Page 3 of Superior Connections

I t had begun to rain, and the wind was freezing, so the ride back to Netherfield was exceedingly unpleasant for Darcy. When he entered, the butler cast a puzzled glance at him, and so did the few other servants he encountered on the way to his chamber. He pulled the bell, then began to remove his clothes while he waited for his valet.

Half an hour later, washed and changed, Darcy pondered whether he should talk to Bingley. It was hardly past noon, and the day had already been as eventful as an entire month. Thinking back, it was hard to believe it had actually happened.

Taking a ride after breakfast had seemed like a good idea to clear his mind and improve his disposition.

He had slept little and ill lately since Miss Elizabeth Bennet had invaded his heart and his mind. At first, he had been confused about his feelings, worried about his lack of control, and upset about his weakness. Then, it became certain that it was not a mere infatuation; he had fallen in love with her against his better judgment and against his will.

Of all the beautiful women he had met, the only one who had enchanted and captivated him was her — the daughter of an insignificant country gentleman. She was beautiful, of course, but there was much more to her than that — her uncommonly pretty eyes, her smile, her wit, her tendency to tease, her unaffected manners, her determination to express her opinion. Or perhaps she was simply the woman most suited to him; he had read and heard such things did happen, but he had always laughed at the notion.

That morning he had gone for a ride to forget about her, yet he had unexpectedly encountered her. It frightened him to imagine what would have happened if he had not been there to help her. Her injury was likely not serious, but the consequences could have been terrible had she been alone.

Besides returning her to Longbourn safely, he had been given the chance to speak to her about Wickham and warn her about trusting him. He hoped she was as clever and wise as he assumed her to be and that she would listen to his advice.

But, beyond everything else, he had been given the chance to hold her in his arms, to carry her, to lay her down on her own bed; gestures which, considering the situation, were perfectly acceptable but whose recollections stirred his senses.

He was a man of the world and had been in the intimate company of women before. However, the sort of feelings that he experienced with Elizabeth, in her presence or only thinking of her, were new, worrisome, and overwhelming.

Until that day, he had never pondered whether his admiration for Elizabeth could lead to something more. Considering the differences between their situations in life, a bond of marriage seemed impossible, and he had no intention of trifling with her. His attraction was intended to remain a secret from everyone, including her. He assumed he would leave Hertfordshire soon and never see her again, except perhaps by chance.

However, while taking her home, engaging in conversation, and wishing to please her and to improve her opinion of him, he had apologised for his rudeness at the assembly and admitted his admiration for her. And then, he had taken her in his arms, and her hands had entwined around his neck, and everything had seemed different ever since.

He could still remember her breath on his cheek, her warmth, her scent; the smell of fresh air combined with rain and a little bit of dirt on her skin was the most enchanting perfume. When he had removed her gloves and slipped her hands into his, his fingers had brushed over her bare palms. How was it possible that such a brief touch, which would go unnoticed in the case of any other woman, could be so alluring, so stirring?

“Sir, I shall take these clothes to be washed. May I bring you anything else?”

“That will be all. Wait — not the gloves. Give me the gloves.”

“But sir — they are the dirtiest.”

“Yes, I see that. Just put them on the mantelpiece to dry.”

“Very well, sir.”

The valet left, and Darcy poured himself a drink and returned to his musings. He would keep the gloves that Elizabeth had worn and which still carried the trace of her skin. Placing his hands inside would feel almost like holding hers.

Such thoughts angered him as he realised he was behaving like a schoolboy with his first love. In truth, she was his first love, but he was an old man who knew enough of the world to keep his composure and who had always prided himself on his self-control. How had he changed so deeply in such a short while?

He had come to Hertfordshire a month ago, to help Bingley with his new lease of Netherfield. It was the first property Bingley had been responsible for and a first step towards his goal of purchasing his own estate one day.

