Page 4 of The Bennet Heir

Chapter Three

I mmediately upon the Netherfield party’s arriving at the assembly— ‘fashionably’ late due to Caroline Bingley’s inability to dress in a reasonable time—Darcy sought his new friends, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, hoping for an introduction to their sister.

His search was delayed by Sir William, who had visited Bingley before Darcy’s own arrival, and the introduction of several women. One of these was Mrs. Frances Bennet, who quickly shoved her two daughters at the available gentlemen. Bingley swiftly asked Miss Jane Bennet for a dance, while Darcy ignored the matron’s rather bald hints that he ought to dance with Miss Lydia, who appeared to be younger than his sister and much too young to be in attendance that night. While her hair was artfully arranged, she was dressed as a girl still in the schoolroom, and dancing with her was out of the question.

His impressions were confirmed a short time later when he finally was free from Sir William and able to make his way to where Bennet stood with his wife, Mrs. Charlotte Bennet. “Good evening, Darcy. You remember my wife, do you not?”

Darcy bowed at the lady. “Of course. Might I request a dance from you this evening, Mrs. Bennet?”

“If you insist; however, some of the unmarried ladies would appreciate your dancing with them instead. Men are scarce in our little town, and the young ladies are often obliged to sit out for a set or two. Lizzy frequently sits out to encourage the men to dance with some of the younger girls to help bolster their confidence in the activity,” Charlotte demurred.

“I see,” Darcy said, glancing around the room with deliberate casualness. “I would ask her to dance, but I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting your sister. Both your husband and his uncle have spoken highly of her. Is she free at the moment?”

He worked hard to maintain an air of indifference, but his pulse betrayed him, quickening at the thought of the lady. The day before, during his ride, he had caught sight of a young woman with chocolate-brown hair that gleamed in the sunlight as she walked with confident grace across a field. The image had lingered with him, and now he could not help but hope that the intriguing Miss Elizabeth Bennet might turn out to be the very same lady.

Charlotte attempted to conceal her smile. She knew that Elizabeth had never been formally introduced to Mr. Darcy even if their paths had crossed briefly in London. In addition, Elizabeth had often heard her uncle, Mr. Gardiner, speak of the gentleman, as well as her brother, and had developed a quiet admiration for him over the years. Aware of his position within the ton , she harboured no illusions that her interest might be reciprocated. However, she had been intrigued at the idea of finally meeting him face to face when her brother mentioned his presence in the area.

“Lizzy is presently dancing with my younger brother,” Charlotte said, indicating a pair dancing not far from them. “Since my marriage, the two have become even more like siblings than they were before,” Charlotte noted the way the gentleman’s eyes sought her sister, almost jealously, she thought with a small smile.

Darcy remained silent for several moments, his gaze fixed on the lovely woman before him. In an instant, he realised she was not only the same young lady he had seen walking the day before but also the one he had noticed the previous spring during a visit to Mr. Gardiner. The connection deepened as he recalled overhearing her speak during his time in town. Her conversation had intrigued him then, but circumstances had not allowed for an introduction at that time. Now, faced with her presence, he found himself captivated anew.

Even though Bennet was speaking to him, and Darcy thought he had answered appropriately, the wait for this dance to be over felt significantly longer than usual. Finally, the young lady was escorted to where he stood next to her brother. “Lizzy, I would like to introduce you to one of the guests staying at Netherfield. Darcy, my sister, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Lizzy, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.”

Darcy accepted Elizabeth’s hand as she curtsied, inclining his head in a bow so near to her fingers that he came close to brushing them with his lips. The faint colour that rose in her cheeks pleased him more than he cared to admit, and with a calm voice that belied the flutter of his nerves, he invited her to dance. When she readily agreed, confessing her next set was free, a surprising relief coursed through him.

As they made their way to the floor, Darcy was acutely aware of Elizabeth’s presence beside him, her light blush deepening under his gaze. Unable to suppress a small smile, he offered, “Miss Bennet, I am most pleased to make your acquaintance. I admit, I was surprised to realise you are the Miss Bennet I have heard so much about from your brother.” A pause. “You may not know this, but I also have heard of you from your Uncle Gardiner. I believe I have even seen you from a distance when I was in company with him in London.”

Her brows rose slightly, and the blush on her cheeks spread further though her composed expression did not falter. “The surprise is mutual, Mr. Darcy,” she responded with a touch of playful mischief lighting the grin on her pretty lips. “I had not expected the renowned Mr. Darcy to be so familiar with my comings and goings. Tell me, sir, has my brother shared all my most scandalous exploits? If so, I fear you may think me quite the hoyden.”

