Chapter 14
Darcy stood at the window staring out at the formal lawn and gardens of Netherfield.
The estate had been neglected for two years before Bingley took the lease, and thus the gardens were no doubt less than impressive at the best of the times; now, with dingy clouds scudding across the skies, with bare rose stalks and dilapidated fencing, with crushed gray grass, it was dreary indeed.
Nonetheless, he felt a strong, restless urge to take a walk, regardless of the weather and uninspiring scenery.
He was by nature an active man, and even in late autumn and winter, made a point of going outside every day.
Now, though, with his arm throbbing, with his wound still knitting together, he should not leave the cozy, safe rooms of Netherfield.
He sighed and turned toward Georgiana, who was working on a piece of needlepoint with Mrs. Annesley at her side.
At least he had Georgiana’s company, and he was grateful for that.
There was a murmur of voices from the front vestibule, and a long moment later the door opened and Bingley stepped through with Jane Bennet at his side.
Darcy stared at her with interest. He had always thought the blonde Miss Bennet a remarkably handsome woman, but now, with her celestial eyes fixed on his friend, with her face glowing with adoration, she seemed more angel than woman in her perfection.
Miss Bennet was, he realized with a start, genuinely in love with his friend.
There could be no mistaking her tender smile toward Bingley.
He had been a fool to believe that he knew her heart.
His eyes shifted now to Mr. Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, who were walking behind the engaged couple, and Darcy found his heart beating faster as his lips curled up in pleasure.
Elizabeth was looking very pretty today, with her dark hair twisted in a bun, a few curls escaping to frame her heart shaped face.
She looked better rested, and he hoped that she was sleeping well.
Bingley caught his eye and Darcy, with a start, stepped forward. “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Mr. Bennet, good morning.”
“Good morning,” they chorused in return.
“May I please introduce my sister, Miss Darcy, along with her companion, Mrs. Annesley? Georgiana, Mrs. Annesley, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and Mr. Bennet.”
The ladies curtseyed and Mr. Bennet bowed, and then Bingley said, “Mr. Bennet and I have some business in my study. Perhaps when we are finished with our discussion, we can enjoy tea together?”
“Of course,” Darcy agreed and watched as the newly engaged couple exchanged amorous looks before Bingley departed with a chuckling Mr. Bennet in tow.
Darcy had been prey to many unusual emotions in these last days and was startled to experience an entirely new feeling of envy.
Would it not be marvelous to adore a woman like Bingley adored Miss Bennet?
Would it not be wonderful to seek a wife based on mutual respect, love and compatibility instead of focusing on wealth and connections?
Alas, he was Darcy of Pemberley, with his uncle an earl, with his father descended from a respectable, honored, and ancient, though untitled line. He owed it to his family to marry a woman of matching stature in the eyes of society.
“I understand that you play the pianoforte very well, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said from her seat next to Georgiana. While Darcy had been cogitating, the Bennet ladies had seated themselves near Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley, and the second Bennet daughter was now smiling at Darcy’s young sister.
“Oh, as to that,” Georgiana murmured breathlessly, her face pink with discomfort, “I do enjoy music very much but I do not claim to be an excellent player.”
“I believe that enjoying music is the most important thing,” Elizabeth said. “I am not as greatly skilled a player as I might be because I do not practice enough, but I do take pleasure in playing. Do you enjoy classical music more, or ballads?”
“I like Mozart,” Georgiana returned, “along with Beethoven, though many of the pieces are very difficult.”
“They are! I usually play simpler songs like those found in Joseph Ritson’s Northern Garlands, along with some of the easier Scottish and Irish airs. I admire those who are able to manage the more difficult classical concertos!”
“Our friends and sisters are most appreciative that you play pieces suitable for dancing, Lizzy,” Jane pointed out affectionately.
“You must know, Miss Darcy, that here in Hertfordshire we do not always have the pleasure of retaining professional musicians, and thus Elizabeth and our next younger sister, Mary, often play at private parties.”
“Oh!” Georgiana cried out. “Oh, you are very brave, Miss Elizabeth! I could never play in front of strangers!”
“I will accept your accolades, Miss Darcy, with pleasure,” Elizabeth returned with a sly smirk. “Far better brave than to be considered overly bold in forcing my efforts upon my neighbors. It does help that I have lived here all my life, and most of my fellow guests at parties know me well.”
“I found your playing and singing at Sir William Lucas’s house to be most pleasing,” Darcy declared.
