Thank you for pointing out the snag with the ownership of a second house. I am going to consult with a few other authors regarding the finances of the story and revise to suit. It did not originally occur to me because I was focused on the relationship. Will update soon!
The wheels of a carriage crunched on gravel. Elizabeth set her basket down, walking around the corner of the house to see whom the caller might be. A coach pulled to a stop and the door opened, a handsome gentleman descending then turning to offer a lady his arm.
The lady emerging was Jane. Elizabeth ran forward as she saw the gentleman assist her in walking, for Jane seemed to favor her right ankle.
"Jane! Have you been injured?" Her sister's drawn expression must be attributed to the pain. "Thank you, sir, for you must have offered her your assistance home."
The man, finely dressed in a pale blue waistcoat and with an open expression, handed Jane over with a bow.
"I am Charles Bingley, recently come to Netherfield."
She tried to bob a curtsy, Jane's arm around her shoulders. "I am Elizabeth Bennet, sir." She glanced in the carriage. Though they did not speak, she saw the lower half of a gown and the black-clad legs of another man. Secret relief caused her smile. Jane had not been brought home by a single gentleman.
"Indeed! I am very pleased to make your acquaintance." He glanced back in the carriage as the man inside moved, emerging into the light. "I am told you are already acquainted with my party."
Elizabeth might have aped her mother and fainted if she did not have an injured sister to care for.
"Charles will help Jane into the house," William said brusquely, meeting her eyes in one long, piercing moment. "You and I must talk."
"Darcy, really," the lady inside the carriage began.
William scowled at her, then turned back to Elizabeth, eyebrows raised. "Elizabeth—Miss Bennet?"
"Forgive me," Elizabeth said, voice steely with restraint, grateful for that lady's interruption. It had given her the moment she needed to regain her breath. "I believe I can manage Jane quite well, and I would not want to take up any of the lady's time, you have already been gracious in bringing my sister home safely." William ignored her, gaze cool and steady. Her jaw set as she smiled. "My father has not called on Mr. Bingley, it would be highly unusual to make his acquaintance without all the usual formalities, sir."
"Yes, yes, of course!" the man in question exclaimed. "I look forward to Mr. Bennet's call." He glanced at Jane and smiled warmly, taking her hand and bending over it. "I am delighted to have been of service to you, Miss Bennet. I am sure we shall see each other again soon."
Jane murmured something noncommittal in her soft voice, her marked lack of enthusiasm plain to Lizzy thought she supposed the gentleman might just think her shy.
"Miss Bennet," William said. "If we do not speak now, we will certainly speak later."
For a blinding second, she hated him. It was the same chilly, intractable tone he had used on her in the days before her family had left Derbyshire. "What could we possibly have to speak about?"
"I know George is here as well," he replied, eyes hard. "Have you seen him?"
"That is none of your concern."
His voice was gentle, though the softness did nothing to conceal the steel beneath. "It is my concern. George is my brother."
Pain speared her heart. She had thought he would not be able to hurt her anymore if they were ever to meet again. "Your brother is safe from me."
"I am not worried about George, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth noticed Mr. Bingley's puzzled glance between them and felt her cheeks color. What an undignified discussion to be having in front of strangers. She glared at William. "If you will excuse me, sir. I am certain you have much better ways to spend your time than in conversing with a foolish girl."
As she and Jane turned, he said, "We will speak, Elizabeth."
She both yearned, and dreaded, the coming conversation.
The universe was unkind. She had dearly wished for news of him, but the unexpected sight of a tall, stern William Darcy emerging from a coach proved that the fantasy was far from the reality. What had she expected? A warm, heartfelt reunion? Apologies and protestations of undying friendship. . .love? She certainly had not expected her own surge of anger, though the hurt was familiar. Instead of grasping her chance to speak to him and settle the strange tension in the air, she had used her sharp tongue as a shield. Perhaps she was not ready to ask for forgiveness, or to offer it.
If she knew Darcy, however, he meant what he said. He would be seeking her out so whatever words he wished to say be it recriminations or warnings or. . .whatever he could possibly wish to say. . .she would do well to prepare herself. Dignity, indifference, poise.
