The Five Graces of Longbourn

by Olivia Kane

  On the topics of landscaping and drainage, Mr. Bennet and Darcy found much common ground. The conversation then turned to fishing with even louder joviality. Talk of tackle and bait bored Elizabeth and she sunk again into an irritable mood. Her father and her enemy were walking slowly together and bonding swiftly. Mr. Darcy even went so far as to extend an invitation to Mr. Bennet to join him on the morrow at an early hour to fish. His actions were so accommodating, so eager to please, that her suspicions could not help be ignited.

  Why was Mr. Darcy seeking out their company?

  The luncheon was long and now their walking so leisurely that Elizabeth began to suspect Darcy was dawdling in order to avoid returning to Rosings where his fiancé awaited. How great must be the expectations of Lady Catherine when the two were finally together! In fact, his reason for being at Rosings must have been of a romantic nature. Perhaps wedding plans were underway?

  She felt her good humor return as she contemplated the ridiculousness of the match and Elizabeth could not help but tease Mr. Darcy when a lull in the conversation occurred.

  “Your fiancé, Miss de Bourgh, she is not well today?”

  Mr. Darcy replied, “She is very well indeed. She was sitting upright in the drawing room with her mother and Mrs. Jenkinson when we left to meet you.”

  “And she does not mind that her fiancé chooses to entertain other young women? Surely, you two are not together often; does Lady Catherine object?”

  “I do not run my plans past my aunt, if that is your question,” he replied softly.

  “It is just such a very peculiar engagement. I have never heard of such a one where the happy couple is never seen together, despite being under the same roof.”

  “Rosings has a very large roof.”

  Elizabeth was taken aback by his irreverence and glanced at him. She was horrified to see a merry look on his face. A look that seemed to say, “Spar with me, if you please.”

  She sobered quickly, making sure he did not get the satisfaction of amusing her. It was her way to be annoyed by humorless types who could not laugh at their faults or those of others. She silently admitted to herself that an intelligent man who made her laugh could be a danger to her heart. Thank goodness Mr. Darcy had so many other faults! She was determined to hold onto her dislike of him, which she enjoyed tremendously.

  “But there are so few opportunities for you two to spend time together. I hate to remove you from her company. Will she not resent me?” Elizabeth persisted.

  “I know my cousin well and believe me when I say she prefers to be out and about in the curricle. She makes her own schedule,” he said.

  “Does she not include you in her plans when you are at Rosings?”

  “She neither requires my company nor requests it.”

  “But to be alone so much?”

  “She is not alone. She is accompanied by her favorite footmen in whose company she is quite content,” Darcy explained.

  “I find it all so odd,” she laughed.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, I do. I am wondering whether or not you enjoy the flattery and attention of being an eligible man of consequence more than you value being forthright about your commitments?” she poked at him.

  “Flattery is transparent and a bore,” he said.

  “Still, I pity Miss de Bourgh.”

  “Oh look,” said Mr. Bennet, who had remained silent while the two young people flirted. “A stag, up ahead in the clearing.”

  The trio stopped to marvel at nature’s magnificent creation. Jane and Bingley caught up and, in a low whisper, Darcy directed their gaze in the direction of the stag standing alert yet motionless against the dark of the woods. When the stag darted off, the mood of the group was altered and the time for teasing had passed. Claiming fatigue, Elizabeth requested to return to the inn, and Darcy, a true gentleman, immediately obliged.

  Chapter 12

  The following morning, Mr. Bennet waved goodbye to his girls as they sat in the dining room eating their breakfast. “I am off to fish in the great pond of Rosings with Mr. Darcy. Enjoy your morning!”

  Elizabeth was dumbfounded at the men’s fast friendship.

  “Here I thought the main danger of Rosings was to be an over-solicitous Mr. Collins,” she complained.

  Jane smiled widely at her sister. “Oh Elizabeth, who knew Mr. Darcy was so kind? We were so mistaken in his character.”

  Elizabeth scowled. “Mistaken? Certainly not. If we had not come to Rosings his plan to keep you and Bingley apart would stand. It is only by coincidence that we are all together. His character continues to be self-serving and his hospitality towards us must benefit himself in some way.”

