Page 2 of The Shades of Pemberley

Darcy regarded his university friend, appreciating the benefits of friendship Bingley had brought to his life.

Reticent as he was, Bingley’s unfettered joviality often affected a loosening of Darcy’s usual gravity.

It was not unlike the effect Elizabeth had on him, though Bingley served another function, that of lightening his mood on those occasions when the ladies were not present.

“Though I do not need to ask,” said Darcy, “you will approach Miss Bennet and any interest in her with the gravity and restraint it deserves, will you not?”

Bingley chuckled again and shook his head.

“It does my heart good to see you so wrapped around the finger of a young woman. Do not concern yourself, Darcy, for I have no intention of any actions toward Miss Bennet that do not lead to a further understanding of her character. I am interested, as I am certain you have already seen. I have no notion of pressing forward before I know her better.”

“Excellent, Bingley,” said Darcy. “That is the best approach, for I have long suspected she would intrigue you.”

“Ah, so now it comes out,” exulted Bingley. “I knew there was some reason for your oft-spoken comments about her.”

“It appears I was correct, given what I witnessed this morning.”

“Perhaps you were,” agreed Bingley. “I thank you regardless of your motivations, for I am eager to know Miss Bennet.

“Furthermore,” continued Bingley with a sly look, “I shall commend you for inviting me to Hertfordshire when my sister is otherwise occupied. It was a master stroke.”

The mention of Bingley’s sister soured Darcy’s mood ever so slightly.

Miss Caroline Bingley was, in the words of several of Darcy’s closest friends, a nocked arrow aimed at the pocketbook of any man of sufficient means and standing to give her the life she thought she deserved.

The daughter of a tradesman—not that Darcy had ever looked down on his friend for the same parentage—she gave herself airs that might make a duchess blush.

“That was the point, Bingley,” said Darcy, certain his friend would not take offense at the characterization, given his previous words on the subject.

“Well do I know it,” replied Bingley. “I shall not sport with your intelligence, for I know you understand her character. Before long, I expect a letter entreating me to ask for an invitation to stay at Netherfield with you.”

“Does she wish to be present for my wedding?” asked Darcy.

Bingley seemed to find the notion hilarious. “Rather, I suspect she wishes to supplant the bride.”

Darcy shook his head. “She may wish, but those wishes have about as much chance of coming to fruition as the proverbial beggars riding. Besides, my mother is the mistress of my estate, and if she does not wish to invite your sister, there is no way I can host her. If she wishes to visit us after the wedding, perhaps Elizabeth and I may accommodate her.”

“That would not be palatable, I should think,” said Bingley. He paused, appearing uncomfortable, before he offered: “I apologize for her behavior in London.”

“As I informed you before, Bingley,” said Darcy, “ you do not need to offer your regrets, and her behavior did not affect me . At the same time, I hope you understand I have no desire to be in your sister’s company again.”

“I do understand,” said Bingley. “And I do not blame you.”

No, Darcy had known his friend would not hold his wish against him and suspected that Bingley little wished to be near his sister himself. The incident to which Bingley referred had not lost the power to infuriate Darcy, nor had the time out of her company lessened his disgust with her.

It had happened during the previous season in London.

Darcy, as ever, had been reluctant to attend, but had gone to uphold his family’s honor and, as Elizabeth’s Uncle Gardiner had pointed out, because it had been an excellent opportunity to introduce Elizabeth to his level of society.

Elizabeth had, of course, stayed with the Gardiners, and Darcy had escorted her to various events, though the Gardiners had attended occasionally, having some familiarity with his circles because of Mr. Gardiner’s business contacts involving some of the gentry.

Miss Bingley was a woman who coveted a position in society to which she had no right to inhabit, in society’s eyes, and for that, certain of the higher set despised her.

In Darcy’s observation, Miss Bingley was not choosy about the exact identity of her future husband, instead preferring to focus on gaining prominence through marriage with a man who fit her notion of the proper husband.

