Page 67 of Her Whole Heart
“And very quiet.”
“I suppose he need not speak. In his work it might be better to be a man of action.”
Mr. Darcy laughed. Cheerfulness made him appear younger. “You must be right.” He held out his arm to Elizabeth. “Let me escort you back inside and then speak with the earl. I am only calling, but he will wish to know.”
“I trust you to do things in the right way, sir,” Elizabeth assured him.
He smiled, and Elizabeth’s breath came a little faster. “Thank you.”
Mr. Darcy was such a complex man—she truly had not had an inkling that he would take this step, though now she could allow herself to admit that she had hoped for it. Having a suitor like Mr. Darcy would undoubtedly bring its own set of challenges, further scrutiny from society and the uncertainties of love itself not the least of them. But as she considered the man beside her, his profile sharp against the winter sky, she knew that everything she had done and experienced had brought her here, with him, and that it was a very fine place to be.
Alas, one was never allowed to remain in bliss for long. The demands of life always intruded, and being in company with the Bingley sisters was the price Jane had to pay for her own wished-for match. Elizabeth would never leave her sister in the hands of such dubious personages without her, so Jane always had her as a shadow, and often Amelia too.
Mr. Bingley’s sisters had been in London for more than a week when they invited Jane, Elizabeth, and Amelia on an outing. They were less enthusiastic when Jane mentioned an already planned excursion to the British Museum, but they agreed to join the ladies from Carlisle House.
Much to Miss Bingley’s disappointment, the Darcys did not join them. Elizabeth would not admit that she agreed with Mr. Bingley’s pumpkin-hued sister. She would also have liked to see Mr. and Miss Darcy and hear their thoughts on the displays.
Mr. Darcy had explained that he would be meeting with his uncle and cousins on business matters, and Elizabeth told herself to remain sanguine—not everything in his life was about her, certainly. Still, she missed his presence. Mr. Bingley was a nice man, and a compatible match for Jane, but he lacked the sort of intellectual and emotional intensity that she was learning she required. So she and Amelia followed Jane and her suitor about Sir Hans Sloane’s collection of plant specimens from Jamaica and listened to them discuss both the display and the ethics of his study among the slaves on the island. Simultaneously, she attempted to ignore the complaints of his newly arrived sisters, who apparently were more interested in ancient jewellery. It was not long before the two groups split, the Bingley sisters being escorted by Mrs. Hurst’s husband, a broad, heavy man who smelled of brandy.
If this courtship ever came to anything, Jane would have her hands full with these women. Elizabeth hoped Miss Bingley would prefer to live with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, for that would be the best solution for them all. Jane would never be usurped in her own house, and Miss Bingley was unlikely to appreciate that.
Amelia had asked to view a few of the sculptures, and Jane and Elizabeth walked with her, Laramie trailing, while Mr. Bingley went to collect the rest of his family.
As they strolled out towards the front of the building, Jane and Elizabeth froze when they heard voices coming from a small exhibition room off the hall. They would have missed it entirely had not Miss Bingley huffed and spoken just as they were moving past.
“Charles,” she was saying, “you cannot be serious. Why did you not seek our approval first?”
“I was not aware I required it,” Mr. Bingley replied.
Mrs. Hurst’s lower voice spoke next. “Think, Brother. While the connection to the Carlisles is certainly advantageous, it is hardly a solid foundation for a marriage.”
Mr. Bingley might have said any number of things then—that he cared for Jane above all others. That he was already in a courtship. That the connection to the Carlisles was neither here nor there in any case. Perhaps even that he was capable of choosing a wife for himself.
But there was only silence.
Elizabeth bit her lower lip and glanced at Jane, who was standing very still. She took Jane’s arm to hurry her away, but Jane removed Elizabeth’s hand and shook her head.
Amelia glanced behind them, and Laramie moved closer.
“What would you have me do, Caroline? I thought you would be pleased, for Jane and her sister have a very sincere friendship with the Carlisles.”
Jane frowned.
“Friendship? Charles, do not be naïve. The Carlisles are a great family who might drop the acquaintance on a whim, and then where will you be? No, you should set your sights on Miss Darcy as we have discussed before.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed.
“I highly doubt Miss Darcy is at all interested in me in such a way, and I am not interested in her.”
“Your friendship with Mr. Darcy is far more established, Charles, and more likely to endure,” Mrs. Hurst said, ignoring her brother. “And do not forget that Miss Darcy’s fortune exceeds that of Miss Bennet by nearly ten thousand pounds. It would be a more advantageous match.”
“Do not be ridiculous,” Mr. Bingley said.
“Charles, recall Papa’s admonition to you, to secure your future and elevate your family’s status in the best way available to you. You must think practically.”
Jane and Elizabeth shared a pained look. They knew the strength of parental expectations, but they had plotted their own course. Surely Mr. Bingley, with his vast funds, could do the same. They waited a beat, but Mr. Bingley said nothing, and Jane finally motioned that they should leave.
Elizabeth was both saddened and relieved. Mr. Darcy’s defence at the theatre had not only made an impression on Elizabeth—strength was appealing to Jane as well. If Mr. Bingley did not have it, it was better to know now, no matter how distressing it was in the moment.
