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D arcy was silent as they rode back to Netherfield, although Bingley was voluble enough not to notice. Whatever had possessed him to request the supper dance with Miss Elizabeth? In the presence of her family, too?

He shivered; the mother would take it as proof of his interest, and so might Miss Elizabeth. He wondered why she hadn’t looked particularly pleased.

He hoped Bingley wouldn’t ask his aunt to arrange that the supper dance be a waltz.

No, surely the lady was old enough to disapprove of such a scandalous thing.

He smiled slowly. The ball might not be too arduous; there would be no Miss Bingley to cling breathily to his arm.

She was more difficult to brush off than a limpet.

Mrs. Cuthbert, Bingley’s aunt, was a restful person — especially compared to Miss Bingley, and she allowed there to be some periods of silence while they sat with their coffee, waiting for lunch to be called.

Darcy was able to think of the call to Longbourn. He was still rather disturbed at his rash action in requesting the supper dance with Miss Elizabeth, but could see no way now of mitigating whatever thoughts he had put into her mind, or that of her mother.

He was even more disturbed at his thoughts of the actual dance.

He was anticipating it keenly. Very keenly.

He was looking forward to it even though his mind was telling him that she was far beneath him, and of much too humble a birth to be worthy of consideration.

Her connections were so inferior as to blight her forever marrying into the first circles.

It was unfortunate; as he got to know her better, she attracted his attention more and more.

After lunch, a footman brought in the post while he and Bingley sat in the library.

Darcy shuffled through the thin sheaf of letters, most of which had been sent on from Darcy House. But the last envelope gave him pause. Why was Lady Catherine writing to him here, at Netherfield?

He’d written to her last week; the usual duty letter he wrote each month. Of course, he’d used the Netherfield headed notepaper, but he had explained why he was here and that he would be returning to Darcy House soon enough.

He frowned to himself. He hadn’t said anything untoward that he could recall. He glanced over at Bingley with an enquiring look.

“Of course,” his friend said genially. “I know you take your correspondence seriously. In fact, I had better read mine.”

Darcy broke the ornate Rosings seal and unfolded the sheets.

Darcy

How strange that you should be in Hertfordshire — and not just anywhere in that county, but near Meryton!

I am writing in all haste while you are there, so that you may assist in my plan.

Darcy’s eyebrows rose. What was his aunt trying to involve him in now?

Since you last visited Rosings, I have granted the Hunsford living to a clergyman by the name of Collins, on the plea of the bishop. He was concerned that Collins ought to be under the patronage of a person who is closely involved with the parish to regulate his behaviours.

However, I have determined that the man is a fool.

Not only that, he has little control of his baser impulses, so I have determined that the best thing for him would be a wife.

This wife must be a strong and determined woman.

Such a wife would be able to control Collins, who would be easily cowed, once he has realised her determination.

It will be in the best interests of many people to ensure this, because he is the heir presumptive of Longbourn estate, which you have probably heard about, as Netherfield is only a few miles from it, and any man such as Collins is now will send the estate and tenants to rack and ruin.

I have been making discreet enquiries, and I understand Bennet, the current master of Longbourn, has suffered the birth of five daughters, all unmarried, and no sons.

However, I have persuaded Collins that it would serve him well to gain the hand of one of his cousins in marriage, and I believe it would ease the plight of the ladies once they are, inevitably, without their father.

It appears, from my enquiries, that the second eldest daughter, a Miss Elizabeth Bennet, is of a strong character, and well able to determine the behaviour she ought to expect of a husband, including preventing any inclination of a wandering gaze.

I understand she is a prettyish sort of woman, and would be acceptable in the parish.

While you are in the neighbourhood, it might be helpful if you were able to encourage Collins to pay attention to this Miss Elizabeth Bennet and ensure that he is under no illusions as to where I expect his attentions to be.

Your affectionate aunt

Catherine

Darcy stared at the letter, feeling more than a little ill. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, married to Collins. And under the fierce gaze and loud complaints of Lady Catherine.

He must inform Bennet of the character of his heir. He crossed to the writing desk and penned a hasty note, asking to call upon him at his earliest convenience, and rang for a footman.

“Have this taken at once to Mr. Bennet at Longbourn and wait for the reply.”

When the footman had closed the door behind him, Darcy smiled tightly at Bingley’s curious expression and handed him the letter from Rosings.

“I cannot allow Bennet to remain in ignorance of Collins’ proclivities, Bingley. I have asked to meet him at his convenience.”

Bingley’s eyebrows went up. “He will ask you what your intentions are towards Miss Elizabeth, especially if he knows about the supper dance.”

Darcy dropped into his chair, rubbing his hand with his face.

“I ought not to have asked her. It was a thoughtless thing to do.” He looked levelly at his friend.

“You know I have no intention of paying my addresses to her. I have my position in society to keep. And Georgiana will soon have her first season. I must marry within the first circles.” He shrugged.

“But Miss Elizabeth is a lively conversationalist, and I hope she will enjoy sitting with you and Miss Bennet over supper.”

He hoped Bennet would accept his reasoning as easily as Bingley seemed to.

Less than an hour later, a knock on the door heralded the footman, who extended a note to him on the silver letter tray. Darcy nodded his thanks and broke the seal.

Mr. Darcy

Thank you for your note. I am at leisure any time this afternoon to receive your call.

Bennet

Brief and to the point. Darcy rose to his feet. “I will go to Longbourn now, Bingley. I will not be long.” He folded Lady Catherine’s letter and tucked it into his pocket. He would get Bennet to read it first; it would explain the position quite adequately.

As he crossed the hall, he could see the ballroom door was open and Mrs. Cuthbert busily issuing instructions to Mrs. Nicholls. He grimaced; Bingley was asking a lot of his aunt to arrange a ball alone and in such a short time. He must suggest something to his friend.