Darcy chuckled softly, appreciating her wit. “Not at all. I confess that before meeting you, I had already formed a favourable impression.”

“And after meeting me?” she murmured as she passed. Their conversation was interrupted when the dance separated them, but his gaze did not waver.

“Indeed, I find my initial belief not only confirmed but surpassed,” he replied, a subtle smile playing on his lips, eager for the next steps in the dance that brought them closer once more. “You are enchanting and lovelier than I could have imagined.”

She is lovely, he thought, but I should not speak so to a woman I have just met. She will think me a rake.

Elizabeth tilted her head slightly, her tone both teasing and curious. “You flatter me, sir. Yet, given what I have heard of the great Fitzwilliam Darcy, I must say, I expected you to be far more serious. And much less of a flirt.”

Pleased at her direct, yet playful response, Darcy felt the faintest warmth rise to his cheeks at his unusually forward behaviour. “My apologies, Miss Bennet. I do not usually act so boldly, particularly not with a lady I just met, but your presence seems to draw out a more forward nature in me.”

Her lips curved into a small smile as they passed one another again, her cheeks lightly tinged with pink. “You do not need to apologise, Mr. Darcy. I meant to tease, not chastise. You will need to forgive me; I have often been accused of impertinence and am no doubt proving my reputation as a hoyden was well-earned.”

“I repeat what I said before: you are enchanting.” He smiled when he noticed her pink cheeks take on a rosy hue and, for the first time, found he was enjoying a flirtation with a young lady.

Just then, they were interrupted by Lydia’s crashing into Elizabeth as she ran heedlessly through the room. Darcy instinctively steadied Elizabeth as she stumbled, his hands firm yet gentle on her arms. She appeared mortified, her cheeks now a deeper red than before.

“Forgive me, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said quickly, her voice taut with embarrassment. “That was my youngest sister, Lydia. She is far too young to be in company, but my stepmother insists she is entitled to her own share of amusement.”

“It is not your fault. I understand she is your half-sister and that her mother has raised her herself instead of allowing her to be taught by the governess like your other sisters,” he replied with steadfast determination. “She is young yet, and has many years to learn how to behave properly.”

Elizabeth drew in a breath, keeping her eyes on the floor. ‘Yes, sir. I will understand if you do not wish to finish the dance with me.”

Darcy’s voice softened, yet it carried sincerity. “Miss Bennet, look at me.”

She did, reluctantly, and his expression was earnest and his voice was sure. “There is no reason for me to abandon this dance,” he continued. “On the contrary, I would very much like to become better acquainted with you, should you permit me to call.”

Elizabeth was astonished by his request. “Are you… are you certain, sir? My youngest sister is… I do not know what she is, but her behaviour is mortifying.”

“She is what, twelve or thirteen years old?” he asked, watching as Elizabeth nodded. “She will outgrow this kind of behaviour, but if she does not, well, perhaps your brother could step in and do something about her then. You are not to blame for her mother’s unwillingness to teach her proper manners.”

“But she is my family, sir, and I know that her behaviour will reflect poorly on me.”

“Perhaps in Meryton, but if you were to go elsewhere and… you were to shed the name Bennet, it would not impact you as much.”

She shot him a startled glance, his face mirroring the same surprise his words had caused her. “Sir, you cannot mean…” She waved an arm between the two of them, unsettled by what he seemed to indicate. He cannot seriously be considering offering for me with so slight an acquaintance. Yes, he knows my brother and uncle, but that cannot be enough. I will not deny that after meeting him, I am attracted to him, and I have heard much about him from both men, but surely that is not enough to connect myself to him so irrevocably. However, I would like to get to know him better if we are allowed to do so.

He sighed, recollecting himself, thereby causing her to cease her erratic thoughts. “I only mean I would like to know you better, Miss Bennet. That is all I can say at this moment.”

“Then I anticipate your call, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied, looking up at him through her lashes. On others, he might call the expression coy, but on this lady, it was something else entirely.

The two remained mostly silent for the rest of their dance, but their eyes rarely strayed from each other.

As the dance concluded, Darcy’s own mind was racing, making it difficult for him to form words. He knew he had been interested in meeting Elizabeth Bennet after hearing of her so often from her uncle and now hearing that opinion confirmed by her brother. However, never before had he reacted so to any woman and never before would he have even hinted at a lady shedding her maiden name, fearing that he might raise expectations.