  “But he has shown such kindness to father particularly.”

  “His hospitality to father is most likely coming under the instruction of his aunt. She does not fish or walk so he must do it in her absence. The stripping of Wickham’s living is still something he must account for. And Wickham told me before we left that Darcy uses his charms liberally when he wants something. He is all fraud, and I for one have not been taken in by him.”

  Jane was silenced by Elizabeth’s strong emotions.

  She placed her hand gently on Elizabeth’s arm. “I am sorry. I know how much you do not like him. But if it is any help, I asked Mr. Bingley what he knew about the history between Darcy and Wickham, hoping for confirmation of Wickham’s story.”

  “Go on.”

  “Mr. Bingley knows Wickham from university and does not have good things to say about him—especially in front of a lady—is how he put it. But what he will say is that Darcy does not speak of Wickham nor is Wickham’s name spoken when Darcy is around. And, as for the living as a parson for Wickham, it was said to be conditional.”

  “I imagine Darcy would say anything to excuse his behavior. In fact, I find his excuse unimpressive,” Elizabeth declared, biting into her toast. After thoughtfully chewing for a moment, she said, “What else does Mr. Bingley say?”

  “That Darcy and Miss de Bourgh do not speak. In fact, they hardly look at each other.”

  “How peculiar. I declare he must not be the least bit romantic,” Elizabeth mused. “Such a cold heart in such a young man.”

  “I don’t think he’s cold,” Jane murmured.

  “Oh, let us change the subject. I have had enough of Mr. Darcy. What time is the carriage coming again?” Lady Catherine had sent word that a carriage was at their disposal if they desired to pay a visit to a charming river town a short drive away.

  “Eleven, I believe,” Jane said.

  “Very good. I need a change of scene,” she declared.

  Elizabeth and Jane spent an enjoyable few hours window-shopping and carefully selecting trinkets to bring back to Meryton for their sisters and mother. But as the day wore on, the prospect of encountering Mr. Darcy at Rosings again that night depressed her spirits. Jane felt otherwise to be in Bingley’s company and so Elizabeth did her best to hide her true feelings.

  To Elizabeth’s chagrin, the placement at the dinner table found Mr. Darcy seating himself between her and Miss Anne. Throughout the long, drawn-out dinner, Mr. Darcy insisted on speaking primarily to Elizabeth.

  “You said this Mr. Collins is a relative of your family? How so, again?”

  “Yes. A distant cousin. A clerical living is such a blessing, is it not Mr. Darcy?”

  “A blessing? Who am I to declare it such?” he replied in surprise.

  “So you do not value the calling?”

  “It is not always a calling; in some cases, it is a commodity.”

  “To be given or taken as a display of power?”

  “I do not follow your point?”

  “Only that Mr. Wickham had a living and you took it away,” she confronted him.

  “Is that his story?”

  “You diminish his injury by calling it fiction?”

  “Only that it depends on the day of the week as to how Mr. Wickham reports his misfortunes. On a Tuesd
ay he is apt to be maligned much differently than on a Wednesday.”

  “How can you make light of his position? Surely your level of consequence should lend Wickham your sympathies, not your derision,” she continued.

  “I save my sympathy for the widows and orphans, as Christ commands us.”

  “Was not Wickham an orphan in need of something?”

  “In the same way Georgiana and I are orphans. He is well-educated and in possession of all his faculties,” he scoffed.

  Mr. Darcy would not cede one inch of territory to Elizabeth’s charges and the debate continued until the meal was over and their hostess stood up to signal the end of the dinner.

  From her position at the head of the table, Lady Catherine monitored Darcy’s attentions to Elizabeth and when the women reassembled in the gilded drawing room, she began to make inquiries as to their acquaintance.

  “I was not aware that you and my nephew were previously acquainted, nor that you would have so much to talk about,” she said in a type of complaint against the two.

  “Yes, we met in my home village of Meryton this past year. Mr. Bingley’s leased estate is but three miles from Longbourn, our home,” Elizabeth replied.

