Chapter XII
“Miss Darcy,” said Mr. Bingley, a day after their engagement at Longbourn on New Year’s Eve, “what do you say about acting as Netherfield’s mistress while you are staying here?”
“Mistress?” asked Georgiana, nonplussed. “You wish me to act as your mistress?”
“I do,” replied Bingley with no hint of hesitation. “If you are willing.”
Georgiana did not appear to understand Bingley’s meaning, but Darcy understood it all too well. “Why do you suppose Bingley would wish for a mistress, Georgiana?”
When she turned to regard him, Darcy nodded toward Bingley. “Having a mistress in residence would allow Bingley much greater flexibility.”
Eyes wide, Georgiana turned back to their host. “You want to invite Miss Bennet’s family to Netherfield.”
Bingley grinned and did not deny it. “We are a dinner at Netherfield in their debt. Perhaps it is a fiction, but I do not suppose the Bennets will begrudge us.”
“Mrs. Bennet will not,” interjected Hurst, appearing amused. “Nor do I think Miss Bennet will object. Mr. Bennet and Miss Elizabeth will see through your fabrication, of course, but I doubt they will do anything other than laugh at it.”
“Then the path is clear.”
Bingley directed such a look of pleading at Georgiana that they all laughed at it, but she did not protest. “Very well, Mr. Bingley. I have enough experience managing my brother’s house that I suppose I can manage an evening in company with your lady and her family. Mrs. Annesley will assist me.”
The woman in question nodded, though she did not speak. Bingley beamed, his face as bright as a full moon.
“Excellent! I shall leave the details to you, Georgiana. Perhaps two or three days would be sufficient warning.”
Georgiana offered the invitation, and the Bennets accepted the dinner planned for three days after; then she began to make plans for the evening that very day.
Bingley was not idle in the interim, visiting Longbourn daily, always jovial, always eager, spending most of his time with Miss Bennet, though he tore himself away to speak with Mr. Bennet occasionally.
Darcy enjoyed the visits himself, and more than he thought he would, given his assessment of these people only a few short weeks before.
They were, he had to own, not so reprehensible as he had thought, though Mrs. Bennet was an inveterate fortune hunter and the youngest girls were just short of wild.
However, now that he understood Mrs. Bennet better, he knew she was not searching for riches—only for security.
Her way of expressing herself was not the best, and she had a far too tenuous grasp on propriety, but she loved her daughters and wanted the best for them.
That was enough to blunt Darcy’s discomfort with her frequent lapses—the rest of the time, he focused on Miss Elizabeth and ignored her mother.
As for the younger girls, they were too lively, but he sensed they only needed guidance.
The whole situation was nothing less than surreal to Darcy.
A month ago, he had departed from Netherfield, never intending to return.
His outward reason had been to prevent Bingley from making what he considered to be a mistake, but an equally powerful motivation, though he had not even confessed it to himself, was the desire to remove himself from the lure of Miss Elizabeth’s presence.
Yet now, provoked by a letter from Hurst about Wickham, he had returned, and was now contemplating whether he should pay her the highest compliment.
If Darcy looked into his heart with honesty, he knew there was no question about whether he wanted to deepen his connection with Miss Elizabeth.
The question was all about whether she would accept him.
Any notion that she would accept him for his wealth or position was nothing but hubris on his part.
Miss Elizabeth had proven her integrity—she was nothing like the Miss Bingleys of the world.
Darcy knew that she had not liked him much when he had been in Hertfordshire before, an opinion now given weight based on his observations and not just Hurst’s testimony.
Darcy’s opinion came from comparing how Miss Elizabeth had behaved with him before and her welcome for him now.
Whether the business with Wickham had changed her perspective or his own altered behavior was the cause Darcy could not say, but it was clear she welcomed him with far more warmth than she ever had in the autumn.
And Darcy had considered their exchanges playful!
It was clear now that they had been little more than arguments to her.
On the evening in question, the Bennet family arrived at Netherfield to Bingley’s enthusiastic welcome and the understated greetings of the rest of the party.
In the sitting-room before dinner, the company mingled, conversation partners a little fluid, as even Bingley spoke with Mr. Bennet and his wife, and exchanged a few words with Miss Elizabeth before turning his attention to Miss Bennet.
