by Jann Rowland
“That is true,” said Georgiana. “What of some of the other sights the north boasts? Do you wish to return to London without seeing the Lake Country?”
“Oh, the lakes would be lovely,” said Miss Bennet. “My aunt and uncle have spoken of their wish to travel to see the lakes, though, on my aunt’s part, that is ancillary to her desire to return to see Lambton and Derbyshire.”
“It is unfortunate,” said Darcy, finding his voice again, “but the lakes are a little too far distant for us to visit them during your stay this time. But perhaps we might plan for it during some future visit, for they are well worth it.”
“I was raised in the north,” said Bingley, “but even I have never visited the lakes.”
“They are well worth it,” Georgiana repeated her brother’s statement with enthusiasm. “One of my ancestors possessed the foresight to purchase a lodge on Windermere Lake, so we may go anytime we wish.”
“That is fortunate, indeed,” said a laughing Miss Bennet. “Then I must suppose you have stayed there many times.”
“When my father was alive,” said Georgiana, “we did not go often. But since his passing, William and I have stayed there three times.” Georgiana sighed. “It is quite the tranquil location, and the lakes are perfect for boating, riding, and many other activities. My brother has even taken me fishing! I believe you would love it there, Elizabeth.”
“That is without question,” replied Mr. Bingley, “for our Elizabeth loves anything to do with nature.”
“Indeed, I do,” was Miss Bennet’s firm reply. “There is nothing I like better than the sun on my face and the wind in my hair, for what greater delights are there than those provided every day by our mother earth in all her glory? There are many other amusements, to be sure, but none greater than these.”
As the rest of the party descended into further conversation, all agreeing with Miss Bennet, though not with the same fervency, he noted, Darcy descended further into thought. Miss Bennet was always in his line of sight, however, and much of what passed his mind focused on his impressions of her, reflections of his attraction, amid vivid images of what it would be like if she should remain in Derbyshire forever as his partner in life. Never having considered such matters to such an extent, Darcy found himself a little startled at the fervency of his thoughts. And the shadow of his father loomed large.
It was amusing to Elizabeth that Mr. Bingley’s opinion of the estate was clear to the entire company as soon as they entered the front hall. The gentleman, whose exuberance Elizabeth had often noted, exuded a childlike enthusiasm as he led his wife into the house, exclaiming over the size of the hall and the fineness of the workmanship. Jane, to Elizabeth’s eyes, saw as much herself and indulged him, allowing him to guide her from room to room, exclaiming at this sight or that, every word she uttered provoking greater excitement in the gentleman.
“And this is the music room,” said Mr. Bingley as they stepped into a bright and airy room, decorated in understated blues and greens. “Is it not a handsome room?”
“It is as handsome as any room I have ever seen,” said Jane, further delighting the gentleman.
And it was a lovely room. The furniture was of an older style and there was no pianoforte, but there was a place for it set off to one side, though Elizabeth suspected it had been many years since one sat there. Windows, wide and high, set into the north wall overlooking the back gardens, made the room equally pleasant in the morning or evening. The wallpaper, while perhaps a little dated, was bright and cheerful, and the trim was in excellent condition and seemed to have a fresh coat of paint, making it shine in the afternoon light.
“Should we purchase the property,” Mr. Bingley was saying as Elizabeth inspected the view outside the windows, “I shall ensure we purchase a pianoforte, for the room hardly lives up to its title now, does it?”
The ladies laughed, and Georgiana exclaimed: “That is a serious oversight, indeed, Mr. Bingley. How clever of you to rectify it as soon as may be.”
Mr. Bingley grinned at her, but it was Jane who responded. “That is true, but perhaps we need not attend to it quite so soon; as you know, I play little, and shall not feel the lack of a pianoforte.”
“Ah, but your sister shall live with us,” said Mr. Bingley, winking at Elizabeth. “And should my sisters learn I have a music room but not a pianoforte, I am certain the abuse will be beyond anything I have ever experienced!”