There were many Miss Bingleys in society, a fact that allowed her to spin her webs in relative anonymity, and other than causing her brother occasional mortification, she garnered little notice when compared to her ambitions.

It was fortunate, therefore, that Darcy did not seem to fit her requirements for a husband, being neither wealthy enough nor possessing sufficient prominence for her aspirations.

That did not mean she was insensible to the position he could offer, but she paid much less attention to him than others she wished to capture.

She also knew that Darcy was engaged; Darcy suspected in the end that she would consider that detail a minor obstacle should she ever determine she could do no better in her search for a husband.

It was fortunate, therefore, that Darcy would be married and immune to her scheming in only two weeks.

For Bingley, he had nothing more than pity for the great disadvantage of having such a grasping, scheming, covetous woman for a sister.

In truth, Miss Bingley had been the one obstacle to any introduction between Bingley and Miss Bennet, for Darcy esteemed his future wife’s sister and did not wish her to suffer in a marriage with such a shrew for a close connection.

Bingley had never been a stern man, often influenced by his more forceful sibling.

Darcy would not hide this facet of his friend’s character from his fiancée, and Elizabeth had been cautious about introducing her dearest sister to his closest friend.

But Bingley had proven himself in the time since, taking his sister to task and bringing her under better regulation.

Should Bingley take his interest in Miss Bennet to its natural conclusion, Darcy knew he would put her first and refuse to allow his sister to rule them.

It was that testimony that had swayed Elizabeth into agreeing to their meeting.

“Well, Darcy?” asked Bingley, his seriousness of a moment before gone in favor of his usual joviality. “What shall we do for the rest of the day? While I cannot imagine it will be nearly so agreeable as visiting your neighbors, we must have something with which to occupy ourselves.”

“I am certain we shall manage, Bingley,” said Darcy, noting that Netherfield had appeared through the trees. “For now, let us race to the house.”

So saying, Darcy kicked his horse into a gallop, laughing as Bingley exclaimed his offense, attaining the house before his friend could catch him.

Darcy was of a similar opinion, for he could think of nothing so interesting as being in his fiancée’s company.

But he supposed Bingley had the right of it.

“WELL, JANE, IT APPEARS Mrs. Bingley is everything Mrs. Darcy told us he was!”

The excited comment was no surprise, though Mrs. Bennet had been composed during the gentlemen’s visit. Jane, ever the soul of understatement, nodded her agreement, though the brightness of her eyes told Elizabeth something of her true feelings.

“Mrs. Bingley appears to be everything a young man ought to be.”

“He is! And Mrs. Darcy is so good as to introduce him to you. I cannot but think he did so, knowing you might suit him, for Mrs. Darcy is such an excellent young man himself, always concerning himself for us.”

Mrs. Bennet paused and directed a darker look at Elizabeth. “Though I must say that I am a little vexed, Lizzy, for I know you made Mrs. Bingley’s acquaintance in the spring, yet it is January, and this is the first we have seen of him!”

“You cannot rush these things, Mama,” said Elizabeth, thinking it politic to avoid saying anything about the reservations that had nearly prevented the introduction.

“No, I suppose not,” said Mrs. Bennet. “It does not signify, I suppose, for Mrs. Darcy has proven me correct. I cannot be happier!”

Elizabeth shared a look with her elder sister but avoided releasing the mirth that had built up within her breast. Mrs. Bennet had long coveted the master of Netherfield for her daughters, but she had initially thought that triumph would belong to Jane.

Disappointed though she had been when Mrs. Darcy had shown no interest at all in the eldest sister, her excitement had been the more powerful emotion when he had paid attention to Elizabeth.

While Elizabeth had joined local society at sixteen and had known of Mrs. Darcy’s interest in her almost from the first, the initial steps they had taken to become acquainted had, by design, escaped her mother’s notice.

It was not until Elizabeth turned eighteen that they allowed others to understand their preference for each other’s company.

