Page 6 of The Same Noble Line (Darcy and Elizabeth Happily Ever Afters)

E lizabeth sat in the parlour, a faint smile on her lips as she watched Jane and Mr. Bingley speak softly in the corner. Perhaps Jane would have the happiness she deserved after all. Elizabeth had begun to believe it would not happen. She had never been so pleased to be wrong.

Yet, as was so often the case at Longbourn, the pleasant scene did not last. Her mother soon fluttered across the room and settled herself beside the couple.

“Oh, Mr. Bingley,” she exclaimed, clasping her hands with unconcealed delight. “To think, with Netherfield so near, you and Jane could—” She hesitated, but her tone dripped with implications, her eyes gleaming with visions of a grand future.

Elizabeth caught Jane’s eye and could see the horror, quickly masked, in her sister’s expression. She moved quickly, rising and pulling her mother aside before Mrs. Bennet’s imaginings grew more extravagant.

“Perhaps we should allow Jane and Mr. Bingley to enjoy their conversation, Mamma,” Elizabeth said gently, steering her mother toward the window. She lowered her voice a bit. “There is no need to interrupt the brief time they have together.”

“I was only dreaming a little for her, Lizzy.” Mrs. Bennet sighed, the pinched, shrill part of her voice softening. “Jane deserves everything that is good.” Elizabeth refrained from replying but cast a protective look back toward her sister before settling her mother in another chair next to Kitty and Lydia. Mary was seated in the corner behind them, copying over some music from the circulating library.

Elizabeth was about to return to her own seat when she noticed Miss Darcy was now alone, looking thoughtfully out the window. Kitty and Lydia had been speaking with her, but apparently her novelty had worn off. Miss Darcy seemed to be observing the scene outside with a calm reserve, her hands folded in her lap. Elizabeth felt some irritation with her younger sisters and a pang of sympathy for Miss Darcy; how lonely it must be, she thought, to navigate social gatherings without her brother’s presence. Elizabeth took the seat beside her. Miss Darcy turned and offered a tentative smile.

“You appear deep in thought, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said with a smile of her own. “I hope these are happy reflections?”

Miss Darcy hesitated, her expression pensive. “I was thinking of something I saw recently in London. It was a charity event I attended with my aunt, Lady Matlock. The ladies were collecting donations to aid those . . . Well, those who have found themselves in terrible circumstances. They have so little, and the winter has come so quickly.” She lowered her gaze, seeming uncertain. “It struck me, quite forcibly, how little I have understood the world outside the confines of my small family circle.”

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. “This is a serious matter to be contemplating.”

The girl blushed. “Forgive me, I have no desire to be rude.”

“I did not say you were rude, nor did I even consider such a thing,” Elizabeth assured her. “And I could never fault anyone for such ruminations, or I would have to admit to my own deficiencies. I cannot say I have thought a great deal about the world beyond the vast empire of Meryton.” This was not entirely true, for she helped Aunt Gardiner with charitable work in London when she visited, but this she had not been asked to do until she was eighteen. It had been an enlightening experience, and as a result, she had engaged herself more in charitable works in places nearer to home.

Miss Darcy nodded. “Anders, my brother’s coachman, is the son of a man who returned to England with the British after the war with the colonies. He had been a slave and arrived with nothing. A charity that supports freedmen and women loaned him twenty pounds to make a beginning here. From that little bit of money, he found lodgings, clothing, food—and he began to work in a brewery to repay the debt and to invest as much as he could spare. After five years, the owner wished to retire, and he purchased the brewery himself.” Miss Darcy shook her head. “It is so admirable. From his profits, he was able to purchase the freedom of two of his brothers. They all shared a house in Lambeth before they married and had families. There are so many people in the Anders family now!” She smiled at Elizabeth. “When my brother learned about the charity, he felt it his duty to contribute. He hopes to be of aid to the next Mr. Anders, you see.”

