Pippa recalled being tempted by several men before meeting Sean. Sean asked, “You’re not sorry, we agreed to help Mr. Collins research his sermon?”
“No. At least, not so far. And we had no choice, had we? We are indebted to Mister Collins, but are impoverished. Besides, I crossed the fingers of my other hand when I touched his Bible. To me, that has never counted as really being bound by a pledge sworn on the Good Book. Am I right?”
“I agree we had no choice. And I've always believed that crossed fingers invalidates a promise made. Besides, what we pledged on was a Church of England Bible, and neither of us belongs to any church.”
Pippa said, “Still, I pledge to you I will be a good girl and faithful wife, during our research and always.”
Sean promised her, “And during our research and always, I pledge to be a good boy.”
“And a faithful husband?”
Sean held her close in his arms to reassure her. “And a faithful husband,” he said, crossing his fingers.
Their pledges of mutual fidelity gave Sean cause to reflect. “We may either of us be tempted to stray as we are guests in the homes of some wealthy English. Their code of maintaining their English marriage vows may be a bit foreign to us.”
Pippa said, “In a pinch, we can recall our Irish marriage vows.”
“Splendid,” said Sean.
He reached under her bare posterior and pinched her. She giggled. Chapter Eight Sean and Pippa took an early morning stroll on Friday and found themselves in Longbourn where they went to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. They introduced themselves as friends of Mr. Collins. When the Irish could see this was not much to the Bennet’s pleasure, Sean explained about Mr. Collins officiating at their father’s funeral and that otherwise, they hardly knew him. They were then welcomed and invited to tea.
On their walk back to Meryton, the Irish saw a carriage at the side of the road. It was listing to one side, as one rear wheel had sunk into a mud hole. As they approached, they saw no coachman but a middle-aged couple, dressed like wealthy people, the woman looking quite distraught.
“A wheel got stuck,” the man said.
“Let me see if I can help,” said Sean.
He found a tree limb and used it to raise the carriage so the wheel was freed of the hole.
“We cannot thank you enough, sir,” said the woman.
“Allow me to introduce ourselves,” said the man. “I am Raymond Henderson and this is my wife, Lady Margaret.”
Sean introduced himself and Pippa as brother and sister, visitors from Ireland. He then noticed that Mrs. Henderson looked as if she might faint.
“A glass of water and a little rest would do Lady Henderson good,” said Pippa.
“I know of nowhere nearby,” said Mr. Henderson.
“We know people living nearby. Your coachman could take you there.”
“Our coachman has gone off to look for help,” said Lord Henderson. “Then, I can drive the coach and my sister can comfort Mrs. Henderson while I take us to Longbourn It is just a short way away. I am sure you would be welcome to rest awhile at the home of new friends of ours.”
Sean drove them to the Bennet’s, who were surprised to see the Irish again until Pippa explained. The Bennet’s daughters were not at home, having walked to Meryton to see what soldiers they might encounter there.
“By all means rest with us after your ordeal,” invited Mr. Bennet. “Mrs. Bennet, could we all have tea?”
Mrs. Bennet had her cook prepare tea, then sat in the parlor with her guests.
Sean introduced the road-weary travelers.
At hearing them introduced as Lord and Lady Henderson, Mrs. Bennet became more interested in them.
“The Henderson’s of Downtown Abbey?”
“The same,” said Lady Henderson pridefully.
They are worth at least fifteen thousand pounds a year, thought Mrs. Bennet. Did they have a son or two of marriage age? Sensing that Lady Henderson disapproved of her because of her lower social standing, Mrs. Bennet said, as tea arrived, “I’ve heard you’ve had servant trouble. One of your maids was ravaged and one of your man servants is in jail suspected of killing his wife or someone.”
“Merely rumors,” responded Mrs. Henderson. “Gossip. You know how some people gossip.”
“I am thankful I do not engage in such a pastime.”
Mr. Bennet remembered that Lord Henderson owned the only newspapers in the district and how inaccurate their news usually was.
“A cigar, Mr. Bennet?” asked Lord Henderson, offering one.
