Chapter Thirty
Oh, Mr. Darcy!” Miss Bingley’s hand was at her throat. “Why, I do not think we were expecting you today, but you are very, very welcome!”
“Thank you, Miss Bingley,” Mr. Darcy replied. “I should have sent word, of course, but my departure was the result of a sudden decision. And, if I am honest, I felt that my friendship with your brother was of sufficient duration to forgive such an affront to courtesy.”
“Oh! Of course! Your friendship with all of us, not only Charles, certainly permits – or even encourages – you to join us whenever you wish!”
“You are very kind, Miss Bingley,” Mr. Darcy said. He was careful not to infuse his voice with too much gratitude, too much kindness, too much…well, anything, lest Miss Bingley assume more than he intended.
“Darcy!!” Mr. Bingley strode into the room and clapped Mr. Darcy on the back. “I am everything glad to see you! You can advise me on wooing the young woman who may very well become my bride!!”
“Bride? Whatever can you mean, Bingley?”
“Come, Darcy, I think we all know what a bride is!” Mr. Bingley smiled.
Mr. Darcy felt that he had missed a step somewhere along the way. “I had no idea…well, who is she, Bingley?”
“Her name is Miss Bennet, and she lives at a nearby estate.”
“Miss Bennet?” Mr. Darcy’s voice rose in disbelief. “From Longbourn?”
“You know her? How is that possible?”
“Why, I met her in London! In point of fact, I escorted her home just this morning! How could you possibly have met her?” Mr. Darcy’s voice rose in protest.
“But she has been here in Hertfordshire since I arrived here!” Mr. Bingley’s voice rose as well.
It was Miss Bingley who understood the situation.
“Lord! Have the two of you never been in a drawing room? Clearly, Charles’ Miss Bennet is Elizabeth Bennet, who we know to be the second daughter.
She was called Miss Bennet only because her elder sister was absent.
Mr. Darcy must have met the elder Miss Bennet in London. ”
The shoulders of both men relaxed, and each issued an embarrassed chuckle.
“So my Miss Bennet will now be called Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Bingley said.
Mr. Darcy raised a skeptical brow. “Is she your Miss Bennet already? Fast work, indeed. You have not been here more than six weeks, I believe. But if Miss…Elizabeth, is it? If she is as beautiful as her elder sister, I understand your haste.”
Mr. Bingley hesitated. Seeing Mr. Darcy’s brows rise at his hesitation, he said, “She is not beautiful in the traditional sense, Darcy. But she is the perfect young lady to be the mistress of an estate. She is trained in estate management, and has already come to Netherfield to instruct my sisters in their duties.”
Mr. Darcy raised an eyebrow.
“And she is pretty, yes!” Mr. Bingley rushed on. “Not blonde, you understand, nor blue-eyed, but nonetheless quite pretty. And you will like her, Darcy, for she is well-read and studies both Greek and Latin!”
Miss Bingley made a noise that might have been a scoff. Or a laugh. Or a snort.
“My sisters do not like her, of course,” Mr. Bingley went on. “Louisa thinks that Miss Elizabeth is merely out to find herself a rich husband.”
“I see,” Mr. Darcy replied. And he thought that he did, indeed, see.
His quick eye had seen the condition of Longbourn, and he was certain that the estate had fallen on hard times.
No doubt any daughter of that family would be encouraged to ensnare their wealthy neighbour as soon as possible. “I look forward to meeting her.”
“Oh! You certainly shall, for I visit almost every day. I do not doubt that she expects me today, but I shall instead spend the day with you, my friend, as I have a good many questions for you. You know, crops, tenants, the like.”
Bingley’s attachment must not be particularly strong, Mr. Darcy, reflected, if he was willing to forgo a visit to the young lady simply to ask questions about the estate.
Miss Bingley had fastened on a detail that her brother had entirely overlooked. “What mean you, Mr. Darcy, that you escorted this Miss Bennet to her home?”
“Why, just that.” Too late, Mr. Darcy realised that he had said more than he should have.
“You must have met her before, then.”
“Yes; we met at a party at the home of Lord and Lady Stanford.”
“I had no idea that the Bennets had such connections…?” While ostensibly a statement, this was unquestionably a question.
Mr. Darcy knew that he was not required to answer this, so he merely shrugged.
“And then?” Miss Bingley pressed on.
“She mentioned that she was from Meryton, and I said that a friend of mine had just taken up residency there.”
There was a pause before Miss Bingley said, again, “And then?”
Mr. Darcy hesitated; much to his relief, Mr. Bingley leaped to his rescue. “Really, Caroline, Darcy need not explain himself to you!”
Mr. Darcy turned to his friend, gratefully. “Bingley, allow me to wash off the road dust, and then I am happy to answer any and all of your estate questions.”