Page 4

CHAPTER THREE

Elizabeth

W hat a perplexing man! Mr Darcy was fast becoming an object of fascination to me, and I hated to be at his mercy.

How could I have unbent and confessed that my mother schemes in such a humiliating way?

I walked along—stormed along more like—trying to decide what maggot possessed me to display such weakness.

Finally, I reached a state of glum acceptance.

I told Mr Darcy because he would very soon know it. Jane would arrive at Netherfield soaked to the skin and very naturally be asked to shelter for the night, and Mr Darcy would hear the whole sordid tale from Caroline Bingley over breakfast.

At least I had given him an explanation for such an abhorrent display, and hopefully, he would not hold Jane to blame for the machinations of my mother.

I knew Mr Darcy to be a man of the world and expected him to recognise that my mother acted out of fear and not greed. Desperate people do desperate things.

My marching pace delivered me to Longbourn in time to see a very elegant coach drawn up to the door.

“But what is this?” I asked Kitty who stood in open-mouthed wonder on the steps.

“Mr Darcy has sent his coach for Jane with his compliments.”

I too stood with my jaw hanging open. My mother came out all in a fluster.

She was not sure whether she should be annoyed that her plans had gone awry or overjoyed that a rich man paid this mark of attention to her most beautiful daughter.

Either way, Jane stepped into the coach and was carried off to return later that evening in the same style.

Of her dinner with Mr Bingley’s sisters, Jane only said it was pleasant. But once we retired, she quietly confessed to having been interrogated as though by inquisitors.

“They were very kind,” she said quietly.

“But they demanded to know all about your connexions.”

“Yes, Lizzy.”

“And they gleefully heard of your uncle in trade and your uncle who is a Meryton solicitor.”

Jane nodded in the candlelight.

“And they also know of the entail? Did they have the gall to ask you to name the sum of your dowry?”

“No,” Jane replied sadly.

“But they will already know we have only a thousand pounds from our mother’s portion and that only payable upon her passing. These things are easy to find out, and those two seem well suited to such indelicate inquiries when their brother takes an interest in a lady.”

“Lizzy!”

“Do you believe their interest is kindly motivated? If so, you are more na?ve than I thought.”

After a long silence Jane said, “Miss Bingley was a little put out that Mr Darcy sent his coach for me.”

“And so she made sure you felt the sting of her vexation.”

“I can no longer believe she is sincere in her friendship.” Jane looked abstractedly at her image in the mirror. “Now, let us leave this conversation behind us. I am for bed, my dear.”

My sister kissed my forehead, and I braided her hair before she slipped quietly out of the room.

The very air around her spoke of her disappointment.

She knew Mr Bingley would be told he must not think of marrying such a disadvantaged girl, and she was too modest to hope her character would have more value to the man than her connexions and her paltry dowry.

At least Mr Darcy had salvaged my family’s reputation a little by thwarting Mama’s scheme. For all his superiority and intolerance for those he perceives to be beneath his notice, I began to think Mr Darcy might be a man capable of consideration. And he delighted me with his enraging provocations.

Are you ill indeed! What a ludicrous thing to say to a person!

Darcy

Bingley continued to be smitten by the eldest Bennet daughter. I continued to be fascinated by the second. But in all earnestness, neither of us could have any real ambitions in this vein.

After Bingley’s sisters hosted Jane Bennet, we heard repeatedly of the unsuitability of that family.

Their deplorable connexions did indeed daunt me, but their lack of fortune at least, I already knew.

If only this news were enough to harass me—but no, I was not to be left alone.

Caroline Bingley did not like me sending a carriage to Longbourn, and she made sure I was aware I had displeased her.

“Jane Bennet will let this small attention go to her head, sir,” Miss Bingley said.

“Hmm.”

We walked in the shrubbery on a drizzly afternoon. I had escaped the house in search of air only to be stalked and pounced upon in a moment of abstraction.

“Assure me, Mr Darcy, you will consider the appearance of things in future. For you, the offer of a carriage is nothing.”

Not nothing. I made a statement to be sure, but not the one you suspect. I did not utter this reply aloud, but I thought it with a measure of alarming satisfaction.

Miss Bingley did not wait for me to reply and continued to remonstrate with me. “For such an impoverished girl, the arrival of your coach must have signalled you are enamoured at the least.”

Yes, at the very least I am enamoured , I silently replied. However, this observation warned me I had better proceed with caution.

This flirtation with Elizabeth Bennet had begun to threaten my better judgment.

I felt more than a little reckless when I thought of her.

I am not practiced in the art of dalliance and wondered whether perhaps I should quit the field.

And I might very well have left beforehand were it not for two things.

First, who should arrive in Meryton but my arch enemy and my sister’s would-be seducer?

George Wickham! I had to refrain from growling aloud at the mere mention of his name.

And secondly, Bingley had decided to give a ball.

I meant to be there if only to make sure Wickham stayed away.

He would not dare show his face anywhere I happened to be.

And, if I were to stay a little while longer, I was determined to be more circumspect with regards to the dark-haired lady from Longbourn.