Chapter 5
After the ball, it seemed to Elizabeth that hardly a day went by that she did not see Mr Darcy and Lord Bramwell.
A period of lovely weather descended on the city, which meant she, they, and many others were often out, relishing the changes spring brought.
She had the impression that the viscount took pleasure in her company, and she quite liked him as well—but as a friend only; she had no expectation that either of them would ever feel more for each other than that.
As for Mr Darcy, despite Lord Bramwell’s complimentary remarks about him, Elizabeth saw little to admire.
It was true that he was handsome, had a lean, athletic form she appreciated, his voice was deep and rich, and she believed he was intelligent, but he evidently did not approve of her, which meant she would not approve of him.
She assumed his dislike was because she was not grand enough for him, despite her connexion to Mrs Ryde and Lord Halsley.
While he appeared to appreciate their company, he seldom even spoke to her.
In early May, the young gentlemen escorted her and Mrs Ryde on a walk through the grounds of Trinity College. There was something particularly awe-inspiring about visiting places dedicated to advanced learning, and her eager eyes took in every detail, knowing her father would want to hear about it.
“Which university did you attend?” she asked Lord Bramwell, who was to her left; she also glanced to her right, where Mr Darcy walked, Mrs Ryde’s arm in his.
“Cambridge,” the viscount said. “Both of our families are Cambridge people.”
“As is my husband’s family,” Mrs Ryde added. “My brother and their fathers were there together. They were all good friends by that time, and it must have increased their enjoyment—but possibly not the efforts they put into their studies!”
Elizabeth and Lord Bramwell laughed; Mr Darcy only smiled.
“It must be lovely to be part of such a community, to gather together to learn about the world and all its wonders,” Elizabeth said.
She sighed and took in the view, from the trees to the buildings and the people, some who had evidently come to see the college as they had, but others who had business there.
“Some of us did more learning than others while at Cambridge,” Mr Darcy said.
It was surprising enough that he was the one who had replied, but that he sounded amused almost made her gape.
“He means me,” Lord Bramwell said. “I beg you to overlook my cousin’s implication that I am not a serious person, Miss Bennet. I assure you, I learnt everything I needed to. Mrs Ryde, you will defend my character, will you not?”
“Most certainly,” the lady said. “Though you do not need it. We all know Darcy was making a joke, and since Lizzy loves to laugh, I thank him for it.”
Elizabeth was not convinced Mr Darcy possessed a sense of humour, but she dutifully chuckled.
“Would you attend university, if you could?” the viscount asked her.
“I would,” Elizabeth said immediately. She had often wished that such opportunities were available to ladies. Once again, she was surprised to hear Mr Darcy’s voice.
“Would you?” he said. “I doubt many ladies would want to go or, if they did, would find it much to their liking once they were there. Being a student at an institution such as this”—he nodded to indicate the Trinity grounds—“is a far cry from working with a governess or even being at a girls’ school. ”
A flash of anger coursed through her, heating her cheeks.
How dare he criticise her, treat her as though she were an ignorant child instead of a grown lady who was free to have and state her opinions?
He had done it before, the very day they had met when she had expressed her views of the conditions of Irish farmers.
“May I ask the basis of your knowledge on this matter, sir, of why you feel women are not suited to higher education?”
He looked startled—probably that she dared to question him rather than meekly accept his word—and said, “I did n—”
“No debates in my hearing!” Lord Bramwell interjected. “I believe I spoke to you two about this before. I dare not leave you alone when such a contentious subject arises. You are likely to come to fisticuffs.”
Mrs Ryde laughed merrily. “You are as amusing as ever, Bramwell. I hope you always will be.”
“I shall endeavour to be so, if only to please you,” he said.
Elizabeth saw him bow his head out of the corner of her eye; her gaze was on Mr Darcy. He had looked away from her at once, his lips tightly pressed together.
“Darcy’s sister, Georgiana, has recently left school,” the viscount said a moment later. “I suppose he was thinking of her. I cannot recall, Miss Bennet, did you attend school?”