“I should enjoy a smoke, thank you.”
The gentlemen sat smoking while their wives sparred. “Mr. Bennet and I have been blessed with having five daughters, three married to fine gentlemen, or at least two of them are fine gentlemen, and two daughters as yet single.”
Mr. Bennet knew that the spouse not regarded as being a gentleman to be Mr. Wickham.
Mrs. Bennet said, “Our as-yet unmarried daughters are most beautiful and accomplished.”
And the silliest, said Mr. Wickham silently. “We have only one child, a grown daughter,” said Lady Henderson. “A beautiful young woman and very accomplished who is married to a tobacco plantation owner in Virginia, in the colonies. She now resides there with him.”
Mrs. Bennet’s hopes sank like a rock in a pond.
“So you are quite alone here?”
“I have an older brother living on an estate next to ours,” said Lord Henderson. “He is, unfortunately, quite sickly, as well as being both blind and deaf.”
Mrs. Bennet did not know why, but her spirits rose upon hearing that the elder Mr. Henderson was in failing health.
“Pardon my asking a personal question, but are you regular?” asked Mrs. Bennet of Lady Henderson.
Regular what?, their husbands wondered. “You mean in my morning call of nature?” asked Lady Henderson, not objecting at all to discussing the subject. “I find that being regular each morning is very essential to my good health.”
“As do I. Especially if my morning duty is of dark color and firm consistency.”
“Most assuredly,” agreed Lady Henderson.
Mr. Bennet and Lord Henderson looked at each other with wonder, feeling a sense of mutual camaraderie. Had they, basically, married the same woman? Chapter Nine On Saturday morning, while the young people from Ireland were waiting for Mr. Darcy’s carriage to arrive for them at the inn in Meryton, to take them to Pemberley, Jane Bingley was riding at Netherfield Park while her husband was sleeping-in. Perhaps he had stayed up beyond his endurance the evening before with gentlemen friends, playing whist, a card game for which he had little ability or interest.
Mr. Bingley, who had earlier rented the Netherfield mansion and estate, purchased it shortly after his marriage to Jane Bennett, with some financial assistance from Mr. Darcy as a wedding present.
Jane had gotten into a routine of riding every morning, and was supremely happy riding in the May morning sun. She liked riding with her husband, but he usually went riding with Mr. Darcy, and since Elizabeth preferred walking to horseriding, Jane had gotten used to riding alone. She did, however, prefer company.
Jane was not only still happily in love with the handsome and most agreeable Mr. Bingley, she loved him twice as much, or more. He was easy to love, easy to please, and seemed to take the greatest pleasure in pleasing her. He most assuredly pleased her when they were in bed together, since recovering from hives, as she believed she pleased him.
As for his general affinity to please people, Mr. Bingley seemed to live to please everyone with whom he came in contact. Sometimes Mrs. Bingley despaired that he was perhaps too agreeable. But she sensed that she most assuredly did share the dominating character of his nature in that she too only sought to please and see the good in others. She did not seek challenge in relationships of any kind, preferring amiability. Her father, Mr. Bennet, had assured her that such sensibility made for a happy marriage. Even, as he had told her,
thinking of his association with Mrs. Bennet, if one has to grit one’s teeth to be amiable.
Who is that riding toward me?, Jane wondered. It was another young woman, perhaps even younger than she. Within minutes, the horsewoman was almost beside her. Now Jane saw that the rider was still just a girl, probably in her late teens. Her long black hair cascaded down over her shoulders and her deep green eyes wore a very friendly smile.
“Good day,” said the girl. “It’s so beautiful here. It reminds me of Ireland, my homeland. I’ve only left it a few days ago and yet am already homesick for its green hills. I hope you do not think me too forward, speaking to you without being introduced. I’ve been told I am perhaps too familiar, upon first meeting. My name is Pippa O’Reilly.”
“Not at all,” said Jane, regarding the girl’s informality. “I find such openness to be refreshing.”