Yet that was exactly what he had done. Instead of being terrified, Darcy felt… was it peace? Contentment? Whatever it was, he was not as unsettled as he would have been if it were anyone else. Perhaps it was simply that he knew much about her character from what others had said about her.

When the dance was over, Darcy offered his arm and began to escort her towards her sister. However, Miss Bingley interrupted their progress in that direction. That lady began to grasp at Darcy’s free arm as soon as she was close enough to do so, ignoring Elizabeth. He attempted to avoid her touch by moving his arm behind his back, but she still stood far too close for comfort.

“Mr. Darcy,” she drawled far too loudly and without care for who might overhear, “how can my brother subject us to these country mushrooms? Surely, you must advise him to lease an estate somewhere more refined, where the entertainments are of a higher quality. How can you tolerate these self-important people?”

Darcy had to hide a grin when Elizabeth muttered, “Is she speaking of herself?” However, he suppressed the urge and managed to increase the distance between them by shifting slightly closer to Elizabeth.

“Really, Miss Bingley, I find tonight little different from assemblies I have attended in Lambton. While I do not deny that events in London are different, we are not in London. There are many pleasant people here,” he said, turning towards the young lady on his arm. “Miss Bennet, might I introduce my friend’s sister and my hostess to you?”

Miss Bingley found this response irksome on multiple levels. His request to the “country bumpkin” hinted at a greater significance attached to this other woman which Caroline could not overlook. She consoled herself with the knowledge of her superior dowry, unmatched by anyone present. Her eyes critically swept over the attendees’ attire, noting the inferior quality and the clear evidence that many gowns were at least a season out of date. What Caroline failed to realise, however, was that the lady in question had intentionally chosen attire suited to a country assembly, avoiding a display of wealth that might alienate those around her.

She was further frustrated by the gentleman slipping from her grasp, a stark reminder that she had no prior claim to him. Mr. Darcy belonged to her, of that she was certain—why else would he have accepted her brother’s invitation? How dare he suggest she was merely his friend’s sister? She was convinced that she held far more significance to him than that.

With a haughty nod, she signified her agreement to his request, disregarding the fact that it had not been directed at her. She also failed to notice the grin Elizabeth hid behind her hand—though Darcy did. The corners of his lips twitched as he made the introduction.

“Miss Bennet, may I present to you Miss Caroline Bingley, sister to my friend Bingley? Miss Bennet’s brother and I have several acquaintances in common, and I am pleased to get to know him and his family better while we are here at Netherfield,” Darcy said.

Elizabeth curtsied slightly, as was polite, but Miss Bingley only inclined her head condescendingly and did not notice the looks exchanged between the pair. She was furious at the introduction, since once again, Darcy had given Miss Bennet greater significance.

Upset and not thinking clearly, Miss Bingley tried again to clasp Mr. Darcy’s arm. “Mr. Darcy, is it not our dance?”

“No, Miss Bingley, I have not requested your hand for a dance tonight. At this moment, I am escorting Miss Bennet back to her brother, and I am already promised to Mrs. Bennet for the next.”

Miss Bingley barely resisted the urge to stomp in frustration. “Mr. Darcy, might you introduce me to our neighbours? I have yet to meet the rest of these Bennets, although I have heard their names mentioned often. I must say, I am rather surprised you danced with Mrs. Bennet, given what I have heard of her.” She tittered, clearly convinced of her own wit.

Dutifully, Darcy agreed, although he did not offer his arm to the lady as she clearly expected. She was surprised when he led them in the opposite direction than she thought and to be introduced to a Mr. and Mrs. Bennet who were much younger than she had expected.

“You are Mrs. Bennet?” she nearly screeched. “How many Mrs. Bennets are in this town?”

“Merely three,” Charlotte replied, much amused at her new neighbour. “I am Mrs. Jonathan Bennet. My husband is the master of Longbourn, the estate to the west of Netherfield.”

“And the other Mrs. Bennet who is here tonight? I thought she was the mistress of Longbourn,” Miss Bingley asked, her tone laced with disdain, her nose lifting ever so slightly as though the very idea offended her.

“No, Charlotte is the current mistress of Longbourn,” Elizabeth explained calmly. “Mrs. Frances Bennet, my father’s second wife, was its former mistress until our father passed. The present Mr. Bennet is my brother, and Charlotte is his wife.”

“So, you share your home with your mother-in-law, Mrs. Bennet? How very confusing that must be,” Miss Bingley remarked, her voice dripping with false sympathy.

