Page 10 of Darcy's Guarded Heart
“Thomas, you are a blessing upon this family, and you know it. Lydia and Kitty will listen to nobody as well as you. Even Mary is more amiable with you than she is with most others.”
“I know it, but I do worry at times. Nights like tonight make me acutely aware that I am not a desirable husband for any of the ladies who are here fretting over the Bingleys and Darcys of this world. I am almost one and twenty now; I must soon settle upon a course for my life. Mr Bennet and I just spoke of it the other day.”
“Oh?” she replied, for she had been unaware of such a conversation. She knew that Thomas had to find a profession that would provide him with a stable income and a respectable position, but so far, he had not settled on anything. The law had been considered, as had trade. In fact, he had gone into London in the summer and worked with Mr Gardiner for several months, but that arrangement had come to an end when Mr Gardiner’s partner had chosen his own nephew for the position intended for Thomas. It had not been said aloud, but the implication had been clear—Thomas hadn’t been suitable, given his upbringing.
“Are you still considering the law?”
Thomas nodded. “I am. It is what I feel I would be most suited for. I enjoy reading and studying, and I know a great deal about estate law thanks to your father, but I am a bastard. Will anyone take me seriously? I suppose I could join the military. Or the militia. They seem to take anyone if Mr Wickham is any indication.”
Mr George Wickham, a member of the militia, had come into town some weeks ago and had caused much upheaval.
“I wish you would not measure yourself against Mr Wickham. He is a scoundrel; we know this. You saw through him before anyone else. You would do well as a barrister or solicitor, I am sure. And Mr Phillips would gladly take you on.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. I must make a decision soon, for if I do not, I shall forever be a burden on your father’s purse, and once he is no more, I shall not be able to assist any of you, as we know what Mr Collins thinks of me.”
Elizabeth wanted to roll her eyes but had, of late, attempted to train herself out of such unladylike habits. Their cousin and heir to Longbourn had always been an insufferable man for as long as Elizabeth could remember, and his visits—which were mercifully rare—always managed to strain her mother’s already fragile nerves further. Her father, likewise, would disappear into his study for hours on end both during and after Mr Collins’s visits, and lamentations about Thomas’s status as ward rather than rightful son could be heard coming from both her parents’ mouths for days after.
Recently, Thomas had taken to calling on friends in Meryton or town when Mr Collins announced a visit, as it was easier for all involved.
“You are no burden, you know it. It is Mr Collins who prevails upon our hospitality time and again, and who stretches our goodwill. Not you. Do not think of what will happen. One day soon, you will find your calling, and you will have a wife and a family, and your beginnings will be behind you.”
Thomas sighed. “I wish it were as simple, Lizzy. Sometimes I wish I knew who my father was. It may make a difference if he were a foreign diplomat of some sort, or an Italian Count, or a Scottish Laird. I may still be a bastard, but one with an interesting twist. As it stands, I shall never know who my father was and shall forever be burdened by that lack of knowledge.”
“Well, you could always move to town and reinvent yourself as such. Thomas Bennet, son of the Viceroy of—”
“If I am to make up a tale, then I might as well claim to be the son of a duke. Let us make it worth the lie. Indeed, as a duke’s bastard son, I would have ladies lining up from here to Netherfield Park wishing to dance with me.”
Elizabeth held out her arm until he offered hers.
“Do not be so dramatic. There are a number of ladies who made eyes at you; I saw it. And I shall show them to you. Come, let us brush aside these dark thoughts of the future, and ill-mannered northern gentlemen and enjoy ourselves while we can.”
Thomas nodded, and together, they re-entered the assembly. Yet, despite her brave words, Elizabeth could not deny that when they entered, her eyes immediately searched for Mr Darcy, for something about that man had vexed her like no other ever had.
Chapter Six
Darcy
“What a lovely night,” Bingley said as their carriage rumbled away from the assembly and back towards Netherfield. “The air is so much fresher in the country than in town. And look, you can see all the stars. There is not a cloud in the sky; the moon is guiding our way.”
Darcy sighed in exasperation, for he knew well what Bingley’s reverie meant. He had seen it before. Bingley had a tendency to become enamoured of a charming young lady, though never so swiftly as now.
“Charles, will you cease?” Caroline said. “I am not inclined to indulge in poetry this evening.”
“Caroline, you seem to have little regard for nature’s beauty,” Bingley said.
“Leave him be,” Mr Hurst said as he crossed his arms and nuzzled into the side of the carriage. “Young Mr Bingley has fallen in love,” he said, eliciting disapproving murmurs from Louisa and Caroline.
“And so what if I have?” Bingley said. “Miss Jane Bennet is beautiful—she is kindness itself, with a tender heart, keen wit, and the grace of true refinement.”
“And you know all this after two dances?” Caroline asked sharply.
“Two dances and an hour-long conversation. Can you not share in my happiness?”
“I think we are concerned. It is never good to give your heart away to someone you barely know,” Darcy warned.
“You are only dubious because you do not care for her brother.”
“He is not her brother,” Darcy said sharply. “The fact that he conceals this from us…”
