Page 54 of Mr. Darcy's Runaway Bride
This suggestion met with general approval, and soon the party was strolling through Netherfield’s formal gardens. Miss Bingley promptly engaged Darcy in conversation about his cousin. Bingley, meanwhile, walked slightly ahead with Jane, leaving Elizabeth to follow at a discreet distance that afforded the pair some privacy while maintaining propriety.
“They appear well matched,” Darcy observed quietly, having extricated himself from Miss Bingley’s attentions to join his wife. “Bingley speaks of your sister constantly in his letters.”
“And Jane of him,” Elizabeth replied. “Though I confess I am surprised their attachment has progressed so rapidly. Jane is usually cautious in bestowing her affections.”
“As is Bingley, despite appearances to the contrary,” Darcy said. “He has been disappointed before, which has madehim somewhat wary, though his natural optimism generally prevails.”
They watched as Bingley pointed out something in the distance, Jane’s graceful profile turned towards him with interest. Something in the tableau—the sunlight filtering through the trees, the gentle curve of Jane’s smile, the attentive angle of Bingley’s head—suggested a harmony between them that transcended mere polite conversation.
“I believe they may suit remarkably well,” Elizabeth said.
“Indeed,” Darcy agreed. “It would be a fortunate circumstance for all concerned if such a connection were to form.”
Miss Bingley, who had been walking a few paces behind, now joined them with a determined smile. “I see my brother is performing his duties as host with characteristic enthusiasm,” she observed. “He has always had a particular talent for making our guests feel welcome, though I fear his attentions to Miss Bennet may have exceeded what is strictly necessary.”
“Your brother’s manners do him credit,” Darcy replied. “Sincerity is a virtue too often sacrificed on the altar of fashion.”
Miss Bingley’s smile tightened, but she quickly recovered. She soon steered the conversation to questions about how Elizabeth was managing Pemberley—clearly hoping to highlight her inexperience—but Darcy’s firm praise of his wife’s capabilities left little room for further insinuations.
“Mrs Darcy has proven a most capable mistress,” Darcy interjected, his tone brooking no contradiction. “The household has flourished under her direction.”
Miss Bingley’s smile grew strained. “How fortunate for you both. I have always said that Pemberley requires a mistress of particular… background to maintain its standards.”
Before Elizabeth could respond to this thinly veiled slight, Bingley and Jane rejoined them. “The sun grows rather warm,” Bingley observed. “Perhaps we should return to the house for tea?”
They made their way back towards Netherfield, with Bingley and Jane in the lead, followed by Darcy and Elizabeth, with Miss Bingley reluctantly bringing up the rear.
“Your sister seems well,” Darcy said quietly as they walked. “Though perhaps a touch fatigued.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed. “I hope to speak with her privately before she leaves. There is something in her manner that suggests all is not entirely as it should be at Longbourn.”
Tea was served in the drawing room, where conversation turned to the upcoming London Season. Miss Bingley spoke at length of various entertainments she anticipated, directing her remarks primarily to Darcy while making occasional references to “those fortunate enough to move in the highest circles.”
“You must find country society rather limited after London, Mrs Darcy,” she said during a pause in the general conversation. “Though I suppose Derbyshire offers more varied acquaintance than Hertfordshire.”
“I have found pleasant society wherever I have lived,” Elizabeth replied. “Though I confess a particular fondness for the country, where one may come to know one’s neighbours as individuals rather than mere social connections.”
“A charitable view,” Miss Bingley said with a thin smile. “Though I imagine certain acquaintances might be better forgotten than cultivated. I understand Meryton was recently graced with the presence of the militia? Such dashing officers must have enlivened local assemblies considerably.”
There was something pointed in her tone that made Elizabeth glance sharply at her. Could Miss Bingley know of Wickham’s presence in Meryton? And if so, how much did she know of Elizabeth’s acquaintance with him?
“The militia did winter in Meryton,” Jane confirmed, her gentle voice betraying no awareness of any undercurrent. “Though they have since been relocated to Brighton.”
“A pity,” Miss Bingley said, her gaze fixed on Elizabeth. “I understand certain officers made quite an impression on the local young ladies.”
“I believe we have exhausted this topic,” Darcy said. “Bingley, you mentioned new plantings along the south border? I should be interested to see them before dinner.”
“Of course,” Bingley agreed, rising with relief at the change of subject. “The landscaper has made considerable progress since your last visit. Ladies, will you excuse us?”
After the gentlemen departed, Miss Bingley turned her attention to a piece of embroidery, leaving Jane and Elizabeth to converse quietly on the sofa near the window.
“You must tell me of Pemberley,” Jane said, taking Elizabeth’s hand. “Your letters have been informative, but I long to hear more of your life there.”
Elizabeth described the great house, its grounds, and the daily routine she had established. She spoke of her riding lessons, her writing, and the evenings spent in the library with Darcy. Throughout, she was conscious of Miss Bingley’s attention, though the lady appeared absorbed in her needlework.
“And Mr Darcy?” Jane asked. “Is he… is he kind to you, Lizzy?”
“The kindest of men,” Elizabeth replied with perfect sincerity. “I have found in him a true partner and friend.”
