you will pardon me,” said Mary, again interrupting their conversation, “that is an unmistakable sign of favor, Lizzy.”
“I am glad you see it that way, Miss Mary,” said Mr. Darcy. “I would appreciate it very much if you would all welcome my sister when she comes.”
Mary glanced at Elizabeth. “My sister has told me that Miss Darcy enjoys the pianoforte.”
“She does,” agreed Mr. Darcy.
“Then I hope we shall get on well.”
For Mary, her statement was akin to an expression of excitement, though she kept her composure. Mr. Darcy seemed to sense this, for he smiled, though he did not comment further on the subject.
THE LONGER DARCY SPENTat Longbourn, the more he realized how comfortable he was there. Before his return, he had considered the family reprehensible, but somehow he had learned to see them with a kindlier eye. The Bennets were not high society, the mistress flighty and improper, the youngest girls in desperate need of guidance, but they were gentlefolk, people worthy of respect. They were people, nothing more or less than he could find in any corner of the kingdom.
The thought humbled him. Somehow, he had learned to judge others through the lens of high society, but the truth was that he found the Bennets more tolerable than many of those who considered themselves high and mighty. Darcy had never held with that set, hadalways chosen friends carefully, wishing to ensure they espoused the same standards of morality he had always striven to uphold himself. To reject such people was not only wrong but nonsensical.
Darcy was relieved he had learned the lesson when he did; had he not learned it, he might have missed the chance to make Miss Elizabeth esteem him, thrown away the love of a woman who would be the making of him. Now that his eyes were open, he meant to ensure that he made the most of it. Whether Elizabeth would accept him, he could not say, but he knew the experience would make him a better man.
“You have become introspective again, Mr. Darcy.”
Miss Elizabeth was grinning at him, this time her expression soft and amused rather than the sarcasm he now knew had formed most of her opinions before. Mr. Bennet, he noted, had an open book in his hand, though Darcy suspected he was still watching the room. Miss Mary was also holding a book—she was also observing the rest of the room, exchanging a few comments with her father as they sat together. It appeared it was all the privacy he was to have with Miss Elizabeth that day.
“Your understanding of my character is sufficient to apprehend that it is not an uncommon occurrence.”
“It is,” said Miss Elizabeth. “Yet I cannot help but wonder if this business is doomed if I cannot even hold your attention for a few minutes.”
Several factors motivated her jest—true amusement, understanding, curiosity, and Darcy even detected a trace of uncertainty. In a woman so self-assured as Miss Elizabeth, it was charming rather than concerning.
“Then perhaps I should reconsider my approach,” said he. “Tell me, Miss Elizabeth—would constant and open devotion work better than occasional introspection?”
She rolled her eyes at his jest. “No, Mr. Darcy, I do not require you to act as Mr. Bingley did toward Jane. I can withstand introspection, for I know you are capable of interesting conversation when the mood strikes.”
