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“I care not one jot for wealth and connections. My fortune has bought me choice of bride.”

“But your birth has not! We are trying to distance ourselves from our roots, not reinforce them.”

“I am not ashamed of our family’s past,” Bingley protested. “Darcy does not seem to mind.” His friend turned to Darcy for support.

“I formed my own opinions long ago,” Darcy agreed. In fact, it was Miss Bennet’s aunt and uncle in trade who had changed his views. He had met Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and been surprised at how genteel they were. One might mistake them for a gentleman and his lady.

“And those opinions surely do not align with my brother’s,” Miss Bingley interjected.

“In fact, they do. I have met peers of the realm who behave poorly—worse than Mrs. Bennet. Their manners are excused because of their position. Should we not judge a person by the content of their character rather than the size of their pocketbook and the breadth of their connections?”

Miss Bingley did not seem to know what to say. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish for a moment before she changed tactics.

“You are young, brother, merely three-and-twenty. It is not wise for a young man to marry so early. You do not know yourself.”

“I am hardly a child, Caroline,” Bingley protested. “Darcy, tell me, why is it that young men are encouraged to wait to marry, but young women are meant to be almost children when they wed? I am sure they would prefer to wait themselves.”

Miss Bingley’s laugh was brittle. “Not at all, dear brother. Our place is by a husband’s side. Marrying young is how it is done.”

“You are nearly five-and-twenty, Caroline. When does young end?” Mr. Hurst spoke from the settee. He was in his cups despite it being before noon.

“Louisa, control your husband!” Caroline whirled to face her sister and brother-in-law. They sat side by side, the former fiddling with her bracelets.

“He has a point, Caroline,” Bingley replied. “I have a marvelous suggestion. You worry about your marital prospects, and I shall worry about mine.” He addressed Darcy again. “Shall we prepare to call on Longbourn?”

“If that pleases you.” It pleased him. Darcy had every desire to be with Miss Elizabeth again. Miss Bennet did not seem to be holding a grudge. It was not in her nature, to be sure.

“Caroline, Hurst, Louisa, do you wish to join us?” Bingley asked.

“I would rather die,” Miss Bingley sputtered.

“I believe I should lie down,” Mrs. Hurst replied. “I do not feel well.”

Mr. Hurst’s concern was immediate. “Come, my dear, let us go upstairs.” He stood and offered his arm to his wife, and they left the room.

Darcy wondered at his solicitude. Hurst rarely showed interest in his wife. He spent the interest from her dowry along with his own allowance, and they lived off friends rather than stay in Wiltshire with his parents.

“What was that about?” Bingley asked, voicing Darcy’s thoughts.

“Louisa is always complaining,” Miss Bingley snapped.

Darcy had his suspicions, but he did not believe it was his place to inform Bingley and his other sister.

“Then I suppose it is just us, Darcy. Do you wish to ride or take the carriage?”

Clouds gathered outside, a sure sign of another impending storm.

“Perhaps the carriage,” he said. “Though we had best pay attention to the weather. We do not wish to be caught in a blizzard.”

Darcy and Bingley made haste and departed, partially to escape Miss Bingley, who seemed determined to inconvenience them in every way possible. Her efforts to keep her brother were doomed to fail, however, and soon the men left the house and boarded the carriage.

“Tell me about Miss Bennet,” Darcy asked when they had set off.

“What do you wish to know? I have told you all.”

“I wish to know when you will propose,” Darcy clarified.

Bingley looked uncertain. “It has not been more than a few months,” he hedged. “I have been courting her unofficially. What if she does not like me?”