They reached out to firmly shake hands. “Pippa is such an unusual, but lovely name. I’ve never been to Ireland but am longing to go there. My name is Jane Bingley, and these meadows and hills are part of my husband’s estate, called Netherfield Park.”
Pippa looked as if it was new information, but knew it all along. They had not met by chance, thanks to Mr. Collins telling her and Sean of the comings and goings on those to be researched.
“I did not mean to slight Netherfield Park. Its landscape is at least as beautiful and green as in Ireland.”
Jane appreciated hearing that.
“What brings you to England?”
“My brother and I came for our father’s funeral.”
“I am so sorry.” “He was a minister, lecturing in London when his heart failed him. My brother and I knew he had a close friend here, also a minister. Perhaps you know the Reverend Collins? He officiated at the funeral at his parsonage not far from here.”
“Indeed, Mr. Bingley and I know Mr. Collins. He will inherit my parents' home when my father passes on. Since Mr. Collins is the closest male heir in the family, according to British law he is the legal heir, rather than my mother or four sisters and I.”
“That hardly sounds fair. I am so sorry.” “Our callous solicitor told us, ‘Life is often unfair.’ I could have throttled him, but have come to live with this disappointment. Now I am happily married to a fairly rich man, and so too is my sister Lizzy, and our sister Lydia’s husband is getting financial aid from Lizzy’s most wealthy husband. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
The Irish lass smiled. “I’ve been told that people find it easy to open up to me.”
Jane agreed. There was a sincerity about the girl that made her easy to talk to, even to confide in.
Your countenance is exceedingly appealing, Jane thought. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful young girl, even in London. “My brother and I are staying at The Royal Arms in Meryton. We’ll only be staying a few days. We may find a flat in London and then just go back to Ireland for our things. We have no real employment in Ireland nor close living relatives, so the move might be the right thing for us. My brother plans to study for the ministry, and I would like to be a teacher or a governess.”
“I think you would be fine as either and believe you would find residing in London to be enjoyable. I have no real ambition, except to be a good wife and mother. Most English women, except those of the working class, are just wives and mothers.”
She is definitely not of the working class, Pippa surmised
“I expect to become a mother this fall, as does my sister Lizzy.” “I think you will make a fine mother. That ambition is in my future. First, I will have to fall in love with a caring man who loves me back. So far that has not been easy. I keep wanting to find someone as caring and loving as my brother.”
Mrs. Bingley smiled. “I’d like to meet him. I’m close to my sisters, at least to one of them, Lizzy. It must be very comforting to have a brother who cares about you as much as yours does.”
“He’s back at the inn, working in the kitchen to earn part of our lodging. I would be helping him, but he insisted I rent a horse and go riding, to rest after yesterday’s ordeal.”
“The funeral.”
Pippa nodded yes. “Perhaps you and your brother would like to be my husband’s and my guests for a few days at Netherfield?”
Pippa smiled, and Jane thought the girl sighed slightly with relief, for some unexplained reason. “I’m sure we would admire that very much.”
It did not surprise Mrs. Bingley that she would make the invitation on such short acquaintance. There was a sincerity about the girl from Ireland that touched her. She felt she would like to spend more time with her, getting to know her. She missed her closeness to Elizabeth and had hoped to find a new friend after her marriage, but had not after six months. Perhaps Pippa would be that friend, if she and her brother settled in London. She would love to attend plays and concerts with her, to show her the town and take her to restaurants.
She could even try to help her become a teacher, and certainly a governess. Lady Catherine de Bourgh might help with that. It did not surprise Mrs. Bingley that she would make the invitation on such short acquaintance. There was a sincerity about the girl from Ireland that touched her. She felt she would like to spend more time with her, getting to know her.
She missed her closeness to Elizabeth and had hoped to find a new friend after her marriage, but had not after six months. Perhaps Pippa would be that friend, if she and her brother settled in London. She would love to attend plays and concerts with her, to show her the town and take her to restaurants.