Miss Darcy spoke of twenty pounds as though it was a trifling amount, which told Elizabeth more than anything else how wealthy she must be. But what Mr. Anders had done with what was given to him was impressive. From that initial loan and his own hard work, he now owned a successful business, had saved his brothers, and built a large family. It was praiseworthy—and so was Mr. Darcy’s determination to be of aid. “That is most generous of your brother,” she said earnestly. “And how wise of him to see that a man’s origins need not define his entire life.” How different this was to his behaviour on his previous visit.

“Yes,” Miss Darcy replied, her voice growing more confident. “I have long admired how quietly my brother does such things. He may seem reserved, but he is always so aware . So careful to do what is right, even to his own detriment.”

This was quite a declaration. Of course his sister would speak well of him, but there was something so genuine in her assessment of Mr. Darcy’s character that Elizabeth’s heart thawed ever so slightly. She had not thought him capable of such steady, unspoken compassion for other people, but oddly, she found the idea entirely believable. “I find myself in agreement with your brother, Miss Darcy,” she said gently. “True compassion is often silent. The greatest kindnesses are rarely done for recognition, and I say they are the more valuable for it.”

Miss Darcy leaned forward, ready to say something in response, when Kitty and Lydia dragged their chairs over and nearly threw themselves into them. Elizabeth glanced at her mother who, at least for now, seemed content to embroider and watch Jane charm Mr. Bingley.

“You are not planning to keep Miss Darcy all to yourself, are you, Lizzy?” Lydia complained.

Not five minutes past, Lydia had left Miss Darcy alone, content to speak only to Kitty, but true to form, she was jealous of any attention not being paid to her.

Kitty nodded vigorously. “Miss Darcy, you must tell us all about London! Have you been on any calls? Have you danced with anyone handsome?”

Miss Darcy blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly as she took in the younger Bennet sisters' eager expressions. She glanced uncertainly at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth shook her head. They were both ungoverned and improper, but she tried to make the best of it. “You will have to forgive Kitty and Lydia, Miss Darcy. Their curiosity is endless, and their patience, shall we say, somewhat less so.”

Lydia laughed, unabashed. “Patience is for people who do not mind waiting, and I have never been one of those! Now, Miss Darcy, do tell us, is London as grand as they say?”

Miss Darcy glanced from Lydia to Kitty, a polite smile forming as she regained her composure. “I suppose it is, in its own way,” she replied cautiously. “As I am not yet out, I fear I cannot describe any balls for you. I shall only be allowed to attend for the first time next season, and even then, I shall only dance with family and only until supper is served.”

This struck Kitty and Lydia as unfair, but Miss Darcy shook her head and confessed she did not mind. Undaunted, the youngest Bennets launched into more questions about London, asking to hear whatever Miss Darcy could tell them of the theatre, the museums, the menagerie, and anything else she could think of, and it was clear she was pleased to have such a rapt audience.

As Miss Darcy continued speaking, Mamma, who had been alternately casting approving glances between Lydia on one side of the room and Jane speaking to Mr. Bingley on the other, suddenly took an interest in the conversation between her younger daughters and Mr. Darcy’s sister. She bustled over, her eyes bright with anticipation.

“Oh, Miss Darcy,” she said conspiratorially as she sat on the settee, “you must be terribly excited for your first season! Why, I remember when I was a girl and attended my first assembly. Such a thrill!”

Thankfully, the door opened at that moment, and Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam returned. Mr. Darcy’s gaze immediately sought Elizabeth’s, and for a moment, she was caught by the intense emotion she saw there. She looked away quickly and exchanged a tentative glance with Miss Darcy, who wore the slightest of smiles.

Next to her, Mamma chatted on, oblivious to anyone else around her. “And think of all the fine gentlemen you will meet! I should think it would be a mother’s greatest joy to see her daughters so well settled.” She narrowed her eyes at Elizabeth, but fortunately did not speak, for which Elizabeth was grateful. She had refused an offer a month past from Mr. Collins, the foolish heir to Longbourn, and Mamma had not yet forgiven her.

