Page 62 of Mr. Darcy’s Diamonds

“Mr. Cage was a lovesick puppy, forlorn to be parted from Miss Eliza for even one evening. When I questioned him, he spoke of her as though their engagement were imminent, although he admitted it would be a long betrothal. Apparently, Miss Eliza had at least told him of her uncle’s decree that she not marry until she is of age.”

Darcy had not heard that before. He supposed that was why she had been slow to enter society in the first place. This was good news, as it meant she would not be utterly lost to him for some time yet. Not that she could be any more lost to him than she already was. He could not stoop so low, no matter how much time he was granted.

“If Cage was so much in love, what happened, Caro? You said he changed his mind about her?”

Darcy was appeased to see Bingley’s face showed all the concern of a brother for Elizabeth when he questioned his sister. He could not support Elizabeth openly, but Bingley should if he was serious about her cousin.

Miss Bingley shared a smug smile with Mrs. Hurst before replying.

“I may have hinted that before coming to London to live in Cheapside with the purpose of securing a wealthy husband, she lived her first fifteen years on a tenant farm.” She laughed. “He grew pale and excused himself quickly after that.”

Darcy’s teeth clenched as he struggled to control his rage. He knew that was a lie. Elizabeth’s father may have been a tenant farmer or may have been a yeoman who worked his own small plot of land. She may be far below him in birth, but her father had died, and she had grown up as a gentlewoman, not as a peasant.

Later, he would feel shame once more for behaving almost as poorly as Mr. Cage had. At least he had not raised Elizabeth’s expectations. He hoped she was not terribly heartbroken over her recent loss.

In July, although the Season was essentially over, Elizabeth received an invitation to one last ball. It was unlikely she would see Mr. Darcy or even the Bingleys at this time of year. She had evaded them quite well in the months since Jane had returned to Longbourn. Elizabeth would have declined the invitation, though, had Aunt Gardiner not intervened. The ball was hosted by an old friend, and although Aunt could not go so soon after Joseph’s birth, she wished Elizabeth to attend so arranged for Edith’s mother to chaperone her. Mrs. Cage was only in town for a few more days, due to her husband’s business, and she was elated to appear at one more ball.

After arriving at the private residence and greeting her hostess, Elizabeth immediately found a couple of friends who would be leaving town a few days later. Soon, she was dancing, although she did not feel as energetic as she had with Priscilla and Edith beside her. She must be honest. Even now, she experienced the resurgence of her feelings over losing Mr. Darcy’s friendship, which hurt more after an excess of a year than any harm Mr. Cage had done a month ago.

Fearing she was not good company at present, when the set ended, she made her way to another room where she found a convenient alcove and leaned against a wall to regather her cheerful demeanor.

As voices approached, she almost revealed her hidden presence until she recognized the speakers.

“Darcy, come with me to King’s Place tonight after this dreadful ball,” she heard Mr. Bingley say. “I have heard Mrs. Hayes has a luxurious home in St. James’s.

“Do you know what that place is?” Mr. Darcy chuckled.

“Of course I do. It is a place of entertainment and exercise for gentleman.”

“Bingley, you make it sound like Gentleman Jackson’s, but I assure you, a boxing match is far more gentlemanly than the activities of a brothel.” Mr. Darcy’s humor had turned to disgust, and Elizabeth barely stifled a gasp to hear of Mr. Bingley’s plans. He was courting Jane, and he would…he would. Elizabeth’s cheeks warmed, though she did not truly know what went on at a brothel.

“You cannot tell me you have never been there yourself,” Mr. Bingley said.

“I certainly can! And how can you think of it when you are courting Miss Bennet?”

“Really, Darce! She has returned to the country and will never know. I have finally taken my degree and mean to celebrate. Tell me you will join me before you take your sister back to Pemberley on Thursday; if you do not care for King’s Place, tell me of a brothel more suited to your fine tastes. I had heard Mrs. Hayes owns perfectly respectable establishments, but⁠—”

“Bingley, no brothel is respectable, and that is hardly a way to celebrate your great achievement at Oxford.”

“So you go to widows, then? Or do you have a mistress? I cannot believe we have never discussed this before. Is this why you are satisfied to be in the country for so long?”

Elizabeth had long-since outstayed any accidental eavesdropping, but she could not escape now without drawing their notice. She was not sure she wanted to hear Mr. Darcy’s answer. He was an arrogant man who had used her friendship ill. She realized in this moment, though, that she had not lost all respect for him. Would she lose it now? That depended entirely on this conversation she only partially understood.

“Bingley.” Mr. Darcy sighed heavily. “We have not discussed it, I suppose, because there is nothing to discuss.”

“You really will not tell me?” Mr. Bingley sounded as though he was getting upset. He also sounded as though he may be in his cups.

“Because I have nothing to tell, man!” Mr. Darcy also sounded annoyed but perfectly sober. “I have never…My father taught me to guard a lady’s virtue, not take it.”

“But widows and whores are not virtuous, Darcy.”

“Perhaps not, but they are still women, and I will maintain my own virtue.” Elizabeth was impressed by the conviction in Mr. Darcy’s voice. “Look, Bingley. I realize many gentlemen feel differently, but as I said, my father gave me stricter principles, for various reasons, and I will not treat women as playthings. If that is all Miss Bennet is or will be to you, then I suggest you cease courting her⁠—”

“Surely—”

“—or at least discover what her own views on the subject are. Some wives, I know, turn a blind eye…”

“Very well, Darcy. I will think upon it.”