Mrs. Bennet, the mother of five daughters living on an entailed estate, had existed in a state of almost constant panic, convinced that the heir—a distant cousin with whom they had no association—would throw them from the house the moment her husband died.

That Mrs. Bennet had been convinced her husband would depart this life every day for the past fifteen years was a constant source of vexation for her daughters.

When the wealthiest man in the district paid attention to Elizabeth, her mother had settled a little, knowing she would be secure, though she never lost her propensity for throwing her daughters at gentlemen, hoping they would marry early.

Her comment about being proven correct was a reference to one night at Lucas Lodge when, having sampled too much punch, Mrs. Bennet had crowed to her cronies about her expectation that her future son-in-law would introduce her daughters to all his wealthy friends.

“You cannot rush affection, Mama,” said Jane, drawing Elizabeth from her thoughts. “Remember that I have only made Mrs. Bingley’s acquaintance today.”

“Oh, you may say that, Jane,” said Mrs. Bennet, her hands moving as if to dispel an offensive odor, “but I know how it will be. Mark my words, my dear: there will be another wedding in Meryton not long after your sister’s, for I am certain Mrs. Bingley will wish to join Mrs. Darcy and enter the state of matrimony.

And who could blame him, given the inducement? ”

There was nothing to say about such exuberance, and both sisters knew their mother well enough to apprehend that it was pointless to try.

Mrs. Bennet had the bit in her teeth, and Elizabeth knew from experience that she would not release it until she had her say.

Mrs. Bennet was not completely mortifying in company, for she had settled somewhat with Elizabeth’s triumph.

Her husband, knowing an unrestrained mother might be a detriment to Elizabeth in society, had taken her aside and explained a few matters to her, much to Elizabeth’s relief.

While Mrs. Bennet would never be a proper woman, she at least knew when to be silent now.

After a time of extolling Mrs. Bingley’s virtues, Mrs. Bennet decided her nerves had suffered enough excitement for one day.

She took herself above stairs to rest in her room, leaving her two daughters in the sitting-room together.

Knowing what awaited, Elizabeth avoided the sight of her sister until she heard her mother’s tread on the stairs, breaking out into laughter thereafter.

“Mama is determined, I suppose,” said Elizabeth.

“That she is. I wish she would not speak of such subjects so openly, but at least she restrained herself when Mrs. Bingley was here.”

“I cannot agree more, Jane,” said Elizabeth. She shot a sly look at her sister and added: “William and I knew that Mrs. Bingley would like you very well, indeed. My betrothed informed me of his suspicion before I even made Mrs. Bingley’s acquaintance.”

“Your betrothed is more than a little full of himself,” said Jane. “It is, I believe, a trait common to those who consider themselves clever.”

Elizabeth could not help but laugh at Jane’s comment, which she knew her sister directed toward her, too. “Are you suggesting that I am also proud?”

“How you interpret my comment is your business, Lizzy,” replied Jane.

Elizabeth grinned and put an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “You may be correct about William. Unfortunately for you, I like him very well the way he is.”

“That is no mystery, Lizzy,” replied Jane. “And I give you leave to like him, for I am not bereft of admiration for the gentleman myself.”

“Excellent,” said Elizabeth. “Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I shall take Mama’s example and sequester myself in my room for a time. I should like to rest.”

Jane rose along with Elizabeth. “You only wish to dream of Mrs. Darcy, Lizzy.”

“Perhaps I do,” said Elizabeth. “You can hardly blame me if that is my purpose.”

“No, I cannot, Lizzy,” said Jane, “for it has been clear to me since you were seventeen that you were meant for each other. I cannot be happier with your conquest, for I know how much you esteem him.”

“I do, Jane. And I am sensible of my good fortune.”

When Elizabeth lay down on her bed, she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts full of Mrs. Darcy.

He was the best man of her acquaintance and her future husband.

Elizabeth knew how fortunate she had been to find her path in life with so little difficulty, and she meant to make the most of every moment in his company.