“Not at all,” Charlotte interjected smoothly. “Mrs. Bennet chose to reside near her brother in Meryton and my husband’s grandmother lives in the dower house and rarely leaves her house these days.”

Miss Bingley’s gaze flicked back to Elizabeth, a calculating gleam in her eye. “And you, Miss Bennet? With whom do you live?”

Elizabeth exchanged a wry glance with Charlotte before replying, her tone dry. “I live with my brother and his wife. Charlotte and I have always been close friends, so I was delighted when my brother asked her to be his wife.”

“Oh, how unfortunate for you. Surely, you must long for a home of your own one day, Miss Bennet,” Miss Bingley said icily, her words cutting despite her measured tone.

Elizabeth’s expression remained composed, but her tone was sharp with meaning. “I am hardly on the shelf , Miss Bingley. One might say the same of you—or am I mistaken in believing you are here to serve as hostess for your brother?”

Miss Bingley’s lips curved into a sly smile as her gaze flickered pointedly towards Darcy. “Not for too much longer. I expect my suitor will ask for my hand very soon.”

Elizabeth’s eyes lit with feigned enthusiasm. “How wonderful, Miss Bingley! When might we have the pleasure of meeting the fortunate gentleman? Will he be joining your family at Netherfield soon?”

Darcy, who had been following the exchange in stoic silence, suddenly began to cough. Elizabeth turned to him with a raised brow, her voice laced with mock concern. “Did you not promise me some refreshment, Mr. Darcy? Perhaps I should fetch you something—or have you recovered?”

Darcy straightened and cleared his throat. “I am well, Miss Bennet. But allow me to accompany you to the punch bowl. I will fetch us both something to drink.” Turning to Mrs. Bennet, he added, “I shall return shortly for our dance, madam.”

With that, he followed Elizabeth as she led him away from the small group, leaving Miss Bingley glowering in their wake—though neither Darcy nor Elizabeth took note of her.

Charlotte nodded her agreement at the couple’s exit while attempting to restrain her own laughter. It was evident to all that Miss Bingley was not pleased by the conversation and the fact that Miss Bennet was once again taking her prey away from her. Her hint had not gone unnoticed by anyone in the conversation, and it was equally obvious that Darcy had not appreciated the lady’s attempt at manipulation.

“Miss Bennet,” Darcy murmured, his voice low and urgent as he allowed himself to be led away. “I must clarify something. Despite Miss Bingley’s...implications, I am neither engaged, nearly engaged, nor am I courting her. I assure you, I would not have presumed to request to call on you if I were bound to another by honour or otherwise.” He paused, his brow furrowing as if debating whether to continue.

“Still, I confess it is uncomfortable to speak ill of my hostess, but I cannot let her falsehoods linger unchallenged. I have no intention—none whatsoever—of ever marrying that harpy.” His tone softened as he added, “Forgive me for my bluntness, but Miss Bingley’s behaviour just now was an attempt to suggest a connection that does not exist.”

Elizabeth regarded him steadily, her amusement tempered by understanding. “I assumed as much, Mr. Darcy; I have encountered women like her before. My brother would welcome you to visit as often as you wish, and Charlotte would undoubtedly invite you to stay at Longbourn if it became necessary to avoid Miss Bingley altogether.” Her tone shifted, growing serious. “I do not know if she is desperate enough to attempt a compromise, but I would caution you to remain on your guard.”

Darcy’s hand hesitated before covering hers where it rested on his arm—a gesture far more intimate than their brief acquaintance warranted. The warmth of her touch sent an unbidden sense of ease through him, a feeling he had not expected nor could entirely understand. He had always been guarded around new acquaintances, yet with Elizabeth, the barriers he so carefully maintained seemed unnecessary, even unwelcome.

“You are unlike anyone I have ever met, Miss Bennet,” he whispered, his voice tinged with awe. As the words left his lips, he was struck by their truth. She had a way of unsettling him—of drawing him out from behind the reserve he had cultivated over years.

For a man who had always prided himself on his self-control, the speed with which he felt at ease in her presence was as disarming as it was exhilarating. Her nearness now, the way her eyes searched his, was both a comfort and a challenge, one he found himself reluctant to end.

Though Darcy partnered several ladies introduced to him by Elizabeth, including a second dance with her, he made a deliberate effort to avoid Miss Bingley entirely. After her remarks earlier that evening, he had no desire to acknowledge her, let alone endure the ordeal of dancing with her. He did, however, dance with Mrs. Hurst, feeling it a necessary courtesy .