“I am certain you are correct!” cried Georgiana.
“Do not hurry for my sake,” interjected Elizabeth. “We all understand that I am not diligent enough in practicing that I would repine the absence of an instrument.”
“Then perhaps if I purchase one you will find yourself obliged to make use of it,” teased Mr. Bingley.
“You may be correct,” replied Elizabeth.
They continued the tour from there, through rooms large and small. The estate boasted sitting-rooms, a large dining room, and a breakfast room, as well as a family wing with six bedrooms and a guest wing with ten. The bedchambers were the same as those below, bright with the afternoon sunlight, the furniture again a little old but still fine, with a beautiful view of the surrounding fields and woods. By the time they reached the end of the tour, Elizabeth understood that she would be happy at Hazelwood should Mr. Bingley purchase it.
“What is your opinion?” asked Mr. Bingley when they reached the entrance again. “I know it is not Pemberley, but it is far more likely to purchase Pemberley itself than to obtain its likeness by imitation. This may be, perhaps, an acceptable substitute.”
“Oh, Charles,” said Jane, regarding her husband with a fond shake of her head. “Pemberley is a beautiful estate, but I do not believe we must strive for imitation. Rather, I should prefer a home that reflects our preferences, one in which we can live out our days in comfort and pride in the work of our own hands.”
“Listen to your wife, Bingley,” said Mr. Darcy, “for she is a wise woman.”
Mr. Bingley grinned at his friend and turned back to Jane. “Then you approve of Hazelwood?”
“Of course, I do,” replied Jane. “It is in every way lovely and would suit us to the last degree. The larger question, in my opinion, is whether you consider it a practical investment.”
“It is an excellent investment,” said Mr. Bingley. “The house, as you have seen, is a little dated in décor and furniture, but there is nothing wrong with it, and we may replace a little at a time at our leisure. The estate boasts a full complement of tenants and most of the buildings are in excellent repair. Though it has suffered a little from the lack of a master, it is profitable now and will become more so as we exert control. There are a few more things I should like to look at, but overall, it is an excellent investment.”
“Then perhaps you and Mr. Darcy should look into those items while Jane, Georgiana, and I investigate the state of the gardens.”
The company all laughed, and Mr. Bingley cried: “Trust Elizabeth to remember what is truly important!”
Though they subjected Elizabeth to teasing for several moments, they all agreed with her suggestion. Within moments, the two groups parted, and Elizabeth led the ladies toward the back door and out into the formal portion of the estate’s park.
A sigh escaped Elizabeth’s lips when the warmth of the sun washed over her body as they stepped into the bright sunlight. Behind the door, the path took them in a wide circle out to the furthest extent of the garden, lined with gardenias and lilies, daisies, and roses, all tended by someone who knew his work. Despite how long this estate had stood empty, it appeared the owner had kept up the place in excellent condition, though Elizabeth supposed that was the work of the manager and the staff. It was a lovely progression, as it lent an air of formality without being stifling.
“What do you think, Jane?” asked Elizabeth after they had walked for some moments. “You will have more roses to tend here than we ever had at Longbourn.”
Jane nodded, though the smile did not g
race her lips. Mr. Collins, being a practical—and silly—sort of man, had deemed the roses a waste and replaced Longbourn’s gardens with vegetables and less “ostentatious” flowers. As if Longbourn did not already produce vegetables aplenty! Though Jane had said little at the time, Elizabeth, knowing her sister well, knew the loss of her beloved rose garden had distressed her. The roses in this garden were more extensive and of greater variety than those at Longbourn, and Elizabeth knew her sister would set to tending them with great enthusiasm.
“There is no dearth of roses, Lizzy, though our garden’s charms are much greater than this. What of you?” Jane gave Elizabeth a laughing wink. “After all, your opinion is as important as mine, is it not? Are there enough spaces for you to walk to your heart’s content, or must we search for something in which you can become lost several times over?”
“Surely not!” replied Georgiana, shaking with laughter. “I am convinced your sister will not become lost regardless of the size of her surroundings!”
