Page 5 of The Cat Who Loved Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

A thoughtful pause preceded the answer. “It is...different, certainly. But there is a certain quiet beauty here—less dramatic, perhaps, but no less worthy of regard.”

Darcy struck him as a thoughtful, intelligent man, one who handled words with an easy, precise command.

Mr. Bennet’s eyes twinkled. “We shall see if we can manage to entertain you at least once before you go. We do our best, though our amusements run to gossip and card tables more than grand scenery.”

That brought a flicker of something like amusement to Darcy’s otherwise composed features. “I look forward to discovering the local entertainments, Mr. Bennet.”

Miss Bingley observed this exchange with narrowly concealed surprise. “We were just speaking of paying calls,” she offered smoothly. “My brother is most eager to make himself known properly.”

“Oh, there will be no stopping him now,” Bennet replied dryly. “He has had my blessing, and he will not rest until my wife has fed him tea, cheese pie and roasted beef, and declared him the best of men.”

Mr. Bingley’s laugh rang out, unchecked. “I should be delighted to earn such praise!”

Rising, Mr. Bennet brushed a hand lightly over his coat sleeve as if to check for dust. “Then I shall not keep you any longer. I came to make myself known, and I believe I have succeeded in proving we are not entirely unsociable in these parts. Quite on the contrary, in fact.”

Bingley smiled warmly. “More than succeeded, sir. I cannot thank you enough.”

Darcy gave a short nod, his voice quieter but polite. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Bennet.”

“Entirely mutual, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet assured him. “I hope we shall see you both at Longbourn very soon. My wife will be unbearable with anticipation when she hears I have extended the invitation to a good friend of our new neighbour.”

This earned a genuine smile from Bingley and a subtle softening around Darcy’s eyes.

With a last bow to Caroline and a brief parting word to the gentlemen, Mr. Bennet allowed himself to be shown out, leaving behind a room that felt just a little warmer for the visit.

***

Dinner at Longbourn that evening had the air of mild ceremony. Mrs. Bennet was at her most attentive, fluttering from place to place, making sure the pudding was presented with a flourish and the napkins folded to her satisfaction.

Mr. Bennet took his time slicing the roast, his unhurried pace hinting that he was about to launch into a long conversation.

Elizabeth, catching his eye, raised her head with curiosity. “Papa, you have the look of a man with news. Pray do not keep us waiting.”

He dabbed his lips with his napkin, feigning gravity. “Ah, Lizzy, you read me too easily. Indeed, I bring tidings—from Netherfield Park.”

Kitty and Lydia sat up at once in noisy excitement. “You saw him? Mr. Bingley? Oh, tell us!”

“Yes! Oh, Mr. Bennet, do not tease us—tell us everything at once! Was he as handsome as they say? Did he seem pleased? Oh, I knew you would make a fine impression!”

Jane kept her gaze on her plate, though a flush rose to her cheeks.

Mr. Bennet cleared his throat, putting on pomp.

“Yes. I called on him this afternoon and found him all affability. A more cheerful, open-hearted young man I have rarely seen. He was delighted to receive a neighbour and declared he would call at Longbourn without delay. I assured him we would not close the door in his face, certainly.”

Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled. “How generous of you.”

Mr. Bennet gave a solemn nod. “I do try to practise Christian charity.”

Mr. Collins nodded piously. “Indeed, cousin, it is most commendable to make the acquaintance of our new neighbour so promptly. It shows a proper sense of duty to the community.”

Unable to restrain herself, Mrs. Bennet leaned forward, eyes bright with urgency. “Well? Tell us at once—is he married? He is not, I hope? Oh, say he is not!”

Mr. Bennet lifted his brows, dabbing at his mouth with exaggerated calm. “My dear, restrain your joy. He is indeed a bachelor—very much so, I assure you. No wife tucked away in Yorkshire to spoil your plans.”

Kitty let out a squeal of triumph while Lydia clapped her hands.

Mrs. Bennet all but clapped herself. “A bachelor! I knew it! I said so all along! And young? Handsome? What did you think of him?”

Mr. Bennet tilted his head thoughtfully. “Young, certainly. Good-humoured, lively, eager to be liked. I expect he will succeed in that aim without much effort. He seems very ready to be pleased with everything and everyone.”

Elizabeth’s mouth twitched. “A very forgiving disposition in a neighbour.”

Mrs. Bennet ignored her. “And his fortune? They say four or five thousand a year?”

Mr. Bennet nodded gravely. “That is the rumour. I did not examine his bank books, but he did not appear starving.”

This earned a giggle from Lydia, but Mrs. Bennet would not be distracted. “Well, well! And what else? Did you like him?”

