Page 44 of Count the Cost (The Secrets of Elizabeth Bennet #2)

D arcy was back at his desk the next morning, still with a headache from the previous evening and having spent much of the night thinking of Miss Bennet and their meeting at the theatre.

She had entranced him, her eyes dancing with pleasure in the company of her relations.

Her easy, unaffected manner was in stark contrast to her rigid behaviour at the house party, and he found he liked this Miss Bennet very much.

It was a pity she hadn’t enjoyed that taste of society very much; yet if she married well, she might have to be involved in much of it.

Then he huffed a laugh. He hated society and all its pretensions, so why should she not dislike it?

Richard had liked her, too, and Darcy grumbled to himself at the thought he might choose to pursue her.

No, surely not. Lord Matlock would certainly pursue an heiress for Richard, but one who could also bring political family ties, too.

He tried to shake her from his thoughts, and looked at the next letter awaiting his attention. Bingley!

He opened it hastily. Bingley should still be at Netherfield, and might have news of the Bennet family.

It was nothing to do with Darcy, of course, but if there was anything that affected Miss Bennet — Miss Elizabeth Bennet, then it would be of interest. He squinted at the blots — would Bingley never take more care with his correspondence?

Netherfield Park

10 November

Darcy,

I hope all is well with you and your family, and that you are finding life satisfyingly peaceful.

Thank you for your letter of the 6 th , and I have the repairs in hand with my steward along the lines you suggested.

But enough of business! I have news for you.

Although I wished to wait until I could take your advice; I had to take precipitate action due to a certain difficulty.

But all has turned out as I had hoped, and I am overjoyed to announce that I am betrothed to the fairest lady in the land, Miss Jane Bennet.

Darcy stared at the letter in shock. What could have possibly happened that the betrothal was so sudden?

Not that it was bad in itself; the two suited each other very well.

But had there been a compromise, or worse?

He could not imagine it of either of them .

His lips tightened. That mother of hers was desperate enough, perhaps.

He shook his head again and returned to the letter.

You know, of course, that the Bennets have only daughters and Longbourn is entailed away to a distant cousin. Well, that cousin has now appeared, and seems intent on marrying one of the Bennet daughters, even not knowing them at all!

Darcy, he is a dreadful fellow. Mr. Collins is a servile little man, and has recently gained the patronage of your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Though it is not amusing at all, I am laughing at the thought of you reading this, and you can probably guess that the new rector of Hunsford is precisely what you would think him to be.

As I said, I was waiting to ask you if it was the right thing to do, but Mrs. Bennet was obviously pushing Miss Bennet to accept Collins’ attentions, and I could not bear it.

So I have made her an offer, thinking that I must protect her from him, and I am the happiest man alive!

My dear Jane is also happy, although I fear Caroline and Louisa are less so.

But I cannot be concerned with that at the moment.

I do hope you will stand up with me on the best day of my life — my wedding.

But that is enough of my happiness. I have more serious news.

Forgive me if I am imputing feelings to you that are in error, but I saw how much attention you gave Miss Elizabeth in the short time you were here, and I understand Mrs. Bennet is writing to demand that she return to Longbourn to marry Mr. Collins.

Of course, she does not like her second daughter and I have heard how she disparages her, even in her absence, so she does not care whether Miss Elizabeth will be happy or not.

I admit I am concerned for her, having met her, although I know, of course, that I did not speak to her as much as you did.

I cannot believe she would be happy with such a dreadful man.

Not only is he absurd, but he is foolish, pompous and pretentious; and I have determined in him a patronising dismissal of females, regardless of whether they are gentry or servants. It will not do, Darcy, it will not!

Of course, if one were not involved with the family, it would be very interesting to see them meet.

I believe she will bring him down in no time at all, but he will not endure such in silence, and if Mrs. Bennet does succeed in forcing a marriage, Miss Elizabeth would then suffer long under his injured pride and arrogance.

Still, I suppose there is not much to be done. I can only hope that Mr. Bennet will not give his consent. Miss Elizabeth is not yet one and twenty, of course. My dear Jane is anxious for her as well.

Yours, etc

Bingley

Darcy sat, staring at the letter. What did Bingley expect him to do? Had Darcy followed his instincts, he would have read only half the letter before sending for his horse and riding to Hertfordshire.

But he was a Darcy, and Darcys did not act on impulse. Miss Elizabeth was in London. He had seen her at the theatre last night, and she had seemed well and cheerful. She could not yet have even received a demand to return, or the knowledge of it would have shown in her manner.

Ought he perhaps to seek her out at Gardiner’s and say that Bingley had written to him? But, if her mother demanded she return to Hertfordshire, she must go, unless it was countermanded by her father.

No, he needed to stay in town; he had a great deal of work that had piled up during the house party, after all, and it was important that he catch up with his work. He must visit Georgiana, too. He must see more of her, and they must make plans for their journey to Pemberley for Christmas.

But, as he pulled the next letter from the top of the pile awaiting attention, he was dispiritedly aware that he was deceiving himself. He was concerned about Miss Elizabeth.

Would she marry her cousin, if he was as ridiculous as Bingley had described him? Was she dutiful enough to obey her parents? Surely she would not, she was fiercely independent, and she did not want to marry. But what if he was wrong? He would lose her, and the thought tormented him deeply.

He had spent the last week persuading himself that she was not suitable as a Darcy bride, but just the thought of her given to another man had discombobulated him completely.

He sighed and rose to his feet to ring the bell. Coffee. He needed coffee, and time to think.