“I thank you for your faith, Georgiana,” replied Elizabeth, and not without a hint of irony. “As for you, Jane, yes, I approve of what I am seeing. Though I have not yet ventured out beyond the cultured part of the gardens, I am certain there are enough delightful paths that I shall find a few that will become especial favorites.”
“Then you will live with us?”
“I have already said I would.”
“You did,” agreed Jane. “But I have a healthy respect for your desire not to inconvenience us, regardless of how many times I inform you that you could never be a burden.”
“Yes, well, when my uncle pointed out how much more Mr. Collins considers me an intruder in his home, there did not leave much choice.”
“As it should be,” said Jane with approval. “This estate meets my every approval, though Charles will own the final opinion on the matter. I shall give my wholehearted endorsement to Hazelwood, for I should love to be this estate’s mistress.”
Elizabeth could hear what Jane did not say, and she agreed with her sister, though she knew Mr. Bingley might not. The Bennet sisters—those who had any sense—knew they brought little but themselves to a marriage; given this, Elizabeth knew Jane felt obliged to bow to her husband’s wishes on such a matter. Mr. Bingley, however, was a man who wished to make his wife happy, no matter what riches she brought to the marriage, and he would never purchase an estate if he thought for an instant that Jane would not be happy there.
This supposition was proven when they joined the gentlemen again a little later at the agreed time. With a final look about the entrance hall, they bid the estate farewell and entered Mr. Darcy’s well-appointed carriage for the journey home. They drove on for a time, stopping at an inn in a small town known to Mr. Darcy, where they partook of a hearty supper before once again making their way back to the carriage for the final leg home. Though the conversation, mostly between Mr. Bingley and Jane, had consisted of their perception of what they had seen, one exchange above all illustrated Elizabeth’s conjecture.
“Should you wish it, my dear, we shall continue to search. There are other estates which might suit, including two Darcy and I have toured. Do you wish to see them yourself?”
Jane regarded her husband for a moment before she spoke. “In your opinion, are these other estates the equal of Hazelwood?”
“No,” replied Mr. Bingley. “But I should wish to keep all our options open and not make a precipitous decision.”
“That is prudent,” replied Jane. Then she turned to Mr. Darcy. “What of you, Mr. Darcy? Do you concur with my husband’s assessment?”
It was clear to Elizabeth that Mr. Darcy appreciated the way Jane had stated her question. Elizabeth had heard Miss Bingley exclaim about Mr. Darcy’s exceptional qualities enough times to know that the gentleman became uncomfortable when others made such references, and despite his greater experience, to put all her faith in Mr. Darcy’s opinion would suggest she did not trust her husband.
“I do, Mrs. Bingley,” said Mr. Darcy. “Though the other estates we toured are fine in their own ways, I believe the others have greater drawbacks attached to their situations which are not a concern with Hazelwood. Bingley and I agreed when we saw them that Hazelwood was the best option.”
“We did,” confirmed Mr. Bingley. “But if you do not prefer Hazelwood for whatever reason, we may continue to look. I should not wish to purchase anything not to your taste.”
Elizabeth turned to look out the window to hide her smile at the man’s eagerness to please his wife. Though she was everything good and lovely, Jane was a fortunate woman to be the object of such devotion from her husband.
“Hazelwood is to my taste, Charles,” replied Jane. “I found it everything pleasing. If you think it is the best we could obtain, then I trust your judgment.”
The beaming smile with which Mr. Bingley regarded his wife showed his esteem. “Excellent. Then perhaps Darcy and I should do our due diligence and make certain there is nothing we have overlooked. If that should not reveal another possibility, then I believe we should proceed with the purchase of Hazelwood.”
“It would be best if you move with haste, Bingley,” said Mr. Darcy. “Others will also note the estate’s quality, and they may not be so eager to look at other properties.”
“Excellent advice, my friend,” replied Mr. Bingley with a grateful nod. “Let us look into it on the morrow, for I have no desire to have another snap the property away from us while I am looking in another direction.”
