TWENTY-TWO
Longbourn.
Darcy
The ride to Longbourn did not proceed entirely as Darcy had expected.
Having agreed readily enough the previous day to accompany Bingley upon his visit to Longbourn, the arrangement had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time.
Since he had already requested Miss Elizabeth’s assistance in showing him something of the neighbourhood, with Mr. Bennet’s approval, Darcy considered it only proper to call first upon the family rather than arrive for the excursion as little more than a stranger to the household.
Yet as the carriage rolled nearer to Longbourn, Darcy became uncomfortably aware that his composure was abandoning him with rather greater speed than reason justified.
The old sensation returned again, unwelcome and familiar, that quiet feeling that by permitting himself enjoyment in the company of another lady, he somehow betrayed the memory of the wife he had buried.
Though reason had long since begun disputing the fairness of such thoughts, habit did not surrender easily.
Darcy drew a measured breath and forced his attention elsewhere.
Through the carriage window he observed the house as they approached along the narrow lane, taking in the modest red brick, the uneven gravel before the entrance, and the gardens subdued now beneath late autumn.
Nothing about Longbourn aspired to grandeur.
It possessed instead the comfortable appearance of a house thoroughly lived in, where practicality had long ago triumphed over elegance.
It was not neglect precisely. Merely inattention, the sort Elizabeth had once laughingly attributed to her father’s management of the estate.
“You have become very quiet,” Bingley observed from the opposite seat, interrupting his thoughts.
“I am generally quiet.”
“Yes, but not usually in a manner suggesting you are preparing yourself for an interview with Parliament.”
Darcy spared him a dry look. Bingley grinned without apology.
The carriage slowed at last before the house.
Before the wheels had properly settled, Marsh had already descended with the quiet efficiency of long practice to attend to the chair.
Bingley stepped down first whilst Darcy waited through the familiar business without impatience.
It could not be hurried and he had long since ceased wishing otherwise.
The front door opened before they properly reached it.
Mrs. Bennet emerged with evident pleasure at Bingley’s arrival, only for that pleasure to falter briefly at the sight of Darcy beside him before recovering itself almost immediately into determined warmth.
“Mr. Bingley, how delightful to see you again.” Her smile softened slightly as she turned toward Darcy. “And Mr. Darcy, what a very pleasant surprise. Pray come in.”
Darcy, now properly settled in his chair, inclined his head politely.
“Good morning, Mrs. Bennet.”
Marsh guided the chair over the threshold with practised ease whilst Mrs. Bennet attempted, with mixed success, not to appear excessively attentive to the process.
The drawing room beyond was warm, crowded, and unmistakably inhabited. Books lay abandoned upon tables, embroidery rested unfinished beside the sofa, and from somewhere upstairs came a female voice at a volume Darcy immediately recognised as Lydia Bennet’s.
Having already met the entire Bennet family at various assemblies, he required no further introductions to identify the source.
Darcy found himself unexpectedly amused.
Mr. Bennet entered shortly afterwards from somewhere beyond the hall.
“Mr. Darcy,” he said easily, extending a hand. “Welcome to Longbourn.”
“Mr. Bennet.” Darcy returned the greeting firmly. “You have a very pleasant house.”
Mr. Bennet’s expression suggested himself quietly entertained by the visible confusion in his wife’s face at the warmth with which the two gentlemen greeted one another.
Recovering herself quickly, Mrs. Bennet called for tea and refreshments to be brought at once.
Darcy attended only partially to the ensuing conversation regarding their journey from Netherfield. His attention had already begun wandering elsewhere entirely.
As though providence had taken pity upon him, footsteps sounded in the corridor beyond, followed moments later by Elizabeth herself appearing at the doorway with Jane beside her.
Elizabeth’s brows lifted very slightly upon seeing him.
The surprise lasted scarcely an instant before composure reclaimed its place, though not before a warmth crossed her expression which Darcy caught immediately.
“Mr. Bingley,” she said with a curtsey before turning toward him. “Mr. Darcy. I had not expected to see you today.”
“I hope the surprise is not unwelcome.”
Darcy watched her glance away briefly toward the window, smiling faintly before looking back at him once more.
“Not at all, sir.”