Darcy watched as Miss Bennet and Bramwell walked ahead of him and Mrs Ryde.
The path had narrowed, no longer permitting them to walk four across.
When his cousin had made the stupid comment about debates—as though he were about to argue with Miss Bennet!
—he had been on the point of saying she had misunderstood him and explain that his knowledge came from his role as guardian to his much-younger sister.
I should be glad he told her that much, he reflected, wishing he had caught her response to Bramwell’s question.
Instead, he gave his attention to Mrs Ryde, who, after speaking about the weather, how satisfying it was to see the trees and other plants growing so quickly, and the pleasantness of their current situation, mentioned her companion.
“I cannot tell you how much I appreciate having her with me. Her father might wish it were otherwise, but Lizzy has an adventurous soul, and once the possibility of coming to Ireland was presented to her, she would not have been content to remain in England. I consider her an honorary niece, you know. When my dear friend Elizabeth, her aunt and godmother, died, I felt it was my duty to ensure that Lizzy was…well taken care of, I suppose, for my friend’s sake.
That might make it sound like I do not esteem Lizzy for herself, but that is far from true. ”
If you think so highly of her, why employ her?
Why not simply adopt her, actually treat her as your niece?
It was easily done without removing her from her family.
Darcy would never make such enquires, but he was curious and a little disappointed in Mrs Ryde, which he did not like to admit, even to himself.
From what he knew of Miss Bennet, her prospects in terms of attracting an eligible gentleman had probably never been good; after all, her family was not prosperous and she had connexions in trade.
But her chances of marrying must have been damaged by taking employment, albeit as a companion to a well-respected lady such as Mrs Ryde.
Part of him pitied her. She is handsome and seems to have more wit to her than many young ladies and more liveliness, which are valuable attributes.
While he could never have looked at her as a possible wife—her lack of fortune and connexions were insurmountable barriers—other less fastidious gentlemen might have.
A sudden lump in his throat threatened to strangle him, and he swallowed heavily.
His eyes were fixed on her back, the gentle sway of her blue skirt as she walked, the sound of her laugh just reaching his ears.
It was like a warm blanket on the coldest winter’s night, and—loath as he was to admit it—her ever-present cheerfulness lightened the heaviness he had hardly recognised he carried inside of him before he met her.
But I could never be attracted to a poor woman, especially one like her! It is impossible! He might as well marry a governess.
Towards the middle of May, Elizabeth attended a dinner party.
The guests included many notable local officials, the Lord Mayor amongst them.
She was increasingly comfortable in such exalted company, thanks to the time she had spent with Lord Halsley and Mrs Ryde, and appreciated hearing the erudite conversations at such occasions.
Lord Bramwell and Mr Darcy were also in attendance.
She had seen the gentlemen since their visit to Trinity College, and while she continued to find the viscount’s company engaging, she did her best to avoid his cousin.
This evening, she was not so fortunate. They had not spoken before the meal, but both gentlemen approached her after dinner.
As much as Elizabeth had fought against the impulse, she had found herself frequently glancing at Mr Darcy, and her ear seemed to catch what he was saying far too often when they were at the table, where he had been seated across from her.
It was impossible not to notice how well he looked in the particular shade of green he happened to be wearing that evening.
It accentuated the richness of his dark hair and eyes.
It is insupportable to find a gentleman at once so appealing and completely offensive! The thought flowed through her at the same time that she was curtseying and saying her words of greeting to him and the viscount.
“Miss Bennet, you look absolutely charming tonight,” Lord Bramwell said. He turned to his cousin and added, “Do you not agree? How could you not?”
Mr Darcy dipped his chin and said, “How do you do?”
Meeting her eye, Lord Bramwell looked upwards, seeming to silently mock his cousin’s stiff demeanour.
Suppressing her urge to laugh, she said, “I am very well, thank you.”
The viscount said, “Now that we have that unnecessary formality out of the way—any fool could see that she is in excellent health—”
“It is called good manners,” Mr Darcy muttered.