Darcy had agreed to provide his friend with advice, but he had also come to retreat to the country for a while and calm his own mind after the tormenting summer when Georgiana had almost fallen victim to George Wickham’s deceptions. He had taken advantage of her good heart and charmed her to the point where she had agreed to elope with the scoundrel. If he had succeeded, it would have been Wickham’s perfect revenge and the ruin of both Darcys’ lives.

Thankfully, Georgiana had proved her strength of character, wisdom, and loyalty and had disclosed the elopement to him before it took place. Since then, Darcy had been blaming himself for not being cautious enough in protecting his sister as well as for hiring Mrs Younge, whose betrayal had been a great disappointment.

He had found his sister another companion in Mrs Annesley, who seemed to be helpful in the process of Georgiana’s slow recovery. But the day when his sister’s wound, caused by their father’s godson, would heal was still far away. Just as far as the day when Darcy would be ready to forgive himself. And how could he do that when George Wickham had crossed paths with him again?

“Darcy? Forgive me, I did knock, but you did not hear me. May I come in?” Bingley asked from the doorway.

“Please do.”

“I wondered where you have been all morning. Are you drinking? So early?”

“Just one drink. I need something to warm myself.”

“What happened? I heard all your clothes are wet and dirty. Did you have an accident? Are you hurt?”

“Yes and no. I did not have an accident. Miss Elizabeth had one. She hurt her ankle while she was taking a stroll. I took her to Longbourn on my horse.”

The brief narration left Bingley frowning.

“And? How is she? Is she injured?”

“She sprained and bruised her ankle. Hopefully it will heal soon and she will not catch a cold.”

“What a ride that must have been! I wish I had been with you. So, you went to Longbourn?”

“Yes. I was introduced to Mr Bennet, who seemed to be an agreeable gentleman.”

“He is. And the ladies?”

“Everybody was at home. Including that annoying cousin, Mr Collins. Is there anything particular you wish to ask, Bingley?”

“No…I shall call at Longbourn tomorrow and enquire after Miss Elizabeth. Will you join me?”

“I am not sure. Perhaps we should not impose — at least not both of us. Mr Collins is there, and an aunt has just arrived. I doubt they need more guests. Your presence would probably be more agreeable to them than mine.”

“I can see your disapproval every time you speak of the Bennets, Darcy. I am surprised to say so, but you seem very similar in opinion to my sisters.”

“I doubt that very much, Bingley. But I shall not deny that I disapprove of your infatuation with Miss Jane Bennet and your eagerness to reveal your admiration. Such behaviour, especially in a small town, will raise expectations that, when they are unfulfilled, might harm you, the lady, and her family.”

“Do you find my behaviour improper? Offensive?”

“Not at all, Bingley. Quite the opposite. You are nothing but amiable. But you cannot be ignorant of the expectations you are creating. And for a family with five daughters with little fortune and no connections, a marriage proposal from you would be their salvation. They must hope for and would do anything for it to happen.”

“Perhaps. But how is that any different from all the mothers who hope for a marriage proposal from you for their daughters? Just because they are part of the ton , while I and the Bennets are not, does not make it any better.”

“True. The difference is I do not fall in love with every pretty face I meet. And I do not let myself be deceived by a woman’s demure countenance.”

“This is highly offensive, Darcy! Both to me and Miss Bennet!”

“I apologise. That was certainly not my intention. Miss Bennet’s appearance and her manners are above reproach. In fact, they are probably better than those of most of the women we know.”

“Then why did you think she would deceive me?”

“Bingley, I should have chosen my words more carefully. After all, I do not know Miss Bennet so well as to guess her feelings and intentions. You are entitled to form your own opinion and to make your own decisions. You do not need to hear mine.”

“I do not need to, but I would like to hear it nevertheless.”

“If you make a decision and request my opinion, I shall offer it. Until then, my only advice is to be careful and to consider your feelings and wishes thoroughly.”

“I shall. But, Darcy, please remember that my situation cannot be compared with yours, so what you might find wanting in the Bennets might be of no consequence to me.”

“I agree.”

“I am glad you are being reasonable. Caroline and Louisa are just annoying and upsetting!”