“When Bingley informed me of his intention to visit Miss Bennet today, I thought it proper to call upon your family officially and finally see something of Longbourn beyond your descriptions at Netherfield.”
Elizabeth laughed softly, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her bonnet.
Even in a simple white morning gown she appeared remarkably handsome.
Not with Jane’s obvious beauty, which drew admiration immediately and effortlessly, but with something considerably more dangerous, a countenance made infinitely more affecting each time she smiled or spoke.
Her eyes were, he found, as fine as he remembered.
Darcy became aware, not for the first time, that he was looking at her too long.
Kitty and Mary Bennet joined the party shortly afterwards, and before long the drawing room settled into comfortable disorder.
Bingley had already established himself beside Jane, the two speaking together with such easy absorption that little attention seemed left for anyone else in the room.
Darcy noticed the amused glances exchanged amongst her sisters at the sight.
Mrs. Bennet, on the other hand, was almost excessively warm in her attentions toward Bingley, though Darcy found himself less inclined to censure her for it than he once might have been.
A mother with five unmarried daughters could hardly be blamed for encouraging an attachment so evidently advantageous and sincere.
Not that Bingley required encouragement. Darcy had long since become convinced that he was entirely and irrevocably attached to Jane.
“Lizzy tells me you possess strong opinions upon poetry,” Mr. Bennet remarked suddenly, drawing Darcy’s attention back toward him.
Darcy inclined his head, his eyes darting briefly toward Elizabeth, who appeared faintly embarrassed by the declaration.
“We discussed Cowper during Miss Bennet’s stay at Netherfield,” he replied. “Miss Elizabeth possesses very decided opinions upon him.”
“Ha.” Mr. Bennet smiled dryly. “I suspected you would prove a gentleman inclined toward books. It is a weakness I share myself.”
“I also understand,” Darcy continued, “that you are an excellent chess instructor. I had the pleasure of a game with Miss. Elizabeth at Netherfield and found myself very nearly defeated.”
Mr. Bennet’s brows rose noticeably toward his daughter, as though discovering a detail he had not previously been permitted to know.
Mrs. Bennet looked similarly puzzled, though her curiosity faded quickly once Bingley directed some agreeable observation toward Jane.
“I did not know you played,” Mr. Bennet remarked.
“I find it useful in diverting my thoughts,” Darcy replied. “And it passes the time tolerably well.”
Mr. Bennet sighed thoughtfully, as though he detected something more beneath the words. “Then I suppose we must arrange a game one of these days should you determine to visit us again.”
“I should look forward to it, sir.”
The conversation continued pleasantly enough thereafter, Mrs. Bennet enquiring whether Hertfordshire remained agreeable despite the persistent rain.
“Extremely agreeable, ma’am,” Bingley declared warmly. “Indeed, Darcy and I hoped Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth might guide us to some of the places in the neighbourhood we have not yet properly seen.”
“Yes,” Mr. Bennet said with a nod, “Mr. Darcy mentioned that he thought it preferable to have company acquainted with the neighbourhood and capable of conversation rather than merely sending one of the servants to point out the roads.”
“If it would not inconvenience Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said, his eyes settling briefly upon Elizabeth, “I had hoped you might show us the common ground first. You spoke very favourably of it whilst at Netherfield, and I confess myself curious to see it properly.”
Elizabeth glanced briefly toward her father. Mr. Bennet answered with the slightest nod, which Darcy interpreted as permission for her to decide the matter herself.
“The ground should be pleasant since it has not rained these two days,” Elizabeth replied, after only the briefest hesitation.
“Excellent,” said Bingley at once, already half-rising with renewed enthusiasm. “Then we ought not lose the daylight unnecessarily.”
Mrs. Bennet appeared delighted by the arrangement, though Darcy suspected the opportunity for Jane to spend additional time with Bingley accounted for much of her satisfaction.
“Sarah may accompany the party,” Mr. Bennet remarked as he rose. “That ought to satisfy propriety sufficiently for Hertfordshire.”
The matter settled, Jane and Elizabeth withdrew upstairs almost immediately to prepare for the outing, leaving Mrs. Bennet calling after the housekeeper regarding pelisses whilst Lydia complained, with very little subtlety, that she and Kitty had been excluded from the excursion.