Page 49 of Darcy's Guarded Heart
“I do. At least I feel that she does. The way she looks at me, I see tenderness sin her eyes,” Bingley said, though he sounded miserable.
“None of us dispute that she feels tenderness for you, but is it love? Or is it tenderness because you can help her family prosper?” Darcy asked.
“Indeed, Mr Darcy is quite wise on the matter, Charles,” Caroline said with emphasis, smiling at Darcy as though she wished to thank him for finally speaking up.
“You believe that I ought to let her go? Let Netherfield go? All of it?” Bingley asked. His tone was pleading. He wanted someone, anyone, to side with him and tell him Jane Bennet was right for him.
And she may well be. But Darcy also knew there were better matches, and those matches were unencumbered by meddlesome relatives, unfortunate wards, and obligations. No, would do his friend a favour by advising him against her. It might hurt him now, but in due course, he’d see sense.
Darcy was certain.
The room fell silent. Darcy took a deep breath, and after a pause, added, “I do not think that your future lies here in Hertfordshire or with this young woman. I believe it would be in your best interest to relocate to London, where you will have the opportunity to find a more suitable match—someone of equal fortune, who does not require your support.”
“And the Christmas season is about to begin,’ Louisa added. “There will be masquerade balls and dinners, and so much merriment. You will find someone in due course, for there will be no shortages of eligible ladies.”
“Your sister is right, Bingley. This is your chance to find someone who fits you better, an estate which suits you better. Do not squander your future on the first pretty woman you find,” Darcy said.
“I suppose,” Bingley muttered and lowered his gaze to his hands. As he did, doubt rose in Darcy. He saw his friend withdraw into himself, the light in his eyes dimming. The sight pained Darcy more than he cared to admit. He had wounded Bingley deeply, and yet, at the same time, a strange relief settled over him. Once they left Netherfield, there would be no reason to return. The Bennets, including Elizabeth, would be left behind—forever.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Elizabeth
Night had already fallen, and Elizabeth sat outside, her shawl drawn tightly around her shoulders to shield against the creeping chill. Dinner had been an awkward affair. Her mother, whose fiery disdain for Mr Darcy had only deepened with his conduct that very day, had been in a state of great agitation. Lydia and Kitty, ever exuberant, were now inconsolable at the sudden removal of their friend from their midst. The events had transpired with such alarming rapidity.
The dining room had been quiet in a way that was far from peaceful. It had been the kind of silence that filled every corner and sat heavily upon one’s chest. Mrs Bennet had made several sharp comments about ‘arrogant men with no regard for proper civility’, while Kitty had blinked back tears with each mouthful. Lydia, who typically laughed everything off, had been uncharacteristically silent, stabbing her potatoes with the fury of a general betrayed.
Thomas had not joined them for their meal at all, preferring instead to remain in his temporary quarters beneath their roof. No one had questioned it; his absence only compounded the weight pressing down on the evening.
The family had taken their meal swiftly, in silence, seeking to avoid unnecessary discourse. Elizabeth had then excused herself.
But the quiet had not calmed her mind. Between her vexation at Mr Darcy, concern for Thomas, and a growing unease over Georgiana, Elizabeth had yet another anxiety to contend with, Mr Collins. Ever since he had declared his intention to find a wife upon this very visit, she had steeled herself against his awkward attempts at conversation. It was, regrettably, clear to her that she was the object of his matrimonial designs.
Kitty and Lydia were far too youthful and flighty for the tastes of a man such as Mr Collins, and while Mary might have made a most suitable choice—pious, quiet, and unassuming as she was—Mr Collins had scarcely exchanged two words with her since his arrival.
No, Elizabeth was almost certain she was the target of his affections, much to her dismay.
And just as she settled into the welcome quiet of the evening, Mr Collins appeared to disturb it.
“Cousin Elizabeth! Here you are,” he announced, emerging from around the corner with the self-satisfied air of one who believed himself charming. “I was just on a brisk evening walk. Do you not simply adore the evening air? You must, since you’re sitting here.”
“I was enjoying the quiet,” she replied, hoping the subtle hint would not be lost on him. Alas, it was.
“There is nothing more refreshing than a bit of peace and quiet,” he continued. “Do you mind if I join you?”
Before she could object, he seated himself beside her.
“Well, this is splendid, is it not? What do you do out here on your own? I see no book, no embroidery,” he said, looking about with a perplexed expression.
“It is too dark to read or embroider,” Elizabeth said, striving for civility. “So I simply enjoy the stars.”
“Yes, yes, the stars. I do that as well. Sometimes I count them until I grow sleepy.”
Elizabeth wet her lips, barely concealing a sigh. “I don’t count them. I look for constellations—the Big Dipper, Orion’s Belt, and so on.”
“Oh, that is hardly a suitable pastime for a young lady. Leave the sciences to the scholars, I say.”
“I have always had an interest in science,” she replied evenly. “Medicine too. The advancements are fascinating.”