What came back to Mrs. Bingley often as they talked was how beautiful the Irish lass was. It led to her wondering if her brother Mr. O’Reilly was as attractive a young man as she was a young woman. She became almost anxious, eager to meet him. She smiled to herself, thinking she had no aversion to handsome young men. It was one of the main reasons she had almost immediately become attracted to her future husband. She was confident that she would not become over-attracted to even the most handsomest man, just as she was sure her husband could not do more than admire the young Irishwoman.
“I’m about ready to ride back to Netherfield. Would you care to come with me? I’d like you to see it, and to meet my husband.” “I should like that very much,” said Pippa. “My brother and I are free until early afternoon when we are invited to tea at the cottage of a vicar and his wife, and to meet friends of theirs. We shall have to get there by carriage because it is some distance from here.”
“You might know the vicar’s friends. They are Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.” “Indeed I know them!” said Jane excitedly. “She is Elizabeth, my favorite sister, and he Mr. Darcy, her husband of only six months!”
What an amazing coincidence, Jane. thought. It must be providential that we met. Pippa smiled and nodded, as if she knew something that Jane did not.
They rode side-by-side to Netherfield. After dismounting, a groom took their horses, and Jane took Pippa to the manor house. Pippa was suitably impressed with the exterior and then even more when shown the inside.
Mr. Bingley was up and dressed for riding.
“Charles, this is a new acquaintance, Pippa O’Reilly, from Ireland,” said Jane. Mr. Bingley was visibly taken by the girl’s beauty. His wife thought he almost gasped. He offered his hand and the lass gave him a polite handshake. Why, he wondered, did he feel like instantly taking her in his arms and embracing her? It was easy for him to understand why, she was so beautiful, and in a most refreshing way. He felt he had to restrain himself. If only he could nail his boots to the floor, or tie his hands behind him.
Why did his hands begin to itch, he wondered. And then the rest of him? Jane noticed and put her husband’s reaction to the girl down to his natural affinity for wanting to please people, to like them and they like him. She did not feel any jealousy. It was just his way. But she did think he held the girl’s hand a bit longer than necessary, or perhaps was even proper.
Pippa gave Mr. Bingley a small smile. A conquest?, she wondere
d. Mr. Collins had approved of her to help Mr. O’Reilly in his sermon research even without knowing she was rather a flirt.
The three of them engaged in small talk, getting to know a little about each other and Pippa’s brother. Pippa sat in a cushioned wing chair while the Bingley’s sat on the couch in their parlor. Mr. Bingley began wishing the lass was sitting beside him on the couch and his wife was in the wing chair.
Mrs. Bingley began to sense that her husband was overly attentive to everything the lass said, even the slightest morsel of conversation. But he looked at the clock on the mantel over the fireplace and frowned.
“I agreed with one of my friends last evening to lunch today with him at the inn in Meryton.”
Mr. Bingley got up reluctantly and bowed his head to the lass. It was more of a grand bow, Jane noticed, than he ever gave, even to Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Jane said, “I've invited Pippa and her brother to spend a few days with us.”
“I… we… my wife and I,” Mr. Bingley stammered, “will look forward to your stay.” “Only for a brief visit,” Pippa said. “My brother and I will be going to London soon, to secure a flat, then return to Ireland for our belongings. It is very kind of you both to invite us to be your house guests.”
“It will be our pleasure,” Mr. Bingley assured her. He was tempted to lunge at her, to ravish her or, at the very least embrace her and kiss her hand, but exercised temperance. It would not please Mrs. Bingley. His wife would think that to be inappropriate behavior on such short acquaintance. Instead, he bowed again, then departed the room and the house, slapping his riding crop against his thigh, as if flagellating himself for his intemperate, even lustful, thoughts. He wished he could have stayed.
Jane had noted her husband’s behavior, but it did not trouble her. She knew Mr. Bingley quite well, she thought. He would not stray because it would not please her. But if anyone could lead him into temptation, it would be the beauteous Irish girl. Yet, another part of her cautioned that she be watchful of him, and the Irish girl.
Mr. Bingley squirmed in his chair at lunch in Meryton. His friend asked,
“Are you ill?”
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