Page 9

CHAPTER 9

Confessions

D inner that evening was a pleasant affair.

The groupings that had formed earlier in the day naturally carried over to the dining table with Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy flanking Bennet at the head.

The three engaged in lively conversation, touching on topics as varied as estate management and the latest publications from London.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, seated beside Elizabeth, occasionally joined in—particularly when the discussion turned to the ongoing war on the Continent—but for the most part, he entertained his end of the table with engaging anecdotes from his time in service.

Jane, seated next to her mother, was primarily occupied with Mr. Bingley who had taken the place beside her.

Their quiet conversation, punctuated by soft laughter and gentle smiles, did not go unnoticed.

Mary and Catherine, seated further down the table, listened with rapt attention to the colonel’s tales, occasionally mustering the courage to ask a shy question or two.

Surprisingly, Mrs. Bennet contributed little to the conversation.

Instead, she spent much of the meal observing the interactions at her table.

While every maternal instinct urged her to nudge Jane more firmly in Mr. Bingley’s direction, she seemed to have grasped—at least for the moment—that in such matters, restraint might serve her purposes better than interference.

After the meal, the party reconvened in the parlour, where the Bennets’ usual custom prevailed.

Bennet, ever fond of good literature, selected a volume and began to read aloud.

The gentlemen joined in the activity with marked enthusiasm—Darcy especially, who surprised more than one member of the household with the warmth of his participation and the insight of his commentary.

At one point, he even volunteered to read a passage himself, his deep voice lending gravity to the words and drawing the room’s full attention.

Colonel Fitzwilliam maintained a dialogue with Jane and Mr. Bingley, occasionally drawing a smile from Elizabeth with a clever quip or teasing remark.

Mary sat with a serious expression and nodded along with the readings though she rarely spoke.

Catherine, quieter than usual, watched the room with wide eyes, clearly absorbing every detail.

Mrs. Bennet kept to her corner, silently evaluating each gentleman’s behaviour towards her daughters and trying—not always successfully—to temper her hopeful imaginings with reason.

The evening was marked by entertaining conversation, some rather obvious staring and shy smiles, and shared laughter that rose and fell with a natural rhythm.

It ended far too soon for several parties, and the following morning, the gentlemen returned to London after an early breakfast that mirrored the evening before in its warmth and ease.

As they rode back towards London, Darcy and Fitzwilliam talked quietly about what they had observed, Bingley following a little behind with a besotted expression on his face.

When he did speak, it was usually along the lines of “Miss Bennet is an angel” or a similar expression.

“Bingley,” Darcy said, pulling on the reins to slow his horse and moving next to his friend.

“You must take care not to show more interest than you intend. Young ladies in the country are not as accustomed to the types of idle flirtations you have typically engaged in in town. If you wish to seriously pursue Miss Bennet, then please continue as you did yesterday and this morning. However, if you are not yet ready to settle down, you will need to be more circumspect.”

“Whatever do you mean, Darcy?” Bingley asked, his answer causing Fitzwilliam to snort.

“It is clear you are thoroughly besotted with the eldest Miss Bennet,” Fitzwilliam interjected, “but what Darcy is trying to say is this—if you do not truly intend to settle down and marry the lady, then you must stop behaving like a mooncalf when you are with her. It is likely that Mrs. Bennet already assumes you mean to offer for her eldest daughter, and if you are not careful, you will not only raise expectations but also engage the young lady’s affections. If you follow your usual pattern, within a fortnight your interest may wane, and you will move on to another so-called ‘angel.’”

He also slowed his horse to come alongside Bingley and turned to him with a serious expression.

“Being in the country, where there is less variety, your attention may endure a little longer. But if you leave without making your intentions clear—without a proposal—you may damage her reputation and break her heart. Worse still, if others in the community have witnessed your attentions and perceive your actions as courtship, they will assume she has somehow failed or been cast aside. That sort of gossip lingers for a woman and could affect her reputation.”

Bingley looked genuinely affronted.

“When have I ever behaved so scandalously?”

“You may not have left a trail of ruined reputations behind you,” Darcy said evenly, “but there have been more than a few young ladies who believed you meant to offer for them. I recall two in particular who had every reason to expect a declaration. ”

He paused as though he was attempting to recall both situations.

“Admittedly, you had known each scarcely a fortnight—but your attentions towards each young lady were blatant: seeking them out at every gathering, dancing multiple sets at each event, singling them out in conversation. Their families believed you had serious intentions. So did they.