Dignity, indifference, poise.
The sisters endeavored to conceal William's presence as Bingley's guest at Netherfield. As their mother moaned theatrically for an entire day over Mr. Bennet's decision not to call upon Mr. Bingley, Jane and Elizabeth spoke in the corner in hushed voices.
"Do you suppose he is serious?" Jane asked.
"Of course not," Elizabeth responded. "He is only teasing mama. You know how they enjoy their little games."
"I hope Papa does not call. Nothing good can come from such an acquaintance since Mr. Darcy is here."
"You know mother will never allow it. If I hear one more time of his fortune. . ."
Even now Mrs. Bennet was calling for her smelling salts, as she kept one sharp eye on her husband to judge the effect her emotional manipulations were having on him.
Jane sighed. "The delights of marriage."
Elizabeth sniffed. "It is what he gets, marrying mama for her beauty. He did not perform due diligence first."
"Lizzy."
"Well, it is true and you know it." But the next morning Mr. Bennet proved Lizzy right by announcing he had indeed called on Mr. Bingley and found him to be a tolerable enough young man.
"He may marry whichever of you he chooses," Papa said. "Two if he so desires. Let him have a harem of Miss Bennets."
"Oh! Mr. Bennet!" Mama exclaimed, scandalized. "The things you say! And in front of the tender ears of our youngest daughters."
"You have no care for the tender ears of the eldest?"
"They are both almost on the shelf and should know somewhat of the ways of the world, I daresay. But my darling Kitty and Lydia! Such innocence."
"You forget Mary."
Mrs. Bennet paused. "She is included, naturally, though she is not so young anymore as Kitty and Lydia. And far to well-read for her own good." She pursed her lips, staring at her middle daughter for a moment.
Mary snorted, not looking up from her book.
"Do you believe he will return the call, papa?" Jane asked, expression reserved.
Elizabeth knew full well her sister's motivation was not for the company of Mr. Bingley, but a desire to ascertain if Mr. Darcy would accompany him. If, indeed, their father knew of William's presence at all.
"I believe he shall, but I shan't allow you girls to trouble him if he does. Mustn't appear too eager, after all. Is that not correct, my dear? How did you manage to capture me, after all?"
Mrs. Bennet sniffed.
"Are you going to meet with Wickham?" Jane asked as they prepared for bed that evening. "You said you would send a note over. If you do not soon, I fear he will be impulsive and come here. And that would be a disaster."
"I am hoping he will forget. We cannot conceal them from Papa forever. There is to be an assembly, and if Mr. Bingley and his party are not invited, I shall eat my hat."
Jane closed her eyes briefly. "Maybe we shall have a miracle between now and then."
But a miracle was not forthcoming, and though Elizabeth and Jane tried to plead illness in order to avoid the assembly, their mother threw a massive tantrum in front of their father, causing him to put his foot down merely so he could have some peace.
Mama followed them up to their bedroom afterward. "What is the meaning of this, Jane and Elizabeth?" She put her hands on her hips, frowning. "£5,000 a year, and you plead illness! You know you two must wed for this estate in entailed away and unless you wish to one of you be stuck with Mr. Collins."
Elizabeth made a rude noise.
Mrs. Bennet rolled her eyes and took a seat. "You may make rude sounds all you want, Lizzy, but you are not accepting the reality of the situation. When Mr. Bennet is gone, we shall all be turned out, unless one of you girls masters the feminine charms you should have inherited from me."
"Mary would really be more suited to Mr. Collins," Jane said.
"She is already of a scholarly nature," Elizabeth added, saying what her sister would not. "With a personality so dour his unpleasantness quite escapes her."
"Yes, but no matter how suitable their personalities, Mary is not pretty, and Mr. Collins is a man, after all. And all men, no matter how fat or poor, believe they deserve to wed a goddess."
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged a look. "Perhaps we may take Mary in hand and improve her appearance somewhat. But, mama, if she is not for the match, I will not see her wed to Mr. Collins. A more ridiculous man I have never met in my life."
"Let Mary worry about his ridiculousness," their mother said. "You two worry about capturing the attention of Mr. Bingley. And let us pray he has a rich friend or cousin."
