Page 8 of Darcy's Guarded Heart
“Of course. One thing a lady must be accomplished in is the art of gathering information that will aid her and those dear to her, Mr Darcy. And I am rather an expert. You see, these townsfolk want nothing more than to impress those above them in station, and they will gladly share information to accomplish that feat.”
Darcy wetted his lips while watching Caroline carefully. He did not wish to be indebted to her, but at the same time, he wanted to know as much as he could about this imposter and his family.
“Well, do not keep me in suspense. What have you found out?”
Caroline smiled at him rather like the cat who had got the cream and stepped a little closer, as though they were involved in a confederacy of two. “Well, I spoke to a young woman named Maria Lucas, daughter of Sir William. The only person of any real consequence in Meryton, I should say—and she told me that Mr Thomas Bennet shares a name with the family because he is a distant relation of Mr Bennet. It seems a cousin of his got herselfinto trouble and had him out of wedlock. Mr Bennet saw fit to take the poor lad in and raise him as a ward.”
“How unsavoury,” Darcy said, glancing out over the dancefloor, where Bingley was still engaged in the English Country Dance with Jane Bennet. The family had already not struck him as terribly suitable, what with the mother lacking any decorum, but they had now slipped further in his estimation.
“I daresay it is. He has, by all accounts, been raised as a member of the family, but he is not the heir to Longbourn by any means. In fact, the family has no local heir, as there are only daughters.” She dropped her voice. “And the estate is entailed away from them.”
“Perdition,” Darcy gasped. So that was probably why the young Mr Bennet had attempted to advertise his so-called sisters to him and Bingley. They needed rich husbands to secure the daughters’ futures.
“And who stands to inherit the estate? Was Miss Lucas able to tell you that?”
“She could not, but Mrs Morton, who happens to be the sister-in-law of Mrs Bennet, told me that it is entailed to a fellow in Kent by the name of Mr Collins—you may be familiar with him; he is the vicar at Rosings Park.”
“Collins?” Darcy exclaimed, for he knew the name well. He had met his aunt’s insufferable vicar more than once. “My word. Collins. I recall hearing about an attempt that was made to break an entailment of which he was the beneficiary some years ago, but it failed because—” He narrowed his eyes, as this sometimes helped him think, but he could not recall it.
“Because the party looking to break the entailment did not have enough funds to offer,” Caroline said triumphantly. “Mrs Morton was rather forthcoming with the information.”
“Can we be certain the information is accurate? It seems rather unkind to be sharing such damaging details with a third party.”
“It seems there is bad blood between Mrs Morton and Mrs Bennet. You see, Mrs Morton’s brother, Mr Phillips, is married to Mrs Bennet’s sister, and according to Mrs Morton, both Mrs Bennet and Mrs Phillips are insufferable, having caused a rift.”
Darcy shook his head. It spoke of ill-breeding to share family secrets in such a way, although he ought not to have been surprised. “So, Mr Bennet has a wanton cousin, and Mrs Bennet’s relation is a prattler. It does not speak highly of them in the least.”
“Not at all. And their financial standing, as well as their breeding, is to be called into question also. Mrs Bennet is from a family of solicitors, but none of them rose higher than your average village practitioner, if that. Mr Darcy, I do not wish to speak ill of anyone, but I also am not one to keep my opinion to myself when I feel it necessary to share it. I worry for my brother.”
Darcy looked at Bingley, who had just stopped dancing with Miss Bennet and was now engaged in deep conversation with her and Thomas Bennet.
“You fear he will allow Miss Bennet’s pretty countenance and charm to ensnare him?” he asked, and Caroline nodded, eyes narrowing.
“You know him as well as I do. We must warn your brother. All the world is good in his eyes. He is blind to the nonsense of others. Especially when that nonsense is uttered by a pretty face.”
“We must keep an eye on him, certainly. If he seems to act foolishly, we shall have a word.”
Darcy pressed his lips together as the music filled the room. He knew Caroline was correct. It seemed all too obvious now. Their chance encounter with Thomas Bennet and his subsequent praise of his sisters, the way they had been tangled in conversation with them almost at once upon arrival, and now the way Miss Bennet looked at Bingley as though he were by far the most interesting person in the entire world.
He wanted to believe the young woman’s interest in him was genuine, but he could not deny that he suspected otherwise. Given the revelations now—the entailment, the family’s poor standing—it stood to reason that she was after more than just a few dances.
And if they did not intercede soon, Bingley might lose both his head and his heart entirely. As a friend, Darcy could not—would not—allow this to happen.
No, Bingley had to be stopped before he made an utter fool of himself. And he was the man to do it. The question was, how?
As he considered this, he rubbed his chin. Suddenly his eyes caught sight of a rather concerning development. Standing there in the corner, her gaze fixed on him in a rather penetrating stare was none other than Elizabeth Bennet—and it was clear she had heard every word they’d said.
Chapter Five
Elizabeth
Elizabeth was fuming inside. How dare this haughty man speak of her sister as though she were a calculating wench looking to snare a husband? Jane was good and kind, and while it was true she needed a husband, the same could be said of any young lady.
That didn’t make her calculating or wrong. It was Mr Darcy and that horrid Miss Bingley who evidently thought the worst of everyone. How dare her second cousin, Mrs Melinda Morton speak of family business to strangers? It was true, the Bennets and Mortons were not close and avoided one another whenever possible, but to speak so ill of her mother, it was unconscionable.
She threw open the door and stepped outside, shaking her head as the warm air hit her face.
“You look positively enraged, Lizzy,” Thomas said from the darkness and stepped out as he finished a glass of what likely contained brandy—his preferred beverage.