“When your interest shifted and you withdrew, they were left disappointed, deeply so.

Fortunately, their relations chose not to confront you—but that does not mean your behaviour left no wound.

”

Bingley turned to his friend in surprise, pulling on the reins, causing the horse to stop in the middle of the road.

“Surely not,” he said.

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am, Bingley,” Darcy said evenly.

“And in both instances, I recall, it was a brother or a father who approached me, asking for an explanation. If you remember, I spoke to you about it each time it occurred.”

He paused to think.

“With Miss Matilda Smith, it was your sister who took issue—because the young lady’s fortune came from trade. It was she who persuaded you to end the connection in that case, arguing that a connection with her family would hurt her own chances to marry well.”

Bingley gave a small, uneasy nod, remembering the events referenced, but he did not speak to defend himself.

Darcy continued, his voice sharpening.

“You must be more circumspect in Meryton—especially with the Bennet family. Mr. Bennet is a friend of mine, and I will not see his daughters trifled with.”

There was a pause, heavy with meaning.

“You allow your sister too much influence,” Darcy added, quieter now.

“She may believe herself your guide, but she does not always act in your best interest, only hers. We have spoken of this before as well. ”

The final words landed with more weight than Bingley had expected.

The note of steel in Darcy’s voice was unmistakable—controlled, but not without edge.

He had heard that tone before but never directed at him.

“I will take care, Darcy,” came the reply, and all three gentlemen nudged their horses forward once more.

Darcy and Fitzwilliam resumed their conversation, while Bingley rode in silence—no longer lost in thoughts of Miss Bennet, but turning over the weight of his own decisions, especially in regard to his sister.

Up ahead, Fitzwilliam cast a glance over his shoulder, a familiar spark of mischief in his eye.

“You would scold your young friend for his behaviour,” he said, “when yours was hardly more commendable?”

Darcy turned towards him, affront clear on his face.

“What in blazes do you mean by that, Richard? When have I ever led a young lady on?”

“You acted rather besotted with Miss Elizabeth,” Fitzwilliam replied blandly, his tone all the more irritating for its calmness.

“You cannot imagine she might have formed an idea or two from your attentions during this visit?”

Darcy stiffened in the saddle.

“Attentions? I have done nothing improper. Polite conversation, perhaps. Civility. That is hardly—” He stopped, hearing the hollowness in his own defence.

Fitzwilliam gave a shrug.

“Perhaps. But even an intelligent young lady may be swayed by some determined attention towards her. While we were in Meryton, you spoke often to her. Sought her company. Talked to her. Smiled, even.”

Darcy grimaced.

“It is not a crime to smile at a young lady.”

“From you, it is practically a declaration,” Fitzwilliam said, grinning.

Suddenly becoming more serious, he continued.

“While Bennet may know you from letters, he does not know of your famous ‘Darcy Reserve’ that has you lurking along the walls of ballrooms.”

There was a pause as they rode on, hooves thudding softly against the earth.

Darcy said nothing. He was not in the habit of misrepresenting himself, and yet—he could not quite deny the pleasure he had taken in Elizabeth’s company, nor the warmth her presence had begun to stir in him.

“She is clever,” Fitzwilliam said more gently.

“And she sees more than most.”

“Yes,” Darcy said at last, his voice low.

“She does.”

After a pause, he spoke again, so softly that his cousin barely could make out his words.

“I like her, Richard. I know what my father said about marriage, but she is so different from the lady I believed I would end up marrying…” he paused and let the words linger.

“What I feel for her…it is unexpected.”

“You do not need to decide now, but you will need to be circumspect when you return to Netherfield until you come to a decision,” Fitzwilliam replied seriously.

“It will be several weeks before you see her again, and in that time, you will need to decide whether you intend to pursue her or not. If you decide against her, you will need to be even more cautious.”

Darcy nodded and, like his young friend, rode the remainder of the way in thoughtful silence.

Upon reaching town, the three men parted ways.

They would meet again at White’s the following week, but for now, each had matters to attend to—and no small amount to consider—as they prepared for the journey into Hertfordshire.

That same day, once Darcy had attended to some of the business that had been awaiting him upon his return, he took out a clean sheet of paper.

Instead of dipping his pen into the ink, he considered what he ought to write.

He hoped to make his sister comfortable with the idea of joining him at Netherfield.

To do this, he wanted to introduce his sister to the Misses Bennet before her arrival—by telling her about them ahead of time, he hoped he could alleviate any of the worry she might feel about meeting strangers.

