Page 12 of The Same Noble Line (Darcy and Elizabeth Happily Ever Afters)

E lizabeth sat in the music room with the ladies, the air thick with the hum of conversation.

Her mother and Lady Lucas occupied the most comfortable chairs by the fire, discussing their daughters’ marriages with the competitive nature of seasoned generals recounting their victories. Jane stood beside the pianoforte, turning pages for Mary, who played a symphony with her usual precision, though it lacked any true feeling. Lydia and Maria Lucas were giggling together while Kitty and Miss Darcy listened.

Elizabeth had taken a seat near Charlotte, relieved to find her friend willing to engage in a more serious discussion amidst the din. Charlotte’s calm presence was very welcome, even if the topic of her impending marriage to Mr. Collins was one Elizabeth found difficult to contemplate.

“You must come to Kent, Lizzy,” Charlotte said softly. “You hesitated before, but I hope you will reconsider. Rosings Park is sure to be diverting if nothing else, and I think you would find much amusement in Lady Catherine’s company. My father and Maria will come to me in March, and you might join them.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly, though she did not share her friend’s enthusiasm. “Amusement, perhaps, but I cannot imagine I would find the great lady’s company tolerable for long. Are you absolutely certain you wish to endure it?”

Charlotte’s expression was kind but firm. “I am. Mr. Collins is not the cleverest of men, but he is respectable, and he will give me a home of my own. That is no small thing, Lizzy.”

She hesitated, torn between her own feelings and her desire to support her friend. “You deserve more than respectability, Charlotte. You deserve someone who sees your worth.”

Her friend’s gaze flickered briefly away, as though imagining her betrothed in the room with them. “ I see my worth, Lizzy. That is enough. Please say you will come.”

Elizabeth could not refuse the quiet plea in Charlotte’s eyes. “Very well,” she said softly. “If my father can spare me, I will come to Kent.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte said, her posture relaxing.

Across the room, Mamma’s voice rose in sharp contrast to their quiet exchange. “Of course, Charlotte will be very comfortable with Mr. Collins, but Jane has secured the better match, as anyone with eyes can see. Mr. Bingley is a fine gentleman.”

Lady Lucas sniffed. “A fine gentleman, to be sure, but my Charlotte will be the mistress of Longbourn one day, while Jane—”

“Jane will be mistress of Netherfield!” Mrs. Bennet interrupted, her voice shrill with indignation. “And far sooner than Charlotte will return here.”

Elizabeth stifled a sigh, exchanging a weary glance with Charlotte. This rivalry between their mothers was both predictable and exhausting.

Near the pianoforte, Jane turned another page for Mary, her serene expression firmly in place, though Elizabeth knew she was not as untroubled by the argument as she pretended. Mary’s playing continued, steady and deliberate.

She nodded to Charlotte, and they both rose to join the younger girls.

“Miss Lydia,” Miss Darcy was saying, her tone polite but curious, “you are very fortunate. Longbourn is such a lively place.”

“Oh, it is lively,” Lydia replied, laughing. “Mostly because of me.”

“And Kitty,” Maria added loyally.

“Oh, Kitty is not half as diverting as I am,” Lydia declared.

“Yes I am!” Kitty replied with irritation.

Lydia laughed dismissively. “You are not, Kitty. You are always following me about, hoping to borrow my ribbons or my ideas.”

Kitty’s cheeks flushed pink, and she sat up straighter. “That is not true, Lydia! You are the one who borrows from me, and I am perfectly capable of high spirits without you.”

“Oh?” Lydia arched a brow, her tone both teasing and challenging. “Name one adventure you had without me.”

“I do not need to prove myself to you, Lydia,” Kitty said, her voice high and reedy. “Maria, I am diverting, am I not?”

Maria looked nervously between the two sisters, clearly wishing to avoid taking sides. “I think you are both diverting, in your own ways.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “That is just Maria being polite. Kitty, you are only pleasant when you are not sulking, and right now, you are sulking.”

“I am not sulking!” Kitty shot back, though the quiver in her voice betrayed her frustration.

Elizabeth, who had been listening with growing exasperation, finally spoke. “Lydia.”

Her tone was calm but firm, carrying a warning that silenced the younger girl mid-sentence. Lydia huffed, crossing her arms, but did not argue.

“As you can see, lively also means sisterly disagreements,” Elizabeth said to Miss Darcy with a smile. The girl smiled uncertainly in response.

After a moment of injured silence, Lydia sighed dramatically and turned back to Miss Darcy, her tone far too casual. “Your gown is very fine. Is it from London? I suppose it must be, though it is a shame you do not have a sister to share all your pretty things with.”

Miss Darcy’s composure was returning. “Thank you, Miss Lydia. It is from London, and you are right. Having a sister would be a great comfort, though I think I would prefer to keep my gowns to myself.”

The remark, delivered with perfect poise, caused Elizabeth to stifle a smile. Even Lydia seemed momentarily taken aback before letting out a laugh.