The door opened, and her father entered, followed by Uncle and Aunt Gardiner. Mr. Bennet’s expression was his usual mixture of amusement and detachment, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that Elizabeth recognized—his interest had been piqued. Uncle Gardiner carried himself with quiet authority, his gaze briefly sweeping the room.

Aunt Gardiner was also surveying the room, at least until her eyes landed on Elizabeth. “Lizzy, my dear, might I trouble you for a chair? I believe I shall need fortification before the evening is through.”

Elizabeth rose and gave her aunt her chair. Then she rang for more hot water. As she did, Papa moved toward the corner where Jane and Mr. Bingley were sitting. He paused near the fire, glancing at Mr. Bingley’s animated expression before shifting his attention to Mr. Darcy, who stood near the window his sister had been gazing out of, though he faced the room and quietly observed those within.

Mr. Darcy, for his part, seemed unaware of her father’s scrutiny. His posture was rigid, but his gaze alighted briefly on Elizabeth before flicking to Miss Darcy, who was still good-naturedly answering Lydia and Kitty’s endless questions about London. Colonel Fitzwilliam stood nearby, his arms crossed, and his lips turned slightly up in unmistakable amusement.

Uncle Gardiner approached Mr. Darcy and the colonel. “Gentlemen,” he said with a slight bow of his head, “I trust my brother Bennet has been keeping you entertained?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam responded with a lopsided smile. “Indeed, sir. Your brother is a most diverting conversationalist.”

Her father, still by the fire, snorted softly. “Diverting, is it? I shall take that as a compliment, Colonel, though I suspect you mean it in the mildest sense of the word.”

Uncle Gardiner smiled and turned to Mr. Darcy. “My wife has told me something of your family and Pemberley. I must confess, it is rare to have visitors of your distinction here in Hertfordshire. Have you found your stay agreeable?”

Something in Mr. Darcy's severe countenance shifted at the mention of his estate, a softening around the eyes that might have gone unnoticed by a less careful observer. “Pemberley is indeed rather different from these parts,” he acknowledged, then added with unexpected warmth, “though Hertfordshire possesses its own particular charm.”

“Charm?” Papa's eyebrows rose, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “That is not a word I often hear applied to our humble corner of the county, sir. You are too generous by half.”

Mr. Darcy remained silent. It was Colonel Fitzwilliam who broke the moment with a light laugh. “Your modesty does you credit, sir,” he said, in tones that rang a touch too polished to Elizabeth's ear.

Her father's shrewd gaze sharpened as it moved to the colonel, then returned to Mr. Darcy. “And yet I find myself wondering, gentlemen, whether such provincial charm can truly compensate for the rather boisterous nature of my household?”

Mr. Darcy considered this question for a moment before replying. “A lively household, sir, speaks to a family rich in spirit,” he replied gravely. “There is much to be valued in such vitality.”

As Elizabeth settled into her seat beside Aunt Gardiner, she felt heat rise to her cheeks. Unlike the colonel's practiced pleasantries, there was something in Mr. Darcy's earnest response that she could not easily dismiss. Yet how to reconcile this man, who spoke so warmly of her family's vivacity, with the proud, dismissive figure she thought she had known? The contradiction left her both unsettled and intrigued.

Aunt Gardiner, ever perceptive, leaned closer to Elizabeth. “He is so careful,” she murmured. “It must be exhausting, for he seems to weigh every word and action.”

Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy, who was now speaking quietly with Uncle Gardiner. “He does,” she replied softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “But to what end?”

Her aunt gave her a knowing look. “I suppose you shall have to find it out yourself.”

Before Elizabeth could respond, Aunt Gardiner rose smoothly and approached Mrs. Bennet, who was once again watching Jane and Mr. Bingley with undisguised delight. “Fanny,” Aunt Gardiner said warmly, “might I have a word about your New Year’s preparations? I am certain you have planned a most impressive feast, and I should like to hear all about it.”