Elizabeth lifted her face, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “How very kind of you, Mr. Darcy. I suppose you have heard some of the truly brilliant singers, like Grassini and Mrs. Billington, and thus your generous words mean a great deal.”
“I had the privilege of hearing both of those vocalists perform in London,” Darcy agreed, “but while their technical expertise was without question, there was a certain artificiality to some of their singing. But I would not claim to be an expert, and prefer simpler performances to those full of musical embellishment.”
“I believe that to be quite a common problem,” Georgiana said eagerly. “Mr. Wolfe, my music master in London, is always reminding me to be careful not to dramatize my performances with extra notes and movements.”
“The goal,” Elizabeth suggested, “ought to be to please one’s audience and to enjoy oneself, not to show off one’s accomplishments.”
“Yes, precisely! I find it difficult at times because many of my fellow musicians do add complexity to show off their skills…”
The conversation continued apace, and Darcy, with astonishment, watched his sister grow animated in her discussion of music.
It was truly remarkable; Georgiana had always been shy, and since Ramsgate, positively fearful of new acquaintances.
It was an indicator of the kindly nature of their guests that Georgiana obviously felt comfortable with them.
The key, Darcy concluded, was that Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were neither flattering Georgiana nor trying to show her up. The two ladies did not boast of their own accomplishments, nor did they show any signs of trying to win the favor of the wealthy Miss Darcy for societal reasons.
His musings were interrupted when the door to the drawing room opened, and Bingley nearly pranced into the room, his gaze seeking, and finding, Miss Bennet.
As for the lady, as soon as she observed her fiancé, she leaped to her feet and moved forward, an enchanting smile on her face, her eyes glowing with delight.
Darcy swallowed convulsively at the sight and he found his eyes shifting to Miss Elizabeth who was considering her elder sister with pleasure. Seconds later, as if she felt his stare, she turned and their eyes met.
The master of Pemberley felt his face flush a little as his heart beat faster, and he observed the young lady’s skin grow rosier as well.
He swallowed hard, trying to wrestle his rebellious emotions under control by reminding himself of the sad truth; Miss Elizabeth was not fashionable, well-connected, or wealthy, and thus was not a worthy wife for a Darcy.
It was most unfortunate, because he had never felt like this toward a woman, but he owed it to Georgiana to marry a woman who could help launch his sister into society.
Bingley spoke, and Elizabeth turned away from Darcy, her color still heightened.
“My dear Jane, would you be so kind as to pour tea for us?” Bingley asked as two maids brought the tea service into the room.
Miss Bennet did so, requesting the preferences of Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley but handing over Darcy’s cup prepared just the way he liked it.
He was astonished as Miss Bennet had only had one or two opportunities to observe his partiality for tea without milk or sugar.
Miss Bennet, soon to be Mrs. Bingley, would be a most charming hostess for Bingley; she was agreeable and attentive to the needs and wants of those around her.
Conversation flourished anew as Bingley, Mr. Bennet, and the ladies chatted about this and that.
Darcy was content to sit back, drink his tea, and listen to the conversations around him, his earlier restlessness having given way to fatigue.
He was usually the most energetic of men, but he seemed drained of vitality, no doubt due to his injured arm.
To his gratitude and pleasure, Miss Elizabeth continued to draw out Georgiana with considerable skill.
The two women spoke of music, of London, and then Pemberley, and Georgiana, her face animated, described the grounds of their beloved estate with enthusiastic detail.
Bingley was talking happily with his fiancée, but both he and Miss Bennet were courteously including Mrs. Annesley in their discussion. Darcy’s heart warmed at the sight; it was all too common that a paid companion was excluded by those around her.
As for Mr. Bennet, he seemed, like Darcy, to be content to sit and let those around him carry the conversation, though the master of Longbourn seemed more cheerful than usual.
He had no doubt found that the marriage settlements were more than generous to the Bennet family.
Bingley was an openhanded man, and very much in love.
Darcy often found social visits tedious but he was enjoying this one, even if he was not himself a participant of the conversation.
He was even aware of a quiver of disappointment when Mr. Bennet stood up and said, “Jane, Lizzy, I fear we must leave for home, as your mother is no doubt eager to discuss wedding plans further.”
Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth rose immediately and began making their farewells when there was a sudden flurry of activity in the front vestibule.
Darcy turned toward the closed door of the drawing room and frowned as the loudest of the voices penetrated into the room.
He found himself gasping in dismay and turned toward Georgiana, who looked equally horrified.
The door to the drawing room was flung open and the butler entered, followed by a woman of some fifty years wearing an expensive, though unbecoming, puce traveling dress.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” the butler announced.