“Well, you would get along with Mary, then,” Lydia said, waving a hand towards her other sister. “She never shares anything.”

“I see great wisdom in that approach,” Miss Darcy said mildly, which encouraged a ripple of quiet laughter through their entire group.

Elizabeth caught Miss Darcy’s eye and nodded ever so slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the young lady’s skill in diffusing the tension. For all her apparent reticence, she was proving herself to be far more capable than Elizabeth had initially assumed. Miss Darcy was like her brother, Elizabeth realized with a shock. Just softer.

“Miss Bennet has such a kind expression,” Georgiana continued. “She favours Mrs. Bennet, does she not?”

Lydia laughed outright, causing Kitty to elbow her. “Oh, Mamma is not Jane’s mother, or Lizzy’s either. She is their Mamma.”

Georgiana blinked, her confusion evident. “I do not understand.”

Kitty glanced at Elizabeth, who nodded. It was no secret. “Papa was married before, to a widow who already had Jane and Lizzy. Mamma is their Mamma, though, and always has been. That is why Lydia says so.”

“Oh, it does not matter,” Lydia interjected, waving her hand dismissively. “Jane and Lizzy are our sisters, and as annoying as they are, I would much rather have them as the eldest than Mary.”

Mary, still playing, lifted her chin and said, “Annoying I may be, Lydia, but at least I can play the pianoforte with more skill than enthusiasm.”

Lydia rolled her eyes but seemed unbothered. “That is not saying much, Mary.”

Miss Darcy’s interest was undiminished. “And has Longbourn always been your home?”

“Oh yes,” Kitty said. “We have lived here forever.”

“Mamma says Grandfather Bennet was from Yorkshire,” Lydia added.

Elizabeth could not resist correcting her. “No, Grandpapa Bennet lived in the very northern tip of Warwickshire. Do you not recall? He always said he lived where nearly four counties touched. Warwickshire, Leicestershire, Staffordshire, and . . .” She trailed off, searching her memory.

Miss Darcy, her voice soft but certain, finished the thought. “Derbyshire.”

The girls fell briefly silent as all eyes turned to Miss Darcy.

Elizabeth recovered first. “Why, yes, that is correct. Derbyshire. You are quite knowledgeable of geography, Miss Darcy.”

Miss Darcy’s cheeks coloured faintly, but her expression remained composed. “It is my home county. Pemberley is in Derbyshire.”

“Aunt Gardiner is from Derbyshire too,” Kitty exclaimed.

Lydia, ever bold, leaned forward. “And is Pemberley very grand, Miss Darcy?”

The girl smiled, her quiet manner giving way to an unaffected warmth. “It is very beautiful, though of course I am biased. The house itself is large, with fine rooms and views of the surrounding countryside, but what makes Pemberley truly special is its land. The hills, the woods, the river—it is all so peaceful.”

It sounded wonderful.

“Peaceful?” Lydia repeated, wrinkling her nose. “That sounds boring.”

Elizabeth would have groaned had it not been impolite. “ Lydia .”

Miss Darcy, unperturbed, continued with a faint smile. “It is lively in its own way. The seasons bring constant change, and there are always people at work—on the land, in the house. The estate feels alive, even when it is quiet.”

Maria asked hesitantly, “And do you spend much of your time there, Miss Darcy?”

“Before my father died, I lived at Pemberley,” Miss Darcy replied softly. “And my aunt the countess still takes me to visit in the summer. It is more than just my home, you see. It is my family’s work. Every part of it bears the care and attention of my father and now my brother. The way he manages the land, how he looks after the tenants and workers, it is all a reflection of who he is.” She blushed but finished with a stout, “The best brother I could hope for, and the best man I know.”

Elizabeth had heard this praise for Mr. Darcy before. He was fortunate indeed to have such a sister. “Your brother must be very proud of it.”

“He is,” Miss Darcy assured her. “But it is more than pride. Pemberley, with all its careful planning and management . . . it is him .” She smiled, perhaps at her whimsical statement, but Elizabeth was intrigued by it.

Kitty, who had been following with unusual interest, piped up, “Do you not ever feel lonely when you are there, Miss Darcy? Living in such a distant place?”

Miss Darcy hesitated, her eyes softening. “Sometimes. But Pemberley always feels like home. And my brother ensures I am never without company when I require it.”

Elizabeth watched Miss Darcy carefully. Unlike Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy evidently did not openly discuss his duties; he simply set about doing them.

Lydia broke through Elizabeth’s moment of contemplation. “Well, I should think a place like that would need a great many parties to keep it interesting.”

Miss Darcy laughed softly. “I am sure you would, Miss Lydia. Perhaps one day, you shall visit and bring some of your liveliness to Pemberley.” She leaned in towards the younger girls. “We have an enormous ballroom. You could convince my brother to make use of it.”

Elizabeth smiled, catching the subtle humour in Miss Darcy’s tone. “Perhaps,” she said lightly, “though I suspect you enjoy Pemberley’s peace more than you let on.”

