Page 32

After a card party at the Partridge’s home, Miss Bingley was keen to share some information gleaned from one of the local gossips.

“Our suspicions of Mrs. Bennet’s background have been confirmed.

Louisa and I have learned that her late father was a solicitor, and her sister is married to his former clerk, who now has the business. ”

“Yes, I know,” Mr. Bingley said.

“And you didn’t think this is shocking?”

“No. Why should I? It is a respectable profession.”

“Scarcely. And there cannot have been anything respectable about her family. Have you met Mrs. Philips?”

“Yes. Briefly. She was very polite.”

“She is a dreadful woman. Even more vulgar than her sister. She tried to ingratiate herself with Louisa and me at the assembly.”

“She was probably just wanting to be friendly.”

“More likely trying to take advantage of us,” Miss Bingley said. “But we have something even worse to tell you.”

“About her brother,” Mrs. Hurst said. “He is in trade.”

“I am aware of that as well,” Mr. Bingley said. “Miss Bennet has spoken of him.”

“And that didn’t concern you?”

“It is a respectable line of trade.”

“If you believe that there is any such thing. Did she tell you where he lives?”

“Yes, in London.”

“In Cheapside,” Miss Bingley said. “Within view of his own warehouses.”

“I doubt that his warehouses can be seen from the windows of his home in Gracechurch Street, which is a respectable neighbourhood. And even if they could, I am still looking forward to meeting the man. He sounds very agreeable.”

“He sounds very much beneath you. You cannot possibly wish for such a lowly acquaintance.”

“I do. Indeed, I hope for a greater connection. I have not yet fully explained my intentions, but you should know that I mean to make Miss Bennet an offer.”

“Have you lost all sense?” Miss Bingley cried. “You barely even know her.”

“We have been a great deal together since first meeting, and I feel as though I have known her forever.”

“That is absurd romantic nonsense. And what about her family? You can do a great deal better than Miss Bennet.”

“You know that isn’t what I care about. She is the choice of my heart.”

“But her mother! Her sisters! And now these relatives! Which you already knew about. Her shockingly low connections should have been enough to dissuade you against any thoughts of offering for her.

“I am not concerned about her connections.”

“You should be. Can you not comprehend that her circumstances make a match with her out of the question?”

“I don’t think they do.”

“No one else will see things the way you do. I must point out that making such an ineligible marriage will put you at a risk of being spurned by society.”

“Not all of it, I am sure. Perhaps a few sticklers may stop sending me invitations, but I wouldn’t consider that any great loss.”

His sisters looked at him in horror.

“If necessary, I could be quite happy retiring to a simple country life,” he added.

Mrs. Hurst’s clapped a hand to her heart.

“You are not thinking straight,” Miss Bingley said to her brother. She turned to Mr. Darcy. “You understand how things are. Perhaps you can help Charles to grasp the reality of the situation.”

Mr. Darcy did understand. By the standards which he had been taught, he should be in complete agreement with Miss Bingley that this information was concerning.

At any time in the past he would probably have reminded his friend that fashionable gentlemen did not marry ladies whose uncles earned their living by engaging directly in trade.

But now he could not feel that this should be an impediment to love.

“I suppose there might be some lowness to her circumstances, but it is sufficient that Miss Bennet is a gentleman’s daughter,” he said.

Miss Bingley stared at him with astonishment. “But with such connections. Surely you cannot wish for Charles to marry beneath himself.”

“I do not wish him to go against his inclination.”

“What about going against rationality? I would expect you of all people to advise him not to be carried away by feelings.”

“It is a good thing never to be carried away,” Mr. Darcy conceded. “But I have no such advice to offer in this case.”

***

“He supposes her circumstances might be low!” Miss Bingley cried. “Who is this man? He is not the Mr. Darcy I know.”

“Love has a way of changing people.”

“He isn’t in love. Eliza Bennet isn’t even the kind of lady he likes.”

“I think she is now. Being as unconcerned about Miss Bennet’s connections as Charles is evidence of Mr. Darcy being—”

“In an exceptionally tolerant mood. Probably brought on by the mellowness of autumn. It is nothing more than that.”

“If you say so,” Mrs. Hurst said doubtfully.

“I do,” Miss Bingley said forcefully. “Mr. Darcy is no fool. He might be feeling sympathetic to our brother’s romantic notions at the moment, but I am confident of bringing him back to his senses.

He has too much value for consequence to really want Charles to make a choice which will diminish ours.

And he would certainly never do anything to endanger his own. ”

***

“I should have known my sisters would disapprove of the relatives,” Mr. Bingley said as he watched Mr. Darcy peruse the meagre selection of books in Netherfield’s library.

“They think a great deal of consequence. But that sort of thing is important to you as well. Do you really think it sufficient that Miss Bennet is a gentleman’s daughter?

Or were you waiting to give me your honest advice privately? ”

“I meant what I said. I have no advice to give. You may recall that I had already assumed a lack of connections.”

“Yes, but an uncle in trade might be more than you expected. I probably should have mentioned it myself.”

“Uncles in trade are not uncommon.” Mr. Darcy said lightly. “I know a few people who have them . And if you don’t mind my pointing it out, trade was the source of your own fortune.”

“I don’t mind. It is my sisters who like to sweep that inconvenient fact under the rug. They really have become snobbish. But I’m glad to know that you don’t think Miss Bennet ineligible.”

“Admittedly, I might have done so once. That is the way I was brought up to think, but now I am comprehending your point of view. Indeed, the only piece of advice I feel inclined to give you at the moment is to acquaint yourself with my bookseller.”

“Whatever for?” Mr. Bingley grinned. “A man fortunate enough to marry for love does not have time to spare for books. He will be wanting to spend every moment in his wife’s company.”

That notion particularly struck Mr. Darcy. Marrying for love was not what he had ever imagined for himself. Nor spending an excessive amount of time with his wife.

He had always anticipated marrying a highly suitable person.

Accomplished, well educated, and of impeccable character.

Accustomed to associating with the higher ranks of society.

Familiar with the management of a large household.

Able to conduct herself with propriety and possessing appropriate degrees of seriousness and reserve.

He had thought that love, or at least fondness, would then be the natural consequence of such compatibility. The careful choosing of a wife was the proper path to an affectionate union. Those who thought that love came first were putting the cart before the horse.

But this logical approach had not brought him to the altar.

Every year a good many ladies of that description had come into his acquaintance, but he had not seen his way to choosing one of them.

Perhaps he had always known deep down that something more was needed.

Now Mr. Bingley had opened his eyes to this truth. And Elizabeth had opened his heart.

She affected him as no other lady had ever done.

When they were together, his spirits rose.

When they were apart, he was wondering how many hours might pass before he could see her again.

When they went out walking, he wanted her at his side.

And when he entered a crowded room, he thought only of finding her.

That was how it went when they attended another party the next evening.

Mr. Darcy immediately looked about for his favourite person in the world.

As their eyes met, he forgot that there was any other company in the room.

He saw only Elizabeth, smiling in that way he adored.

In fact, he adored everything about her.

Was this love?

They had only known each other a week. A few mornings had been spent walking, and a few evenings at the same parties. It all seemed absurd, yet it felt so perfectly right. Could love really be this simple?

What about marriage? Was this unusual lady the one to complete his life?

His relatives would not like it. Her connections were not what they would desire, and she was far from the ideal they had in mind for him.

It was not so long ago that his own ideas had been in unison with theirs.

But now they had gone off on an unexpected tangent.

Was he being impetuous? He should step back, consider things carefully, take time to properly know his feelings.

But Mr. Darcy stepped forward, into that aura of brightness which surrounded Elizabeth.