A s he folded and sealed his letter, Fitzwilliam Darcy imagined his cousin’s look of utter disbelief upon receiving a personal invitation to a ball from him, and not just the host of the ball, and chuckled.
Darcy was not known for his love of dancing or large social gatherings.
So to be asked to bring Georgiana and come to a ball by him would be something Richard would never, ever, expect.
Of course, the mention of a lady – a future Mrs. Darcy – whom he wished for the colonel to meet would add another layer of incredulity to torment his cousin.
Indeed, the combination might actually render the fellow speechless, which was not an easy feat to accomplish.
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was rarely without something to say.
Darcy nearly wished he could be in the room to view his missive’s reception.
He glanced at the clock on the mantel in the library, grabbed his hat and walking stick from where they lay on the carpet next to him at the writing desk, and rose from his place.
“Are you about ready?” Charles Bingley called from the door. “Our ladies will be down soon.” He fiddled with a button on his coat. The man was perfectly incapable of standing still for even a moment. He was a lively sort of fellow, which was precisely the opposite of how Darcy was.
Darcy liked to do things slowly and with well-thought-out purpose. Bingley tended to seize the moment and then attempt to batter it into whatever shape he needed it to be. They were odd friends. One reserved. The other exuberant. But they normally worked well together.
However, there had been a few moments recently during which it had seemed their differences might tear their friendship apart.
Thankfully, it had been overcome by an adjustment in Darcy’s way of thinking.
It was a modification which had been sorely needed, and which had led to both his willingly writing the personal invitation to Richard, which he currently held in his hand, and his being anxious to be at the foot of Netherfield’s grand staircase to greet Miss Elizabeth when she descended with her sister.
To think that he had only days ago disapproved of her! The change in how he viewed things was something of a miracle – one worked, in a most clumsy fashion, by his exuberant friend.
He motioned to a footman who was standing near the door. “This needs to be sent to Colonel Fitzwilliam straightaway.”
“Yes, sir.”
The footman took the envelope and left the room via the servant’s entrance at almost exactly the same moment that Darcy, finally, made his way into the corridor to stand with Bingley and watch the stairs for the appearance of Miss Bennet and her sister, Elizabeth.
“You were right.” Darcy straightened his sleeves and glanced at Bingley, who seemed to be somewhere other than at Netherfield. He bumped him with his shoulder. “Are you not going to ask me about what you were correct?”
“I must apologize. I was lost in my thoughts about how a return to health in this circumstance is bittersweet; however, now that you have my full attention, you may praise my genius as it deserves.”
Darcy chuckled. Genius indeed! A stroke of good fortune was more what it was. “I will not go so far as to call it genius,” he said, “though I will admit it is perhaps the most astute you have ever been.” He pulled at the front of is jacket and then checked his watch.
“Miss Elizabeth is precisely the best sort of accomplished lady. I grant that I have not witnessed all the particulars of her accomplishments, for we have not called on any tenants nor have we had the opportunity to go over an account book or arrange furniture and pick paint.
“But be that as it may, I have observed and been quite delighted with her keen mind and caring heart.
She has forgiven me for my atrocious behaviour; she fairly dotes on Miss Bennet; and our discussions about many things have been lively and proven that on many items of great importance, we are agreed.
“For all those reasons, I intend to speak to her father to make my position as a hopeful match for his daughter known.” Or he would if Elizabeth said she was agreeable to him doing so.
He looked behind them, and then up the stairs. Waiting to begin a task once a plan had been decided upon was excessively challenging. At present, he could sympathize with Bingley’s fidgety ways.
“You should also know that I am determined to be successful.” He had even said as much to his cousin in his letter.
“And I will do whatever you may need me to do to ensure your success with Miss Bennet. She is as you proclaimed her last night, quite lovely and perfectly designed to be Mrs. Bingley. Add to that, my happiness would not be complete without yours being just as happy.”
“Does this mean, then, that you understand why I had to conspire with Hurst regarding you and Miss Elizabeth?” Bingley asked.
Darcy nodded. “I think I do.” He said nothing else, for who could continue a discussion about Bingley’s skills as a matchmaker when the heavenly creature who had been unceremoniously plopped into his path by his not-quite-a-genius friend was descending the stairs and smiling just for him.
