Such Peculiar Providence

by Meg Osborne

  “He has a small property in Derbyshire, near his own, that he has agreed to lease us for a year at quite a reasonable rate.” Jane coloured. “I am afraid I do not understand all the pertinent details: it was organised by my Uncle Gardiner, and my sister Lizzy, who has much greater business understanding than I!”

  “Indeed.” Caroline sniffed. Business understanding was a polite synonym for manipulative. As if she had not been able to tell Eliza Bennet well possessed that trait from the very first moment she laid eyes on her! She drew her lips into a tight line. So Eliza Bennet had somehow schemed enough to ensure Mr Darcy provide a home for her family. Why not go the whole way, and convince him to marry her too! Her heart sank. Surely this must be Eliza’s own eventual plan! Even she would struggle to ensnare so upright and sensible a gentleman as Mr Darcy after barely two or three meetings. But a whole year, living in such close proximity? Why, it would be too easy for Eliza to enact her scheme.

  Caroline let go of Jane, and turned instead to her brother, with an imperious tilt of her head.

  “Well, you must not let us impinge any more on your time. Come along Charles, we must get Miss Bennet home so that she might help her family with their packing.” She nodded, frostily, feeling a momentary glimmer of something that might have been regret, or perhaps satisfaction, at the way Jane Bennet’s features fell, momentarily. Still, Caroline had her way and the party turned almost immediately towards Gracechurch Street.

  “Will we see you before you leave?”

  Mr Bingley was the one to voice the question, his voice low and sounding, to Caroline, as if he was a young child once more. Ordinarily, she might have felt some sympathy, for, despite her occasional irritations with him, she did care very much for her brother and wish him happiness. In light of Eliza Bennet’s scheming, however, Caroline’s heart hardened. Surely Jane was cut from the same cloth as her sister. She, too, sought to ensnare a wealthy husband as quickly as was possible. Well, in this instant, Eliza’s plans would be the undoing of her sister’s, and Caroline felt a glimmer of triumph as she spoke, answering the question before Jane’s lips even parted.

  “I expect not, for I do not doubt your family will be eager to move and be settled. Still, I suppose you might write to us, Miss Bennet. What a pity that you will be moving such a long way away so soon after our meeting. Still, it is the way of Providence, and we cannot stand in opposition!”

  Chapter Ten

  On any other day, Fitzwilliam Darcy enjoyed the afternoons when Georgiana played for him. They had grown rarer of late, with his increasing workload, but upon his return from London, it became clear how much brother and sister had missed one another even during their relatively short separation, for Georgiana had made this suggestion and Darcy accepted it almost in one breath. Still, despite Georgiana deliberately selecting her brother’s particular favourite pieces and showcasing her considerable talent, improved with much practice, which always pleased his diligent sensibilities, Darcy could not keep his eyes from straying to the window. Every few minutes he fancied he heard a sound, imagined the sight of a carriage approaching, even though his rational brain reminded him that even if he did hear a carriage, it would not belong to the Bennet family, who would arrive directly at their new home and only come to Pemberley if there was a problem. His eyes flew to the window again. What if there was a problem? They would not endure it in silence, surely? Nor waste time in going through his groundsman. His brow furrowed. Had he made it clear enough to Mr Gardiner that he himself would ensure their comfort in their new home? Had that man bothered to impress his concerns onto the family assured them that they must not stand on ceremony, nor -

  “I give up!” Georgiana’s exclamation was accompanied by a cacophony of sound where she sank both hands, flat, on the keys, a signal of her despair.

  Darcy looked at her, concerned, but soon saw her smile and took her despair to be good-natured. She pushed her stool back from the piano and floated over to him.

  “I refuse to keep playing for so disinterested an audience.”

  “I am very interested!” Darcy protested. “What was the name of the piece you were just playing? The air...” he trailed off. Even if he had been listening intently he would be no wiser as to the names of the pieces Georgiana played, yet he had not been and his sister knew it. He hung his head, mumbling an apology.

  “Forgive me. My mind is elsewhere this afternoon.”

  “It is on the arrival of our guests!” Georgiana said. “Or do you think I have not noticed your gaze straying to the window at five-minute intervals?”

  “They are our tenants, not our guests,” Darcy corrected her, irritably. He did not counter her assertion about his window-gazing, though.

