Chapter 10 #2
As they spoke, the door, which had been standing partially ajar, opened wider, and the earl entered the room.
His step paused almost imperceptibly upon taking in the scene before him, his gaze moving at once from his granddaughter to Mr Darcy and lingering there a fraction longer than courtesy required.
Neither of them saw him at first, for they continued speaking without acknowledging his entry.
“My dear Elizabeth,” her grandfather said, his voice carrying a tone of disapproval she was unused to hearing from him, “I was certain I should find you here after my meeting with the steward. Tell me, how did you find Mrs Smith?”
Elizabeth turned towards her grandfather at once, her expression settling into affectionate composure.
“She has been quite unwell, it seems, and unwilling to ask for additional help,” she replied.
“I hope she is on the mend. I carried her some broth and a few herbs the apothecary recommended on my previous visit, and I promised to call again in a few days. I have also asked Mr Jones to check on her tomorrow, letting her know that the estate will handle the costs.”
“That was very good of you,” Mr Darcy said quietly, his tone sincere.
“Such attentions often do more than the remedies themselves. It is the duty of the mistress to attend to the tenants, yet too few young ladies in society appear willing to accept the responsibility. Netherfield has certainly benefited from having you as its mistress, especially as you have not resided there.”
Elizabeth glanced towards him, surprised by the directness of his praise, and found him regarding her with an expression of earnest approval that stirred something unexpectedly warm within her. She smiled before she could prevent it.
Despite her earlier reservations, she was obliged to admit she found him far more interesting than she once had.
He had, it was true, avoided her during the early part of her stay at Netherfield—a circumstance she had regarded with some curiosity; yet since his apology, her opinion of him had softened further.
Their conversations had been open and engaging, yet that reserve had now returned, and she could not account for it.
His changeability puzzled her but did not displease her; on the contrary, it engaged her attention more fully, for she was now convinced he was, at heart, a good man, if a bit reserved.
Darcy’s lips lifted in answer to her smile, the movement hesitant, as though uncertain how much warmth he dared display. For a fleeting moment, she believed the distance between them had lessened.
It shifted almost at once. His expression grew composed, the ease she had glimpsed retreating behind a formality she had come to recognise. He lowered his gaze, and when he looked at her again, there was a restraint in his manner she could not explain.
She had not spoken incautiously, nor perceived any impropriety in their exchange. If he felt the need to withdraw, she could not determine why.
Her grandfather inclined his head in agreement, yet his approval was restrained. His mouth tightened, and his gaze returned to Mr Darcy with a coolness that left little doubt as to his assessment. The pause that followed suggested displeasure firmly held in check, rather than uncertainty.
“Few young women possess my granddaughter’s steadiness of mind,” Lord Granfield said at last, his tone measured and affectionate where Elizabeth was concerned. “Netherfield benefits from it daily, and I see no future in which it does not continue to do so.”
Elizabeth observed the change in her grandfather’s countenance with mild confusion.
That her constancy should be spoken of as fixed and unalterable struck her as curious.
It occurred to her that he might disapprove of her conversation with Mr Darcy—or of something within it—but she could not be certain, nor fully account for such a reaction.
Nor could she understand why praise of her attentions should produce anything but satisfaction in him.
“I have enjoyed assisting with the tenants at both Netherfield and Longbourn,” Elizabeth said, attempting to placate her grandfather while casting a troubled glance at Mr Darcy.
“Grandmama Bennet was of great aid in teaching Jane and me our duties towards our tenants, and of course your sister provided additional instruction whenever I visited Granfield Park. Aunt Rosalind is still there, Grandpapa, and I hope you will allow us to journey to see her before we go to London for the Season. Having grown up in the country, I vastly prefer it, but I will confess I look forward to spending a short time in the capital and the entertainments it affords.”
The conversation continued along this vein for several minutes, chiefly between Elizabeth and Darcy while the earl regarded them in silence, one brow arched, his posture held in rigid composure.
Elizabeth was keenly aware of her grandfather’s apparent displeasure, yet she could not entirely divine its cause.
She felt his gaze more than once and was relieved when Miss Darcy joined them, taking a seat beside her on the settee.
At once, the earl’s countenance softened into something more agreeable.
The conversation returned to the amusements of London, and Elizabeth was pleased to observe that Miss Darcy grew gradually more at ease and began to express herself with greater confidence.
“When will the colonel arrive?” Elizabeth asked when the conversation had begun to lapse. She knew her grandfather had invited him, but she had not yet heard when he was expected.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam wrote to me last week, and his letter reached me yesterday,” the earl replied. “He expected to be in London within a fortnight of its writing and means to come on here as soon as he can make the necessary arrangements to journey from Town.”
Georgiana smiled at this news, her hands clasping briefly in her lap.
“Oh, I am so happy to be able to spend a few weeks with Cousin Richard,” she exclaimed, turning eagerly to Elizabeth.
“He is an awful lot like you, Miss Bennet—or at least that is what William says. He also tells me we are to remain here until after the new year, and I am equally delighted to have more time in your company.” She leant a little closer as she continued, her eyes bright.
“Will your cousins visit us at Millwood Cottage? I understand you have four cousins who are as near to you as sisters. I have so few friends of my own age, and I am very much looking forward to meeting them all.”
Elizabeth smiled, tempering Georgiana’s eagerness with caution.
“You are very kind to wish it so,” she said.
“Jane and I are indeed extremely close, and I am certain you would like her. The others are quite different in temperament. Mary is fond of reading—though her tastes run more to sermons and Fordyce—while Kitty and Lydia delight in fashion and society. I mention it only so that you may not be surprised; our pursuits do not always align. Still, I hope you will find something to like in each of them. I can send a note asking them all to call one afternoon so you can meet them. Aunt Bennet will certainly come as well, and I will warn you, she is quite exuberant.”
Georgiana leant back in her chair, considering the matter.
“If they were all to come at once, I fear I should not have the opportunity to know any of them well,” she said slowly, her voice hesitant as if she was anxious not to give offence.
“Do you think you might encourage them to visit in smaller parties? In that way, I should be better able to speak with each of them in a more intimate setting. I would be afraid to speak if they were all here at once.”
Elizabeth smiled again at the younger girl and reached out, resting her hand lightly over Georgiana’s folded hands in her lap.
“I will write to Jane and make that suggestion,” she said.
“She might come first with Mary, as your brother tells me you play the pianoforte very well. Mary also plays—earnestly and with great perseverance—and though she has never had a master, she is quite correct in her technique.”
Elizabeth became gradually aware that Mr Darcy had remained silent throughout the exchange.
When she glanced towards him, she found him observing them with an expression softened by something she had not often seen directed towards her before.
It stirred her more than she cared to examine too closely.
Georgiana’s reserve had lessened in her company, and Elizabeth could not quite determine whether it was that ease, or Mr Darcy’s quiet attention to it, that unsettled her most.
One morning not long after his arrival, the earl invited Darcy into his study for a brief conversation.
He was not surprised by the summons—at least, not at first, for they had spent several hours together each day during his visit—but he soon deduced the reason for this particular invitation when he observed the earl’s rigid posture and the deliberateness with which he sat behind his desk rather than in one of the chairs before the fire.
“Darcy,” the earl began, after they had exchanged a few trivialities, fixing him with a steady, assessing look, “I knew your father well and respected him greatly, which is why I must speak plainly to you now. I cannot help but think he would be far from pleased with what I have seen unfolding of late.”
Darcy looked up, startled by the words, and straightened at once. “In what manner, my lord?”