The whole of Netherfield could catch fire around him, and still, Darcy was not sure that his mind would register anything but the twinkle in Elizabeth’s eyes as they danced with some bit of humour she and her sister had just shared.
My! Her cleverness was as honed as Richard’s was.
It was going to be quite the treat to watch his Elizabeth exchange witticisms with the colonel.
“Are you certain you feel well enough to endure the carriage ride home?” Bingley said to Miss Bennet as their ladies gained the landing at the foot of the grand staircase.
Miss Bennet had been quite severely ill for a few days, but one would not know it to look at her now – if one were inclined to scrutinize her appearance today, which Darcy was not inclined to do.
He would much rather focus his attention on her younger sister.
Darcy extended his hand to Elizabeth, and she took it. Hopefully, she would soon take it and keep it for always.
“I am quite sure that no ill will befall me from the excursion.” Miss Bennet replied.
“But perhaps we should take one more walk around the garden to ensure that you are well, and tomorrow you can return home.”
Darcy smiled at Bingley’s suggestion. The chap was besotted – nearly as much as he was – and therefore, Darcy could not fault the man for his attempt to keep the object of his affection under his roof.
“And tomorrow, you will say the same thing, just as you have for the past two days.” Miss Bennet placed her hand in Bingley’s.
“If it helps you bear our parting, I shall miss being here,” she added.
“You have been a most gracious host. I dare say that I have never rested quite so well, while sick, as I did here.”
“That,” Miss Elizabeth inserted, “is because Mama was not here to worry over you at every cough.”
“And I dare say that you had something to do with it,” Darcy whispered to Elizabeth as Jane laughed at her sister’s comment. He knew that she had been quite worried about her sister – likely at every cough – but she did not flutter and fuss. It was not her nature.
Elizabeth arched her left eyebrow as her lips tipped into a mischievous smirk. “Perhaps, but I think it was Mama’s absence and Mr. Bingley’s presence that was the true balm.”
“It would be quite the thing if we could always be in company such as we are now,” Bingley said.
Miss Bennet’s cheeks grew rosy. “I would like that very much.”
“Good for her,” Elizabeth whispered just loudly enough that Darcy could hear it.
Only yesterday, they had discussed how Miss Bennet tended to be reserved to a fault when it came to stating what she wanted.
Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand and simply smiled and nodded his agreement when she turned her eyes towards him. He simply could not wait to have his sister meet her, which was why he had requested that the colonel bring Georgiana with him.
A quarter of an hour later, after enduring a discussion about the fellow who was taking Darcy’s place in the affections of Miss Bingley, and bearing the barbs that were cast at him and Elizabeth for their part in Miss Bingley’s affections requiring a new gentleman upon which to fall, Darcy was finally ensconced in Bingley’s carriage, sitting most properly, if also annoyingly, next to his friend while their ladies sat across from them.
“I shall be glad when Caroline is married,” Bingley muttered with a shake of his head.
“I think we all feel that way about our sisters at times.” Miss Bennet was, as ever, the voice of calm reason.
“Not Darcy,” Bingley said with a chuckle.
“His sister is not yet old enough for Mr. Darcy to worry about her in that way.” Elizabeth gave Bingley a censorious look that was of no effect at all since she was struggling to keep from smiling as she did so.
“That is true,” Darcy said, “but even when she is old enough, I am certain I will be sad to be parted from her. Or at least, a trifle more sorrowful than my friend will be when his youngest sister is wed.”
Miss Elizabeth laughed, and her sister smiled.
They were as opposite to each other as he and Bingley were – and yet, or maybe because of it, they were well-matched as friends.
He would have to write to his steward and ask if there were any estates available to let or purchase near Pemberley.
Elizabeth needed her sister near her, and Bingley seemed no more attached to Netherfield than he did to anywhere else he had ever been.
“No truer words have been spoken,” Bingley quipped. “Miss Darcy is a sweet young lady. A bit on the reserved side like her brother, but not nearly so cantankerous.”
Darcy shook his head. “It is little wonder that I become cross when my dearest friends are you and my cousin.”