Miss Darcy met Elizabeth’s eyes with a shy but genuine smile. “Perhaps I do. But I also think Pemberley could use a little more laughter now and then.”

Before the conversation could continue, Mamma, who had evidently been following the discussion with one ear while still managing to spar with Lady Lucas, interjected. “Ah, laughter is all very well, Miss Darcy, but a house like Pemberley must have more than laughter to sustain it. I am sure your brother knows the importance of planning for the future. That is where my husband’s father went wrong.”

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed slightly. “Mamma, Grandpapa Bennet always ensured Longbourn was well cared for. What do you mean?”

“Well cared for, perhaps,” Mrs. Bennet said with a huff, “but he was too quick to leave opportunities behind. He was a curate in Warwickshire before he inherited Longbourn, and he had been awarded a very promising living near Newton Regis. But when your grandpapa was called back to Hertfordshire, he promoted another man for the living and allowed that opportunity to slip away.”

“But Mamma,” Mary said, “If Grandpapa Bennet was never to return to Warwickshire, of course he would leave the living to another man. He would wish to see his flock well-tended and the man actually performing the work rewarded for it.”

Mrs. Bennet waved a hand dramatically. “Oh, but Mary, he need not have done so. He might very well have hired a curate from his own funds, had he but taken advantage! The income from that living could have been a great benefit to you girls. I told Mr. Bennet as much when we married, but he was certain his father had done right.” She turned back to Lady Lucas. “Men are always so short-sighted in these matters.”

Charlotte spoke up at last. “It is true that any additional income can make a great difference in the upkeep of an estate.”

Elizabeth turned to face her friend, who shrugged slightly. “Your mother is not wrong. It is legal to hold more than one living, after all, even if one is not in residence.”

She was already thinking about such things. Elizabeth had not realized that Charlotte was ambitious, but of course, she would be now, for it was a wife’s duty to support her husband’s advancement. Under Charlotte’s management, she thought wryly, Mr. Collins might one day make bishop. Elizabeth still loved her friend but could not deny that their differences were revealing themselves as rather significant.

“Exactly, Charlotte!” Mamma exclaimed, as though her point had been proven. “Mr. Collins understands the value of securing a good living, and I am sure he will ensure Longbourn prospers when it is his turn. No giving up the living at Hunsford when he comes north.” Her face paled as she registered what she had said.

“Mr. Bennet is hale and healthy,” Charlotte replied gently. “We do not look to return to Hertfordshire for many years.”

Elizabeth leaned closer to Miss Darcy and said in a low voice, “My mother has a talent for finding the most surprising ways to connect one thought to another. You will soon become accustomed to it if you visit again.”

Miss Darcy’s lips twitched into a smile. “I am only surprised, Miss Elizabeth. Your family is refreshingly open.”

She doubted Miss Darcy entirely believed her own words, but it was kind of her to say so. The young lady continued to display remarkable composure as Mamma, her opinions now roused, continued to expound on her views of estate management, marriage, and men in general.

Finally, Lady Lucas suggested a round of cards. Miss Darcy’s mouth formed a little circle of surprise that a guest would suggest the entertainments, but the Lucases were more like family, in fact would be family by marriage in less than a fortnight. The ladies agreed, rising amidst the rustle of skirts and the soft hum of shifting conversation. Elizabeth moved to help rearrange the chairs and ask for the card tables with Jane and Mary, her gaze catching Miss Darcy’s in the process. There was a quiet watchfulness there, not unlike her brother’s, as though she were carefully absorbing everything around her.

Her gaze lingered on the younger woman for just a moment longer before they joined the others. Elizabeth liked Miss Darcy. She liked her very well indeed.

The card game proved an excellent diversion. They settled on commerce, a game simple enough to include even Kitty and Maria, who did not play well, yet strategic enough to spark a rousing competition.

Miss Darcy sat demurely at the table, her sharp focus contrasting with Lydia’s exuberant exclamations and Lady Lucas’s animated commentary. But as the hands progressed, it became clear that Miss Darcy possessed a clever mind. More than once, she outmanoeuvred her opponents with a soft smile and a quiet remark about good fortune.

Elizabeth, seated across from her, could not help but admire the younger woman’s composure. In the girl’s deft play, she saw the same quiet decisiveness she had begun to associate with her brother.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps in the hall signalled the return of the gentlemen, and the music room quickly filled with renewed energy. As the men entered and declined to play, the card tables were put away, the conversation turned to lighter subjects, and the group settled into a lively rhythm once more. But Elizabeth, now seated near the fire with Charlotte and Jane as Mary played and Miss Darcy turned her pages, mulled over what had been discussed earlier and could not shake the sense that Miss Darcy had been seeking something. Her questions lingered in Elizabeth’s mind, and as she glanced across the room at Mr. Darcy, she found herself wondering what answers the young lady sought—and why.