Page 62 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
As they settled into their seats, Mr Gardiner raised his glass. “To young love,” he said with a meaningful glance at the two supposed couples. “May it flourish and bring joy to all concerned.”
Darcy caught Elizabeth’s eye across the table and saw her fighting back a smile at the toast. They drank, and the meal commenced with the easy conversation of people comfortable in each other’s company.
“I understand Parliament is considering new regulations on trade with the Americas,” Mr Gardiner said as the second course was served. “What are your thoughts on the matter, Mr Darcy?”
“The proposed tariffs seem short-sighted,” Darcy replied, cutting his meat with careful precision. “Restricting trade strikes me as counterproductive.”
“Precisely what I have been saying,” Mr Morton agreed. “The government seems intent on protecting certain interests whilst ignoring the broader economic implications.”
“But surely some protection is warranted?” Bingley interjected. “British manufacturers have been undercut by cheaper foreign goods.”
“Competition improves quality and drives innovation,” Elizabeth said, then caught herself as all eyes turned to her. “That is… I merely thought…”
“Elizabeth,” Mrs Bennet said with gentle reproof, “gentlemen do not wish to hear ladies’ opinions on matters of business.”
“On the contrary,” Darcy said, “I find Miss Elizabeth’s observations on economic matters most insightful. Please, continue your thought.”
Elizabeth shot him a grateful look. “I was merely going to say that when manufacturers are forced to compete, they must improve their methods or reduce their costs. Protection from competition often leads to complacency.”
“An excellent point,” Mr Gardiner said with obvious pride in his niece. “I have seen it myself in my own business dealings.”
“Indeed,” Darcy agreed, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth’s animated face. “I have always believed that a young woman who knows her own mind and can express it with such clarity is to be valued, not silenced.”
Mrs Bennet looked flustered at this departure from conventional wisdom, but Mr Morton nodded approvingly.
“Thomas always said Elizabeth had the finest mind of any of his daughters,” he said fondly. “He encouraged her reading on all subjects, not merely those deemed suitable for ladies.”
Throughout this exchange, Darcy noticed Lydia watching him with narrow eyes, occasionally sighing with theatrical emphasis. When he complimented Elizabeth’s intelligence, Lydia’s sigh was particularly pointed.
“Miss Lydia,” he said during a lull in conversation, “you seem rather subdued this evening. I hope you are feeling well?”
“Oh, I am quite well, Mr Darcy,” Lydia replied with sweet venom. “Merely contemplating the curious changes that can occur in people’s circumstances.”
Elizabeth shot her sister a warning look, but Lydia’s attention remained fixed on Darcy with unsettling intensity.
The remainder of the meal passed without incident, though Darcy remained conscious of Lydia’s scrutiny. When the ladies withdrew to allow the gentlemen their port, he hoped Elizabeth would succeed in speaking privately with her sister.
“Our Elizabeth is quite remarkable,” Mr Morton observed once the ladies had departed. “Such intelligence combined with beauty is rare.”
“She is exceptional,” Darcy agreed.
Mr Gardiner raised an eyebrow at his tone but said nothing.
When they rejoined the ladies in the sitting room, Elizabeth approached Darcy with purpose. “Miss Lydia, mightwe speak with you privately? Mr Darcy has something he wishes to say.”
Lydia crossed her arms, her hands curled into fists, but she followed them to a small alcove where they could speak without being overheard.
“Miss Lydia,” Darcy began, “I owe you an apology. I have done your family wrong, particularly regarding Jane and Mr Bingley.”
Lydia’s hostile expression flickered with surprise.
“I allowed my prejudice to cloud my judgement,” Darcy continued. “I convinced Bingley that Jane wanted to charm him to save herself from a marriage to your cousin James. That she felt nothing for him. I was wrong.”
“You hurt Jane terribly,” Lydia said, though her voice lacked its earlier venom.
“I know. And I made amends. I have spoken to Bingley, convinced him of Jane’s genuine feelings. You can see tonight how happy they are together.”
Lydia glanced towards the sitting room where Jane and Bingley sat close together on the sofa, speaking in low, intimate tones.