Darcy did the same, though he was most comfortable with Mr. Bennet and Miss Elizabeth.
How it arose, Darcy was uncertain, though he suspected the younger girls had arranged it, given their interest in such activities.
“Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Bennet, showing her excitable nature, “you must come to our Twelfth Night celebration, Mr. Bingley. All of you must come.”
“I believe I speak for my party that we shall be happy to attend,” said Bingley.
Darcy noted Hurst and Bennet exchanging glances and knew that not all the company was eager to partake in such amusements.
Even Darcy would not normally be interested in the fête, were it not for the assurance that Miss Elizabeth would be there.
The thought provoked another, and Darcy wondered if it would be too forward of him to ask her for her first dance that night.
“Well, Mr. Darcy?” said Miss Elizabeth a moment later, her eyebrow arched in challenge. “Is Mr. Bingley correct? Will all your party take pleasure in a Twelfth Night ball?”
Deciding at that moment, Darcy offered her a smile. “Bingley is eager, as you can see. Hurst is not at his best in social situations, and his wife is not present, but I have no objection to a ball. Tell me, Miss Elizabeth, does local society adhere to all the traditions associated with that event?”
Before Miss Elizabeth could respond, Elizabeth’s youngest sister interrupted them, her voice loud and edged in horror. “What do you mean you are not out?”
As one, Darcy and Miss Elizabeth turned to regard the youngest Bennets, who sat with Georgiana—Miss Lydia looking on in dismay, Miss Kitty in confusion, and Georgiana appearing a little embarrassed.
“I am not out, Lydia,” said Georgiana, gathering her composure. “In the society in which my family moves, I am too young to attend and will not come out for another two years.”
“But surely you attend events near your brother’s home,” said Miss Lydia as if she had never heard such a ridiculous thing.
Georgiana’s eyes found Darcy, but she mustered a response. “I have not done so yet, though my brother and I have discussed some informal attendance next year.”
“This is a special occasion,” argued Miss Lydia, “and you are older than I am, and I attend.”
“You attend, Lydia,” said Mr. Bennet, “but we have never said anything about you being out.”
As Darcy might have expected, Miss Lydia ignored what she did not wish to hear. “It shall be so much fun, Georgiana! It will be a shame if you do not attend.”
Though Georgiana said nothing, it was clear to Darcy that she wished to attend, though she did not wish to speak out of turn. Darcy caught Miss Elizabeth’s eye, noticing that she watched him, though she did not speak at once. When she caught a hint of Darcy’s indecision, she smiled.
“Our celebrations are not what you would find in London, Mr. Darcy. If you are inclined to allow it, I think your sister would come to no harm, and with my sisters there, we shall ensure her protection and enjoyment.”
Darcy considered this and offered a slow nod. “Georgiana, we will discuss the details later, but you may attend.”
Georgiana grinned and nodded, excited yet striving for restraint. “Thank you, William.”
The girls fell to excited chattering about the amusement, leaving Darcy to Miss Elizabeth’s company. Before he could say anything, a wry comment from Mr. Bennet interrupted them.
“That was brave or foolhardy, Darcy. You are giving my youngest daughters yet more opportunity to corrupt your sister.”
“Perhaps I expect my sister to influence your daughters more than the reverse.”
Bennet offered a delighted laugh. “If she can do that, your sister has my respect. We shall see who influences whom.”
“Do not concern yourself, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Elizabeth, pulling his attention back to her.
“Papa has learned a little prudence after the incident with Mr. Wickham. My youngest sisters are not reformed, but he has limited their exposure to the officers and begun to teach them something of decorum.”
“That is well,” replied Darcy, “but I am not concerned about my sister’s behavior. She is a good girl and has always been retiring—I doubt your sisters could pull her into serious misbehavior, even if they tried.”
Miss Elizabeth nodded, appearing contemplative.
“I believe you were about to tell me something about your twelfth night activities before we were interrupted.”
“Those in London would not consider it a Twelfth Night ball at all. We do not wear elaborate costumes or masks or follow some of the other customs that prevail in higher society. In truth, many would consider it more like one of our usual assemblies, though it is called a ball.”