When Darcy entered the drawing room, he found he had been behindhand. Miss Elizabeth was sitting on a settee with Mr. Bickering, laughing at something he was telling her. Darcy scowled.
"You must simply be telling tales, sir," said Elizabeth, "for no one, not even a sixteen-year-old midshipman, could be so foolhardy."
"I assure you that I am not," said Mr. Bickering, "He truly was like a monkey when he was up in the rigging and he was not old enough to have learned he was not, in fact, immortal."
"And this gentleman now serves in the House of Commons?" she asked with astonishment.
"He does, indeed," said Mr. Bickering.
"Astonishing. Whenever there are accounts of him in the paper, he always is so very stern-looking," said Elizabeth.
"Oh, that is an act. Once he is with his intimates, he takes off the parliamentary mask," said Mr. Bickering.
"And were you so foolhardy when you were young?" asked Elizabeth.
"Perhaps," said he, waving his left arm -which was missing its hand- at her.
"Would it be terribly impolitic of me to ask how you lost it?" said she.
"Oh, I do like to tell ladies that I lost it in a sword fight aboard a pirate ship, but the truth is that I lost it due to infection. I did get the cut from a battle though, only the source was a broken piece of wood, not an enemy blade."
"Dastardly splinter!" said Elizabeth, making him laugh.
"Darcy, you look in a foul mood," said Mr. Bickering, his smile faltering at the sight of his friend so peeved.
"I have a bit of a headache is all," said Darcy, turning away from them to look out the window.
"Sir?" asked Elizabeth, coming to stand next to him, "If your headache is severe, my sisters and I would be most willing to go back to Darcy House. We need not remain if it will cause you discomfort."
"I am well, Miss Elizabeth," said he, "Enjoy your conversation. I simply shall not be good company tonight."
Much to Darcy's relief, Colonel Fitzwilliam had taken up the seat that Miss Elizabeth had left vacant, and the two men were now trading stories. Elizabeth went to sit by Kitty, who was speaking with a young lady named Lady Samantha. She was the sister of one of the Earl's close acquaintances, and it would be her first season being out. She was excited that the little Season had begun but dreaded the larger season that begun after the New Year.
"Already I feel so uncomfortable," said she, "for I feel that I must not speak of anything of import with any gentleman, else he will think me a bluestocking and not wish to marry me. I do so hate that we must hide our intelligence to appeal to men."
"Don't hide then," said Elizabeth.
"What?" asked Lady Samantha.
"Don't hide your intelligence."
"But I cannot appear a blue stocking!"
"I am not saying that you must recite Latin for the gentlemen, but if a man asks you a question or there is a conversation on a subject you are familiar with, you should be able to give your opinion. If a man cannot accept that you have a brain, do you wish to marry him?" asked Elizabeth.
"I quite agree," said Lady Matlock approvingly, "Lord Matlock thought me rather impertinent when we first met, for I was very decided in my opinions. He once insulted my aunt, and I told him exactly what I thought of him. Well, we did not become betrothed that season, but by the next season we became friends and by the third we were married."
"Oh goodness," said Kitty, "He insulted your aunt? And you still married him?"
"He did apologise to her," said Lady Matlock, "And I must admit that his insult was not a falsehood."
"Yours was a love match, then?" asked Lady Samantha.
"It was. Fortunately, we both had the connections and fortune to make the match eligible as well, but we did –and still do—love each other."
"That is quite romantic, your ladyship," said Elizabeth.
"You are rather like me, Miss Elizabeth, when I was young," said her ladyship.
"I thank you, Lady Matlock," said Elizabeth.
"You are decided in your opinions for one so young. I do not agree with them all, but I respect that you hold them and are not afraid to speak your mind. Too many young ladies are shrinking violets. They hold no opinions; they only echo whatever the highest ranked person in the room says. I could ask their favourite piece of music and they would demur, saying they are certain they will enjoy whatever the musicians at the gathering preform."
"If there is one thing that none of my sisters, nor I, have ever been called, it is a shrinking violet. Even Jane, the most proper and polite of us all, will speak her mind. It is only that she often tends to assume the best of people so what is in her mind is often very kind."
"And what of you and Miss Catherine?" asked Lady Matlock, "Is what is in your mind kind?"
"I like to think so, at least the majority of the time," said Kitty.
"I do try not to be unkind, but I tend to have a wit that can be too sardonic at times," said Elizabeth, "I have hurt feelings without meaning to on more than one occasion. I do try to temper it."
"We all have faults, dear," said Lady Matlock.
"I like the Miss Bennets" Lady Matlock told her husband as they retired that evening.
"You will like them less when I tell you that Darcy has lost his head over Miss Elizabeth," said her husband.
"Has he now?" said Lady Matlock.
"He is determined to have her. He will not listen to reason," said he.
"He is in love, dearest. If I had been a country miss, would you have been dissuaded?"
"I would never have been introduced to you if you had been a penniless country miss."
"Let's say that you were. Perhaps I was a poor relation," said she.
"I do not know. The material point is that you were not a penniless country miss and instead were the niece of a marquess."
Lady Matlock, shocked by her husband's reply, got up and went to her own room, locking the adjoining door between their chambers.
"Elinor!" called her husband from the other side, but she did not reply.
The countess sat down at her writing desk and wrote out the Gardiner's address on one envelope and the address of Darcy House on another. She sealed the invitations and placed them on the salver to be delivered on the morrow. She then lay on her bed, listening to her husband pound on her door, calling her name for some while, until he gave up and went to bed.
"Brother," said Georgiana, "Is that the invitation for the ball? Does it include the Bennets?"
"It does," said he, "We were meant to return them to Longbourn before the date of the ball. I must write to their father and ask permission to keep them longer."
"I do so hope they can. I have become so attached to them. It is like having sisters!" said Georgiana.
"Would you like a sister, Georgie?" asked Darcy, "I know it has not been easy for you with only me and Richard for guardians."
"I would," said Georgiana slowly, "but only if she is the right sort of sister and if she makes you happy. I do not wish you to marry to please me."
"Would you mind greatly if the lady in question had not the best connections?" asked Darcy, "For if I marry, their connections will become ours as well. It could affect your prospects if I do not make what may be considered a good match."
"I do not care for that, Brother! I like Miss Elizabeth!" said Georgiana.
"But how…" began Darcy, shaking his head.
"I know you, Brother," said she, "Never have you been so at your ease with a lady. You smile and laugh and at much more amusing when you are in her company. I like her very well and think she would do very well for you, as she already has."
Thus, it was that the next evening, Darcy found himself attempting to gather the courage his enter his own library. Elizabeth was within, and as he had seen his sister exit only a few minutes before, he thought she was alone.
"The Wickhams are well, I trust," he asked upon entering and finding her reading a letter from her sister.
"Very well. They have hired Miss Breadford, Mrs. Annesley's niece, to be the governess. They were very impressed with her," Elizabeth told him.
"I am glad. Mrs. Annesley will be glad to see her niece in a good situation," he responded. They both went silent. Darcy began to pace the room, which caused Elizabeth some alarm.
"Are you well, sir?" she asked.
"Yes. I am well. Thank you," he answered, sitting down in a chair for a few moments before rising and pacing again. Elizabeth watched him, concerned about her friend. After some time, he spoke,
"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."