While the conversation continued for some time, Elizabeth lost herself in her thoughts. Hazelwood was to be her sister’s new home, and Elizabeth could not wait. Though she had been in Derbyshire for only a matter of weeks, she knew it had come to feel like home to her. The memory of Hertfordshire and its charms was fading away, replaced with this new bit of paradise on earth.
Chapter XXIV
Focused though the Pemberley party’s attention had been on the matters before their immediate purview, the outside world soon intruded. Though one might wonder if such an intrusion would presage events that would distress the company, nothing could be further from the truth.
“A letter from Kitty,” said Elizabeth, looking at the missive in her hand. “It is addressed to both you and me, Jane, though I cannot say why.
“And it looks like it was misdirected at first,” added Elizabeth after a moment of inspection, “for Kitty wrote directions in a hand eerily resembling your husband’s.”
Anyone who had ever seen Mr. Bingley’s writing would understand Elizabeth’s jest, and the gentleman himself laughed the hardest of them all. Jane, however, was impatient.
“What does it say, Lizzy?”
Breaking the seal, Elizabeth unfolded the letter and read through Kitty’s words, the account written therein soon delighting her with their contents.
“Mr. Russell has proposed, and Kitty is now engaged!”
Jane exclaimed about her sister’s good fortune, and for a few moments the sisters chattered about it. Elizabeth had made Mr. Russell’s acquaintance for only a few moments, but what she had learned of him had been positive without exception. Of more importance, Uncle Gardiner had much good to say of the man, and Elizabeth trusted her uncle without reservation.
“Shall we reply to Kitty at once?” asked Jane. “I would wish her to understand we shall ensure that we are present for her wedding.”
Elizabeth laughed and agreed. “I expect Kitty knows this, but I am eager to congratulate her regardless. Let us write and send them together.”
So decided, the sisters retired to the sitting-room where they attend to their letter writing, which they then passed to the butler to post that morning. That did not prevent Jane from teasing her sister.
“Well, Lizzy, it appears you shall be the last unmarried Bennet daughter.”
“That is unsurprising, considering I am the youngest,” replied Elizabeth. “I am content to wait for my turn and appreciate when I possess the moniker ‘Miss
Bennet’ in fact, rather than borrowing it from Kitty.”
“Oh, Elizabeth,” said Georgiana, “I cannot imagine you will long bear that title, for a gentleman shall snap you up before long.”
Their friendship was lengthy by that point, and indications of Georgiana’s desire for a closer relationship had been growing of late. At that moment, Elizabeth noted her friend’s sly glance at her brother—who was engaged in conversation with Mr. Bingley, much to Elizabeth’s relief—the clearest sign she had as yet of Georgiana’s wishes. A few days later, an exchange between them removed all question.
“You have had much to say of Derbyshire, Elizabeth,” said Georgiana as they were walking in the gardens. “Has my home met every expectation or is there something we must do to induce your approval.”
Elizabeth recognized the teasing inherent in her friend’s words, but she was so contented at present that she could not find it within her to respond. “No, Georgiana, everything is excellent. You are blessed, my friend, to live in such a place as this. I believe I should be happy to stay in Derbyshire for the rest of my life if my sister will have me.”
“While I am certain Jane will hear nothing of you ever leaving her house while you are yet unmarried, can you think of no other options?”
Frowning, Elizabeth turned a questioning look on her friend. Georgiana, rather than respond, waited, a sense of expectation hovering about her. A moment’s thought sufficed to reveal to Elizabeth where her friend’s thoughts tended, but Elizabeth did not think it was proper to acknowledge any espoused hopes to the man’s sister.
“I believe Jane’s house is my destination at present. Perhaps something shall change my plans, but I shall be content with Jane until that happens.”
Georgiana did not like Elizabeth’s answer and was not hesitant to share her annoyance. “Perhaps you are happy with Jane’s company, but I know you are not blind, Elizabeth.”