Page 43 of Some Natural Importance (Pride, Prejudice and Romance #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

After the tumult of emotion she had felt on their trip to Copperdale, Elizabeth was nearly overwhelmed by the delight she felt upon arriving at Longbourn and finding Mr Bingley in the sitting room with Jane.

Her mother and sisters were nearby, talking to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Her surprise was more than equalled by Darcy’s; she felt him tensing as she released his arm.

Both men rose and bowed; Mr Bingley greeted her genially, with a kind smile nearly matched by the one worn by her eldest sister.

Elizabeth’s heart warmed at the sight; if Lydia fought the restrictive dullness of mourning clothes, and Mary seemed no different in them, Jane had seemed to fade into the sad mood they created and lost her blush completely. Until now.

“Miss Elizabeth, I am pleased to see you,” Mr Bingley said. “I grieve for your loss. I greatly esteemed Mr Bennet, as a gentleman and neighbour. Forgive me for not attending you and your family sooner.”

“I thank you, and I receive your condolences with all appreciation. Having you returned to the neighbourhood is wonderful news. ”

“But your news, Miss Elizabeth!” Bingley, who looked as though he was struggling to maintain some semblance of reserve, thrust his hand out to Darcy. “Unexpected but most happy news! Congratulations to you both.”

At this, the colonel stepped forward from what Elizabeth had perceived as a curious silence.

He lifted her hand and bowed, and threw a peculiar glance at Darcy.

“I echo all of Bingley’s sentiments. My inscrutable cousin has shared little news of his exploits, and I see how well he has endeared himself to you and to your family during this most grievous time.

“Mrs Bennet has explained to us of all the details of your courtship and your late father’s blessing.

” He grasped his cousin’s shoulder and looked intently at Elizabeth.

“Never let it be said that my cousin has not an eye for business, Miss Elizabeth. In recognising your worth, he has won your heart.”

Elizabeth accepted what she took for congratulations and waited for the colonel to speak to Darcy; instead, he only glanced at his cousin and moved across the room.

Darcy’s expression was enigmatic; he looked either satisfied or irritated, or neither.

His cousin’s presence at Longbourn clearly had surprised him, and his welcome had put him on guard. It was not an auspicious beginning.

If Colonel Fitzwilliam’s choice of words seemed rude and his tone lacked sincerity, Elizabeth ignored it; she had noted his mercurial nature in their prior meeting.

She knew Darcy had written to his family; his cousin’s unexpected arrival and his reference to her mother’s explanations indicated the letters had not arrived.

The reasons for his visit remained, and would remain, a mystery, she guessed, until the two cousins conferred in private and his true feelings on Darcy’s attachment to her were aired.

Until then, she took her seat next to Darcy on the small settee and listened to Mr Bingley’s tale of the obstreperous but magnificent horse he had won.

She looked around at the faces, her sisters dressed severely for mourning but their faces soft and happy as they, like Mrs Bennet, took pleasure in the presence of three young gentlemen in her drawing room.

Elizabeth felt a pang of sorrow that her father could not enjoy the visit; she quickly scolded her foolish thoughts, recognising that he would have taken Darcy and the colonel into his book room and left poor, kind-hearted Mr Bingley to entertain the ladies.

She had never imagined feeling such lasting resentment towards her father, but neither had she really known the cost of his inattention and selfishness.

Her thoughts drifted to the man beside her, tall and straight, handsome and generous, every inch of him proper and refined, sitting on a sun-faded blue settee in a cramped, gloomy drawing room.

Sitting so closely, and having gained insights into his thoughts, she knew his posture reflected his tension. A sense of uneasiness crept over her.

The quick breath she took to calm herself went unnoticed by her family, more preoccupied with the pleasure of having visitors come to entertain them rather than merely commiserate. Elizabeth felt Darcy lean closer and his finger brushed hers as he whispered, “Are you well?”

“As well as you, I expect.”

As she looked up, she found Colonel Fitzwilliam’s attention fixed on her as if he were trying to sort out a puzzle or decide whether to attack or retreat.

Darcy’s garrulous cousin had been nearly silent since his arrival.

He was as much a mystery to her as she to him; it was Darcy who would have to supply all the clues to each of them.

