Chapter 1 #2
Mr Bennet chuckled and said, “Oh, dear, you are a lively one, young man. I wonder if it could be possible that you might become worthy of my Lizzy? Not now, of course, but in a year or two?”
Darcy felt chilled at the thought of having to wait until he was seven and twenty to marry Elizabeth.
But he carefully did not let his anxiety show.
Instead, he grinned widely, portraying confidence as well as he could, and he said, “I am never going to be fully worthy of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, sir, but I will show you in short order that I am the worthiest possible candidate to serve her all of her days. I look forward to courting your good opinion as well as your daughter’s. ”
He bowed slightly and bid Elizabeth’s father a seemingly respectful goodbye—although he truly had no respect for the man—and he left the room, closing the door behind him quietly.
When he first entered the drawing room, he saw that Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, and Georgiana were speaking together in low voices as they sat quite close to one another.
Elizabeth looked up with one of her most brilliant smiles, and she asked for permission from her mother to show the gardens to the Darcys.
Mrs Bennet immediately agreed, sending Miss Bennet and Miss Mary as well, and before long they found themselves outside, strolling in the dappled sunlight under rows of fruit trees.
Miss Bennet, Miss Mary, and Georgiana lagged behind the courting couple.
“I can see by your face that it did not go well,” Elizabeth said quietly.
“I know my father and you well enough to know that he was at fault, and you know that both my uncle and I rather expected he would be unreasonable. I hope you will tell me what he said.”
“He said he highly doubted my intentions are honourable, because my wealth and status in society are higher than yours. When I refuted his assumption, he came back at me with more. But I sensed he was merely attempting to anger me, so I thanked him for the debate and said I looked forward to courting both his and your good opinions.”
“A debate? That was a master stroke!” Elizabeth said. “I am very impressed, sir. I thought that he would win by virtue of angering you, which must have been his goal, as you thought; but Round 1 must go to you.”
“It assuredly does,” Darcy agreed with a nod.
He did not wish to tell her what her father had said of her, but Elizabeth said, “I imagine that my father also said that I like you only for your rumoured ten thousand a year—and do not worry, sir, I know better than to believe what is clearly a highly inflated rumour.”
Darcy asked, “So you would still have me if my income was closer to seven thousand a year?”
“I would. I know you are teasing; you know, of course, that I would wish to wed you even if you were a second son who only earned seven hundred a year.”
“Miss Elizabeth, I truly do not exaggerate when I say that my income is considerably more than seven hundred a year.”
Elizabeth looked at him carefully. She said, “You seem to be dodging addressing my assumption.”
“Your assumption?”
“I will be direct. Mr Darcy, did my father claim that I only cared for you because of your wealth?”
Darcy sighed. “Yes,” he admitted.
“And you chose not to tell that part of the tale because….?”
“I assumed that telling such would hurt your feelings.”
“He knows me well enough to know that I am not mercenary, but I imagine that he wished to see what you would do, or say.”
“Well, I hope you can help me plan a campaign of courtship designed to turn your father into a supporter.”
“I will, although at the moment I am so dazzled by your brilliance, I am not certain I can cogitate properly on the topic.”
While she said this, Elizabeth reached out one hand and cupped one of his cheeks. Darcy was so electrified by the unexpected and tender touch, he blushed deeply. She snatched her hand back and blushed as well.
“You walked every dry morning, in London,” Darcy whispered to the love of his life. “Will you do the same here?”
“I always have. And…it being Longbourn land, not the wilds of London, I walk without a footman.”
Darcy paused, feeling a flutter of unease.
Even in the country, there were dangers for a maiden alone.
His idea of joining her morning walks with a servant in attendance, for propriety, seemed to veer into a more questionable suggestion of a truly private assignation.
But if he remained away for propriety’s sake, some danger could befall her… .
“Can I meet you somewhere?” he asked.
Elizabeth swiftly led Darcy to the base of a trail and said, “This is where I often start on my way up to the top of that hill, Oakham Mount. We could meet here a quarter hour after sunrise.”
He nodded, his heart pounding at the illicit feel of the arrangement.
“Come,” Elizabeth said. “Let us find our sisters.” They soon met up with the three ladies and returned to the house, and it was not long before the carriage arrived to take the Darcys to Netherfield Park, where they were expected for dinner.
Bingley was eager for their company and chattered away, as he was wont to do.
He described his meetings with the Netherfield steward and housekeeper, asking Darcy for advice on various estate matters, and then he told of calls he had enjoyed from the heads of two neighbouring estates.
“Sir William Lucas is as friendly a fellow as you will ever meet,” he said, “and he has two daughters, the younger one about Georgiana’s age.
You should both go with me when I return the call, so Georgiana can meet Miss Maria. ”
Darcy checked with Georgiana, and she shrugged but smiled a little.
He said, “That will likely work well for us, as long as we are not busy with the Bennet family. You should definitely come with us to the Bennets’ home when we call tomorrow, so I can introduce you.
I believe that Mr Bennet is unlikely to stir himself to come to you, but there are several reasons to meet your nearest neighbours. ”
Naturally, Bingley agreed to the plan. He was never reluctant to meet new people.
That night, as he readied himself for bed, Darcy thought about how careful he had been while speaking to Mr Bennet and even to Elizabeth, concerning his fortune.
He had specified that Elizabeth had other wealthy suitors, and—separately—that she had suitors with connexions greater than his.
He had deliberately not made the claim that she had had suitors with wealth greater than his.
In his careful statements, Darcy continued a practice that several generations of Darcys had followed: keeping the particulars of the Darcy fortune very private.
Darcy had for years now allowed people to endlessly repeat vast undervaluations of his holdings and funds, and he never murmured a single syllable of demurral or correction.
From his dealings with other gentlemen, especially when they discussed investments, Darcy suspected that he was richer, even, than most dukes and marquesses.
He almost certainly had a greater fortune than almost all earls, viscounts, and barons.
He had long known that Elizabeth did not often think about material wealth.
He now realised that she was entirely in the dark about his fortune, if she “knew” that an income of ten thousand a year was a vast inflation of reality.
In truth, he made more than fifty thousand a year.
He did not spend as much as many wealthy men did on flamboyant carriages, gaudy furnishings, and colourful fashions, and he did not practice the sometimes-ruinous vices common to men of his station.
Because of his restrained taste and habits, there was no gossip wondering if, perhaps, his income was higher than rumoured.
If anyone knew how much he donated to charities, or how much he used to support painters and musicians, fund inventors, and endow scientific investigations, people would certainly have wondered more about his fortune.
But he decided that he needed to speak with Elizabeth about all of it: the estates, the income, the tenants, the investments, the people he supported. She would have to know all of it if she were to be the partner he wished her to be.