“As I said, I am only considering your best interests.”

“I know. I think I shall have a drink with you, after all.”

“Have you decided when you will leave for London?”

“Two days after the ball. I hope to complete my business there quickly and return within a week.”

“You will spend Christmas at Netherfield?”

“Of course. And you? Will you stay in London or travel to Pemberley?”

“Georgiana and I shall stay in town. It would be better for her to be with our relatives, attend some events, and meet other people rather than suffer solitude with me at Pemberley.”

“You know you are always welcome at Netherfield — both of you.”

“I know, and I thank you, but it is very unlikely we shall travel at all.”

As they continued to talk, Darcy’s valet returned, bringing him a note.

“From Longbourn, sir.”

Darcy opened it with surprise and curiosity.

Mr Darcy,

I would not have dared to write this, considering the brevity of our acquaintance, if not for Lady Rosseford’s insistence.

Tomorrow evening, we are hosting a dinner for her, at Longbourn, and would be honoured if you would attend. Of course, Mr Bingley and his family are also invited and most welcome.

I would also like to inform you that Mr Jones expects Lizzy will make a quick recovery. For that, we thank you and are in your debt.

Regards,

T Bennet

Darcy glanced at Bingley over the piece of paper.

“It is an invitation from Mr Bennet for us all to dine at Longbourn tomorrow evening. I assume it was sent to me instead of you because he wished to thank me for helping Miss Elizabeth.”

“Oh.” Bingley’s countenance brightened. “I hope you will accept. Mrs Bennet has mentioned a dinner invitation many times, and I would like to attend before I return to town.”

“I cannot see how I could refuse it,” Darcy said after a brief hesitation. “You should ask your sisters, then I shall send our reply.”

“I shall go and ask them immediately, though I am sure I already know their answer.”

Bingley left, and Darcy looked at the note thoughtfully. He had deliberately not mentioned the presence of Lady Rosseford to Bingley, so he could not convey it to his sisters. If they knew, they might accept the invitation out of curiosity and would likely act with their usual pretension, ruining everyone’s disposition.

Lady Rosseford intrigued Darcy since she had mentioned visiting Pemberley. Her age, despite her handsomeness and elegance, must have been closer to his grandfather’s than to his father’s. Mr Bennet had called her ‘aunt’, and they apparently had not seen one another for twenty years, which, given the lady’s description, must have been around the same time she had said she visited Pemberley. It was a mystery that piqued his interest and supported his decision to accept the invitation. In truth, he would have gone in any case. With his forthcoming return to London, he might not see Elizabeth again soon, and spending an evening in her company, even in a house full of people, was a sweet, though small, compensation.

It was only a short while before Bingley brought back the anticipated answer from his sisters. Darcy wrote back thanking Mr Bennet for the invitation and accepting it on behalf of himself and Bingley since the rest of the family had other engagements.

“You know, Darcy, there is something that has puzzled me for a while. Caroline and Louisa disapprove of my admiration for Miss Bennet because of their ridiculous conviction that I might marry someone with a higher position in society, which might in turn lift them into the upper circles.”

“Very likely.”

“That is why Louisa married Hurst, who has his family name, a house in London — and nothing else. I am sorry to say such things about my brother. He is as good a man as he can be, but he does not excel at anything. And I am aware I do not either!”

“You are too hard on yourself. You are still very young and are striving to improve yourself. I see no similarity between the two of you. So, what is the puzzling part?”

“I wonder why Caroline is so opposed, almost resentful, to Miss Elizabeth? That lady is nothing to me, and she has done nothing wrong to either of us. Caroline was quite angry when she heard we shall both dine at Longbourn.”

“Young women rarely approve of other young women unrelated to them,” Darcy said.

He was quite sure he knew the real answer, but he would not share it with his friend. Miss Bingley’s resentment had begun on the evening when he had foolishly mentioned to her — of all people — his admiration for Miss Elizabeth’s fine eyes. He smiled, wondering what Miss Bingley would do if she knew the whole truth.