The questions, when the three men arrived at Netherfield and had closed themselves away in the study, were many. Bingley moved to the sideboard to pour each a celebratory serving, pausing when the conversation began on a less happy note .

“What are you about?”

“About?” Darcy, prepared for his cousin’s inquisition, moved to a chair near the fire. The November weather had turned sharply cold when the sun went down and he was chilled. “I am to wed Elizabeth Bennet. I wrote to you in London. The letter awaits you there.”

“You are marrying a country girl you have known a few weeks?—”

“Close to two months.”

“Is this a joke?” Richard stalked over and planted his feet in front of Darcy, forcing him to look up for his lecture. Darcy was not amused, and his severe look answered the question.

“I should send you to Bedlam!” Richard stared at him, clearly stunned and more than a little angry.

“The girl is in mourning and from a family of no stature or money. Her father is dead and there are no dowries. Yet you have had a ‘secret engagement’ of how long? Were you attached when I last saw you? Miss Elizabeth seemed not to view you as even a friend when we called on them at Gracechurch Street. In fact, I saw no particular affection on either side.”

Offended for the Bennets and unable to fully argue against his cousin’s conclusions, Darcy remained silent, waiting for the outrage to blow aside. He had nearly forgotten Bingley was present until he interrupted.

“I should have liked to propose a toast, but I fear a violent celebration and shards of glass in my carpets.” Bingley looked hard at Richard and his voice held a sharper edge than Darcy could ever recall in it.

“I do not wish to offend you, but had I any notion of your feelings against the Bennets and Darcy’s connexion to Miss Elizabeth, I should not have brought you here, into my home.

You are my guest, and you are Darcy’s cousin, and you are a gentleman.

I would thank you not to impugn the good name and reputation of any of the Bennets, who have lost their father and face uncertain futures. ”

Bingley picked up the two brandies he had poured and handed one to Richard.

“While their betrothal surprised me as well, I will stand by the connexion between them.” Bingley gave Darcy an amused look and handed him the second glass.

“Darcy came to Netherfield for sport and to advise me, yet spent most mornings at Longbourn in company with Miss Elizabeth and her father.

“I am both happy and surprised that Darcy finally found a lady able to withstand his inevitable cleverness, his ill temper, and his officious need to direct his friends. Miss Elizabeth is able, kind, and perhaps even cleverer than Darcy.”

Touched by his friend’s defence, Darcy returned Bingley’s grin with a wry smile and stood up to shake his hand. “Thank you, though I beg you not to pass on those sentiments to Elizabeth.”

Clasping his hand, Bingley leaned in, “I demand to know more of this romance, but I shall leave you to your cousin’s interrogation. After so many weeks away, I fear I must show my interest in the running of the estate.”

After Bingley left the room, the conversation resumed in a more civil manner.

“I am not a man who insults ladies, but this is a curious turn of events. You could marry anyone, and have declined to marry the lady my family wishes. So explain this to me. But first,” Richard said, “I must ask, do you have to marry her? Is she?—?”

“No!” Darcy downed his brandy and dropped the glass on the table beside him. “My honour is engaged and her honour is fully intact.”

Despite his cousin’s scepticism, Darcy knew that if there was one person in the world to whom he could speak freely and easily, it was he. There was much to tell him, and he knew honesty was paramount. “This is not what you would think. It would please me if you would listen.”

They sat, and Darcy slowly began the story of how his friendship with Mr Bennet evolved into amity with and attraction to Elizabeth.

Such a heart-warming tale was more than Richard had anticipated, and more than he could fully believe. He tapped his foot, impatient and incredulous.

“Friendship and affection led to a proposal?”

“Mr Bennet saw the connexion we had formed, and as I advised him on his estate?—”

“You are a steward now? What are you up to, advising Bingley and some man nearly unknown to you?”

“I enjoyed his conversation and the challenge he gave me on a gameboard. His book room was a haven from...”

Darcy did not need to finish the sentence; Richard understood a politely unspoken reference to Miss Bingley.

“Bennet was ailing, more severely than I knew, and not especially knowledgeable about estate matters.” Darcy shrugged. “He had some land to sell.”

Darcy’s revelation did nothing to alleviate his cousin’s impatience.

“You purchased land from him? Is his daughter part of the agreement?”

“Please desist from impugning the character of my future wife.”