Both sisters suppressed a wince.
Though there was no need for Elizabeth to help in the kitchen, she did enjoy spending time in the little herb garden out back. The tiny, fragrant plants soothed her and caring for them and the other vegetables was a relaxing pastime. She was bent over a tomato plant when the sound of an approaching horse—no, two—sounded in her ears.
Elizabeth straightened, removing her apron with a frown and setting it aside on a little bench before walking around to the front of the house. She was presentable enough in a blue muslin gown, the kind of sensible attire she preferred since it was her habit to spend a great deal of time outdoors.
Jane joined her moments later as two horses appeared up the path, gentlemen on their backs.
"Oh, no," Jane sighed.
Elizabeth did not move. There was no point—William would not be waylaid. He had not been manageable as a youth, and she doubted he was any more malleable now. Besides, their mother even now peaked through the curtain of the sitting room, eyes round. She waved a hand frantically.
"Misses Bennet!" Mr. Bingley exclaimed as he pulled up, and nearly leaped off his horse. "I told Mr. Bennet I would call briefly this afternoon. I hope I am not imposing."
"And I see you have brought Mr. Darcy with you," Elizabeth said.
"Ah, yes, he was most eager to renew the acquaintance."
There was nothing but honest warmth in Mr. Bingley's eyes—eyes that were all for Jane. Elizabeth glanced sideways at her sister.
"Well, if my father is expecting you, I suppose you may come in," Elizabeth said.
William met her eyes, his expression neutral. He had dismounted less enthusiastically and remained silent as Mr. Bingley spoke. He wore no hat, and the sunlight glinted red in his dark hair.
"Elizabeth," he said.
"You should call me Miss Bennet," she replied. "It would be wiser."
His expression did not change, but she thought she sensed his displeasure. "Of course. . .Miss Bennet."
Jane glanced at Elizabeth and turned, leading the way into the house.
"I should make myself known to Mr. Bennet," William said. "He is not aware of my presence in Charles' party."
There was no help for it, especially when William—no, Mr. Darcy, she must begin to think of him as Mr. Darcy—used that stubborn tone of voice.
"Jane, I will take Mr. Darcy to Papa. I am certain Mama would like to make Mr. Bingley's acquaintance."
Jane nodded, expression serene though Elizabeth knew better. Darcy followed Elizabeth at a discreet distance as she walked to her father's study. Tapping on the door, she glanced over her shoulder. "Wait here," she said, then entered.
Papa looked up as she entered. "I hear horses. Is it young Mr. Bingley come to call?"
"It is. And he has brought a friend with him, Papa."
Papa's brows shot up. "A single male friend? Your mother will be in vapors."
"It is William Darcy, Papa."
Mr. Bennet was silent a long moment. "I beg your pardon?"
"He wishes to speak with you."
Her father did not move. "I cannot imagine what he has to say that I would wish to hear."
"I believe it is courtesy, Papa. He is staying with Mr. Bingley and did not wish his presence to come as a shock to the family."
Papa's face was expressionless, the kind of blankness she knew hid anger. He was not a loud man or given to temper. But rather when angry he dug in his heels. Her Papa's negative feelings towards Darcy ran deep. Yes, George had been the one to try and elope with her, but it was Darcy's anger and threats combined with the elder Mr. Darcy's that had blown the whole incident into a scandal. If Darcy had not chased them down and made a public spectacle of their capture, she would not have been ruined. To this day she wondered at Will's uncharacteristic anger and lapse in his usual reserved nature. Wickham had always been the more emotional of the two while Darcy was measured, not given to displays of emotion. That day, and the days that had followed, had been different.
"I will see him," Papa said.
She opened the study door and beckoned to Darcy. "Papa will see you."
Her childhood friend inclined his head and brushed past her. She did not close the door right away, staring at both men, her father having risen from his chair. They both turned to look at her.
"Lizzy," her father said, the dismissal clear.
She glanced between them once more and sighed, closing the door quietly behind her, hoping that there would be no repeats of the last time these two rams had met, locking horns. That had not been a pleasant day.