Mr. Bennet allowed himself a small smile. “He is easy to like. Very obliging, very polite. In fact, he asked after us all most civilly and expressed the hope of calling at Longbourn very soon.”

Mrs. Bennet sat back in glowing satisfaction. “He must come soon. I shall be quite put out if he delays!”

“His sister, elder I think, was present,” he said, with mild amusement. “A lady of graceful manners, though I suspect she will find Hertfordshire a trial to her refinements. She spent a good deal of time discussing the deficiencies of the local glazing.”

Elizabeth gave a small laugh. “So she admires our windows only when they are freshly washed?”

Mr. Bennet raised his brows. “A strict critic of glass, my dear. But civil enough. She offered tea, which I accepted with heroic fortitude.”

Lydia snickered behind her napkin. Kitty giggled outright.

Mrs. Bennet pressed on. “But tell us of Mr. Bingley, Mr. Bennet! What did you think?”

He set down his knife with careful precision, as if preparing to deliver a considered verdict.

“I found him exactly as reported: amiable, modest, eager to please. He laughed at my jokes—proof either of excellent breeding or hopeless gullibility. In either case, he seems determined to be liked, and I see no reason anyone should resist obliging him.”

Mr. Bennet turned his gaze deliberately toward Jane, his eyes glinting with teasing warmth.

Jane coloured delicately, but her smile was soft and unguarded. “He sounds...very pleasant indeed.”

“Well, if you have given him your approval, Papa, I suppose we shall all have to be on our very best behaviour when he calls,” Elizabeth said with a playful smile. “We would not want to frighten away the only eligible bachelor in the county.”

She watched her father fondly, her heart-warming at his rare praise.

It was not often he spoke so kindly of a young man, and the fact that he did now filled her with quiet hope.

If even Papa thought well of Mr. Bingley, then perhaps there was truly something promising in him—for Jane’s happiness most of all.

Mrs. Bennet shot her a dark look. “Do not be impertinent, Lizzy. This is no laughing matter.”

Mr. Bennet ignored the interruption, turning to the rest of the table. “I also had the pleasure of meeting his friend, Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire.”

At this, Mrs. Bennet went very still. “Darcy? I do not believe I have heard that name. With my usual luck, he is surely some man over forty, married already, with three children—and therefore of no possible interest whatsoever.”

“No,” Mr. Bennet corrected, with deliberate mildness, enjoying the moment. “Another bachelor, though of a sterner sort.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes narrowed in sudden calculation. “Is he not very rich?”

“Aye,” Mr. Bennet confirmed with a wry tilt of his head.

“Darcy’s driver was very obliging on the matter—ten thousand a year and Pemberley besides.

He has a reputation for sense, and perhaps for pride.

But I found him civil enough once you coax a word or two from him.

Quiet. Observant. Not one for idle flattery. ”

Elizabeth tilted her head, thoughtful. “Did you like him?”

Mr. Bennet tapped his fingers against the table. “I liked him well enough. He seems the sort who chooses his words carefully, which I prefer to endless babble. A serious man, but no fool.”

At this Kitty and Lydia stilled, eyes wide.

Mrs. Bennet sniffed, curiosity piqued despite herself. “Derbyshire? That is a long way to come for a dance! And what sort of man is he?”

Mr. Bennet leaned back, fingers steepled. “Tall. Reserved. Careful with his words. Very polite once one bothers to talk to him properly, but not one to chatter idly. He watched more than he spoke.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes gleamed with calculation. “Ten thousand a year,” she breathed. “Why, he is twice as rich as Mr. Bingley! And if he is Bingley’s friend—he will come to Longbourn, too?”

Mr. Bennet gave her a bland look. “I invited them both, my dear.”

Kitty squeaked in excitement, while Lydia clapped her hands.

Jane’s quiet voice ventured, “He sounds…very reserved.”

Mr. Bennet shrugged. “Reserved, yes. But not unkind. I imagine he will speak when he has something to say.”

Elizabeth smiled slowly. “Perhaps that is no bad trait.”

At this point Mr. Collins, who had been listening with badly concealed impatience, straightened in his chair and cleared his throat portentously.

“If I may, Cousin Bennet,” he began, in his sonorous clergyman’s voice, “I could not help but overhear this discussion of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. While I have not, alas, had the privilege of meeting him myself, I am well acquainted with his consequence. Lady Catherine de Bourgh has often spoken of her nephew with the greatest approbation.”

The daughters exchanged glances, preparing themselves for another of Mr. Collins’s earnest pronouncements, while Mrs. Bennet was all eager attention.