If he could tell her a little about each of the sisters ahead of time, it would be less like meeting a stranger and more like meeting a new friend.

He shrugged to himself at the thought; he was uncertain that it would work in truth but believed that it could not hurt to try.

However, he struggled to compose the letter introducing the women, especially as he debated within himself what to do or think about one of the ladies in particular.

Darcy already knew from his cousin that it would be mid-October before his family would join him at Netherfield.

He had debated waiting to go until they would arrive, but when Miss Elizabeth mentioned the assembly, he had wished to dance with her.

Not knowing when they might have another opportunity, he had decided at that moment that he would come with Bingley or at least within a few days of his friend’s arrival.

While it would force him into Miss Bingley’s company without others from his family, he would not disappoint Miss Elizabeth now.

Shaking his head to clear it slightly, Darcy dipped his pen into the bottle of ink and began writing:

Dearest Georgiana,

My dear sister, by now you have heard from our aunt about the invitation to Netherfield.

I know I originally told you that I would not want you subjected to Miss Bingley, but I believe that between our aunt and Mrs. Annesley, you will be well protected from your hostess.

At least you have the excuse of your studies that will allow you to hide yourself in your room if the company becomes tedious, and our aunt is quite adept at rebuking social climbers.

I believe these challenges will be outweighed by the benefits of meeting the family of Father’s old friend, Mr. Thomas Bennet.

Since Father’s death, I have kept up a correspondence with his friend, and it just so happens that Bingley’s leased estate is nearby.

While Mr. Bennet may not be of much interest to you—although he does have a few stories about Father that you may find enjoyable—I hope you will come because of the possibility of meeting his daughters.

There are five ranging in age from two and twenty to nearly fifteen.

I believe that the four sisters I met—the youngest is away at school—will be good companions for you.

The eldest is Miss Jane Bennet, and Bingley is already enamoured of her.

She is blonde and very pretty, and she seems to be kind, but since my friend monopolised her attention while I was at Longbourn, her family’s estate, I cannot tell you much more about her.

Her next sister, Elizabeth, is twenty, and is witty and intelligent.

Miss Elizabeth has dark hair and green eyes, and she and her elder sister are a startling contrast in appearances.

One would hardly recognise them as sisters if not for the fact that they have a very similar smile.

I actually met Elizabeth as she was visiting the tenants on both her family’s estate and at Netherfield when Bingley and I visited the area.

Elizabeth assists her father in managing many aspects of the estate and has acted as his secretary on occasion.

She joined her father and me in our conversations about the estate while I was there.

Moreover she has read many of the same works that you and I have, so you will have much to discuss with her about literature and poetry.

Unfortunately, she shares some of the same ideas as you do regarding novels, but I suppose that must be overlooked.

After her come Miss Mary and Miss Catherine.

I cannot say I learnt much about them, for they are not yet out, and while they were with the family, they remained mostly with their companion and did not put themselves forward.

As I understand from Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary is eighteen and Miss Catherine turned sixteen this summer, just a year older than you.

Miss Mary is studious and enjoys reading and playing the pianoforte.

She is talented though perhaps not as much as you.

I believe you will enjoy playing together.

Miss Catherine is quite the artist, or so I am told.

There were portraits of several family members displayed in Mr. Bennet’s study, and I was informed that Miss Catherine had drawn them.

She is quite good for one so young, and she might be able to assist you with your art.

I say might because I am not certain anything can improve your talent in this area, but perhaps Miss Catherine could.

I know, it is rare for me to tease you, but I hope that my small jest has made you smile.

Richard expects that his mother will accept the invitation to Netherfield, so I look forward to seeing you there.

Something else to make you smile: Miss Elizabeth informed me of an assembly not long after Bingley takes up residence at Netherfield.

Since I will be with him, I will doubtlessly have to attend.

Fortunately, since I have already met the Misses Bennet and at least two of them will be in attendance as well, I will be able to dance with them instead of just the Bingley sisters.

I have already requested a set from both Miss Jane Bennet and Elizabeth, along with their friend Miss Charlotte Lucas.

Can you imagine the look on Miss Bingley’s face when she learns this?

I miss you, dear sister, and hope to hear from you soon.

Yours, etc.,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

That done, Darcy took a moment to re-read what he had written.

All seemed in order, and Darcy smiled again as he considered his sister’s face as she read it.

He would have to learn more of the younger two Bennet daughters when he was in the area, so he could tell his sister about them.