  “He spoke to you more than to my Anne,” she observed out loud.

  “I wish he would speak to Miss de Bourgh more than to me,” Elizabeth agreed.

  “The future of your family, should your father pass, is quite precarious, is it not?” Lady Catherine persisted.

  Elizabeth blushed at the subject but spoke with grace about the situation. “It is an unfortunate arrangement; however, we pray for the long life and health of my father.”

  “Mr. Darcy is famously wealthy but I must impress upon you that no corruption of his engagement is possible.” Lady Catherine stared coldly at Elizabeth as she spoke.

  “I do not understand.”

  “Whether or not he chooses to speak to you at the table, my Anne will be his wife. He may speak to a great many young ladies in the course of being out in society; I have no wish to imprison him before his time. But there have been many a young lady to whom I have had to give this instruction. I pray that I only have to tell you once.”

  “Dear Lady Catherine, I must set you at ease. Your nephew made it perfectly clear to me upon our first acquaintance that he thought my looks plain, and he has proceeded to remind me on more than one occasion that my station in life is below his. His remarks to me are hardly that of a suitor.”

  “His honesty is his greatest fault.”

  “I perfectly agree. He once said that his good opinion, once lost, was gone forever. I can assure you that there is not, and never will be, any relationship between us beyond a civil acquaintance.” Elizabeth’s statements, issued with an easy composure, greatly impressed Lady Catherine.

  “I thought I liked you before, but now I like you more,” Lady Catherine said. “So many young women aim to rise above their station in life. You are unique in agreeing that the distinction in rank is no small impediment. But I have some good news for you, Miss Bennet. As I mentioned before, there is a handsome widower not two miles from here in Kent, a Mr. Horace Skeffington. He has a large estate and all his teeth and he has very graciously consented to make your acquaintance.”

  “That is an impressive offer,” Elizabeth noted.

  “He has two young sons who are said to be very well behaved, so you will not be pressured to provide an heir. He comes to tea tomorrow so you may be introduced.”

  “That is most kind of you, my lady. I am certain I do not deserve your interest,” Elizabeth replied.

  “Mr. Skeffington’s gardens are highly lauded in the county. His peonies are award-winning. I do not care much for peonies; roses are my specialty, when in season. Speaking of gardens, my tulips and crocuses have sprung up quite beautifully this year. Have you been to see my walled garden yet, Miss Bennet?”

  “No, I have not.”

  “Be sure to walk in it before you depart for Hertfordshire. The soil in Kent is particularly well-suited for the tulips, although my trusty gardener employs a few tricks to ensure their constant beauty.”

  “I will go tomorrow, if weather permits,” Elizabeth promised.

  “Please do. Then come to tea in the afternoon and tell me your thoughts. I will share some instructions for your own home gardens. I do not horde my horticultural tricks of the trade.”

  “Thank you, Lady Catherine. You are too kind.”

  Satisfied, Lady Catherine then turned her attention to her daughter and began correcting her posture.

  “Sit straight my dear. Digestion is impaired otherwise.”

  Anne shifted in her seat and straightened briefly but resumed slumping when her mother turned away.

  When the men joined the women, Elizabeth was perturbed to see Mr. Darcy’s gaze land on her repeatedly. Thankfully, the Rosings drawing room was uncomfortably spacious, the chairs and settees so spread out that despite Darcy’s constant stare, he was seated a far enough distance away that to join in the conversation would require him to shout, and this he would not do. Mr. Bingley, however, was more than happy to interrupt his constant conversation with Jane to entreat Elizabeth to play the pianoforte.

  “You must!” Lady Catherine insisted when discovering that Elizabeth was musical. Elizabeth demurred but not for long.

  “Very well,” she agreed.

  Upon sitting down at the pianoforte, Elizabeth saw that she was in Mr. Darcy’s direct view. She moved the sheet music slightly to her left so that it blocked her face from his persistent gaze. Lady Catherine had an extensive collection of music, and Elizabeth thought it only polite to ask for her preference.

  “Do you know any Haydn?” Lady Catherine inquired.

  “Yes, I can play his sonata.”