Mrs. Bennet beamed at the attention. Elizabeth realized that her aunt meant for Mamma to exchange places with her and stood. She sent a grateful glance toward her aunt, appreciating her skill in arranging a room to her liking, and wandered back towards Jane.

Another spirited half an hour passed in convivial conversation, but at last, Colonel Fitzwilliam approached Mamma.

“Mrs. Bennet,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said with a polite nod, “I fear we have overstayed our welcome.”

Before anyone could respond, he turned to where Mr. Bingley and Jane were still engrossed in quiet conversation in the corner. “Bingley, my good man,” he called with mock severity, “you may hold Miss Bennet’s attention as long as you wish at another time, but for today we must leave these good people in peace!”

Bingley flushed and stood slowly. Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands dramatically, smiling with unconcealed delight at Mr. Bingley’s reluctant agreement.

“Such a lovely visit,” Mrs. Bennet gushed, her eyes darting between Jane and Mr. Bingley. “You must come again very soon, Mr. Bingley. And you as well, Miss Darcy, gentlemen!”

The good colonel appeared a bit surprised by this direct application, but Mr. Darcy was unperturbed. He nodded graciously and then held out his arm for his sister.

The Netherfield party made their farewells, and Mr. Darcy gave the Gardiners a courteous nod before following his cousin to the door. Elizabeth watched him go, feeling an odd sort of confusion that lingered even as the door closed behind them.

It was not long before they could see the carriage rolling away. A good thing too, for as everyone but Mary watched the departure through the window, Mamma could not help but exclaim loudly. “Dear Jane! Did I not tell you how it would be?”

After that, everyone else wandered off to other parts of the house. Mamma took her nerves and the younger girls to her sitting room, Mary left for the music room, and Papa wandered back to his book room. When they had all gone, Uncle and Aunt Gardiner turned their attention to Jane and Elizabeth.

Aunt Gardiner reached for Jane’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Well, my dear, you must tell us how you find Mr. Bingley. He seems quite attentive, and I daresay he looked very well pleased to visit and converse with you.”

Jane blushed prettily, her gaze dropping to her lap as she replied. “Mr. Bingley is all that is kind and amiable. I find him very agreeable.”

“And you, Lizzy,” Mr. Gardiner interjected with a teasing smile, “do my eyes deceive me, or has Mr. Darcy grown more civil in his manners?”

Elizabeth tilted her head, feigning nonchalance. “He is certainly more civil than before, but that is hardly a great achievement, given how poorly he began.”

Mrs. Gardiner chuckled softly, rising to her feet. “I should like to hear more about it, but for now, I think we had best retire. I am in need of some rest before dinner.”

After Jane followed them upstairs to her bedchamber, no doubt seeking a little privacy to reflect upon Mr. Bingley’s visit, Elizabeth returned to her father’s study. She was curious about why Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had wished a private conversation with her father. She knocked gently and entered, finding her father seated at his desk, a wry expression on his face as he set down his book with a heavy sigh.

“Papa,” she asked directly, suspecting that his patience was nearly worn out. “What did Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam want?”

Mr. Bennet raised a brow, his mouth twitching in amusement. “You are just like your father, God rest his soul. Why would you be interested in such a matter?”

Elizabeth flushed slightly, though she did not drop her gaze. “I merely wondered what they could find so compelling. They hardly seem the sort to drop in for idle conversation.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “You know, Lizzy, I suspect they were hoping to find that we had illustrious connections somewhere.”

“Why would that matter?” she asked but answered herself. “Oh, they were asking on behalf of their friend.” Elizabeth shook her head, amused despite herself. “Yes, I can see how that might disappoint Mr. Darcy. But Mr. Bingley is as enamoured of Jane as ever. I do not think there is much he can do now, other than manage his disappointment.”

Mr. Bennet looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, but then simply tapped his book to signal that their exchange had come to a close. As she pondered on her conclusions, Elizabeth felt oddly reassured that she had not been entirely wrong in her judgement. For all his charitable exertions, Mr. Darcy was still Mr. Darcy.