  “Splendid!”

  The tinkling of the pianoforte filled the drawing room. Elizabeth then followed up the sonata with a lively Irish folk song, also arranged by Haydn. During the performance, Mr. Darcy paced the room anxiously with his hands behind his back, keeping her in his line of vision.

  Lady Catherine clapped her hands in delight. “You must sing that song again tomorrow when Mr. Skeffington is here. I declare he may make you an offer of marriage on the spot!”

  Mr. Bennet’s eyebrows rose in surprised confusion.

  “Who is this suitor, may I ask?” he inquired from across the drawing room.

  “Mr. Bennet, I was speaking to your daughter this evening of Mr. Skeffington. He is a local widow with two young sons and a fine estate, not two miles from me. Your Elizabeth must be introduced! I am asking him to tea tomorrow.”

  Mr. Bennet thanked Lady Catherine then sought to read Elizabeth’s reaction in her expression, but her face was hidden behind the music. Mr. Darcy, who had by then returned to his seat next to Mr. Bennet, shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

  Elizabeth rose from the pianoforte and seated herself on the other side of her father, where Mr. Darcy could not comfortably look at her without craning his neck. For the remainder of the evening, Lady Catherine held court. She examined Bingley on the health of his livestock, quizzed Jane on her accomplishments, and declared her love of music over and over. At the end of the evening, Lady Catherine reminded Elizabeth that the walled garden was at its most sublime in the morning hours. Mr. Darcy said nothing for the duration of the evening.

  He is as mute as his cousin. They are the perfect match, Elizabeth thought.

  At last, the time to depart arrived and the company said their goodbyes. The carriage door had barely slammed shut when Jane grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and exclaimed, “Oh Elizabeth! You will never guess what Mr. Bingley said!”

  “I fear I cannot stop you,” Elizabeth said with dread.

  “Mr. Bingley told me that his sisters are known to tease Mr. Darcy relentlessly about you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Apparently, Mr. Darcy does not think you merely tolerable anymore. In fact, he said that you had remarkably fine eyes. Oh Elizabeth,
can you see what is happening here?”

  “I cannot.”

  “Mr. Darcy is courting you. The flowers, the walks, the attentiveness to Father. Mr. Bingley as well as confirmed it today. He said he had never seen Mr. Darcy pay so much notice to a young woman who was so obviously immune to his favor.”

  “Obviously immune? If I am immune it is because no such favor exists. My manner to him is all impertinence. If others mistake it for flirtation that is their mistake.”

  “Mr. Darcy does not describe you as impertinent. Fascinating and a challenge, were the words that Mr. Bingley said he used.”

  “A challenge? A woman with a low dowry whose favor he did not immediately gain is a blow to his ego and I suspect closer to the truth. No, be assured, Mr. Darcy does not esteem me. If he desires to win me over it is only to keep his record of admirers intact and soothe his injured pride. I will never fall prey to his pride. Thank you, dearest Jane, for informing me of these opinions, but pray, do not speak any more of such nonsense for I fear I will laugh so hard I may faint.”

  Chapter 13

  Elizabeth tried in vain to persuade Jane and her father to join her in a walk to Rosings’ garden. Jane had a headache that she feared would be aggravated by flora, and Mr. Bennet was sunk deep into a game of backgammon with a fellow traveler and did not want to seem churlish by leaving in the middle of a game he was losing.

  Now supremely wary of Mr. Darcy’s admiration of her, she feared trespassing on his territory would bring them face-to-face. Yet never one to be intimidated, she steadied her nerves, grabbed her parasol and bonnet and headed to Rosings as was her plan.

  Once inside the walled garden, she saw she was right to not let her nerves control her. The charming space was deserted, save for the warblers. High hedges enclosed the blossoms, arranged in orderly rows, giving it the feel of a secret place. She walked the gravel paths content to be alone; recent days had left her much to think about.

  Much as she wished otherwise, Mr. Darcy’s attentions to her were clearly marked. The initial ire of Lady Catherine, which Elizabeth was able to dissuade, was based in some true observation of her nephew’s behavior during dinner and throughout their stay.