  “Tenants.” Georgiana exhaled dismissively. “Yet they are not strangers.”

  “They may as well be.” Darcy was getting uncomfortable with his sister’s line of questioning. It had been the same topic Georgianna had pursued without ceasing since his return from London. His announcement that he had agreed to lease Rose Cottage to a family he had met in London first captured her interest, but ever since he had made the mistake of mentioning the family consisted of a recently widowed mother and her five daughters, her curiosity had been insatiable. How did you meet them? What are their names? What are they like? She did not say what possessed you to lease the cottage to such a family, but she clearly wondered at her usually predictable brother’s surprising act of generosity. She pressed him for information, certain there must be some deeper reason and Darcy had been by turns irritated and saddened at the thought that his own sister though him incapable of generosity without personal gain. She denied this, and instead had changed her approach, advocating the opportunity for friendship the arrival of a family of five daughters might offer her.

  “Do you know when they will arrive?” Georgiana asked, steering away from mention of either friend or tenant for innocuous, unspecific “they”.

  “Today.” Darcy glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Soon, I imagine.” He did not consult the note he had received, ostensibly from Mr Gardiner but boasting a particularly delicate and feminine hand. He imagined it penned by one of the Miss Bennets or their mother, but somehow, in a way, he could not explain he felt a strange certainty its true author was Elizabeth. It had been perfunctory, nothing more than a short outline of the journey they would take from London and their projected arrival time, barring any delay or difficulty on the road. As far as Darcy was aware the roads had been clear, the weather fair, so, all things being equal, today would be the day his new tenants arrived.

  “We must go over and welcome them,” Georgiana said with a decided nod. “And maybe take a basket.” She frowned. “What do you think they would like?”

  “They are not a charity case, Georgiana,” Darcy said. “They are fri - they are a family not unlike our own.” Dash it all, the dreaded “friends” had almost escaped his own lips! “They have fallen on difficult times, on account of a bereavement, but any poverty they experience at present is to do with nothing more than bad luck.”

  Georgiana’s eyebrows rose. Darcy did not normally make any mention of “luck”, indeed he rather despised those who blamed external forces for any misfortune that befell someone. He valued hard work and was rather more of the persuasion that misfortune might be got over if a fellow possessed strong enough will and character to work at it.

  “Providence.” He offered. This was hardly better. “The type of misfortune that often falls to unmarried women lacking father or brother to act on their behalf.” He set his jaw. “As I am a brother I know only too well the hardship of not having one. I had a cottage standing empty, and a year’s rent will not go unused in repairing the after-effects of the storm...why do you persist in laughing at me for a decision which is nought but Christian charity wedded to good business sense?”

  “I am not laughing!” Georgiana’s protest might have been a little more effective, had her shoulders not been shaking, and her eyes not danced with am
usement as she offered it. “I do wonder at your determination to justify your actions, though. Recall, brother, I have never once criticised you for this or any other decision you have made regarding your business or our life.” She paused a moment in reflection. “Well, perhaps once or twice. In any case, if you think a thing sensible or wise or otherwise beneficial in the realm of charity, personal life or business, who am I to speak against it?” She patted his arm and he, at length, relented into a grim smile. “Now, brother, whether you have met Mrs Bennet and her daughters one time or one hundred it is still many more than I! Help me to decide what gifts to take them, as we would any tenants newly arrived after a long journey.” She smiled. “And we might walk over there together this afternoon to deliver them ourselves!”

  “WHAT AN EXCEEDINGLY long journey it has been!”

  Mrs Bennet’s first words, upon entering the cottage that would be their new home, were less than impressive.

  “Yes, Mama,” Elizabeth answered, shortly. “But what of the house? Do not you find it pleasant?”

  “It is a little small...” Mrs Bennet began, glancing around the sitting room. “But not entirely ill-appointed. I do think it a shame we could not find some way of staying in London...”

  “As do I!” Lydia chimed in.

  “I only wish there had been a way,” Jane said, with a brave smile. “But for the insurmountable obstacle of the cost!” She turned to Lizzy. “I think this is a wonderful alternative if London were not possible. Think of the new places to explore, and the new friends we might meet!”

  Sweet Jane! Impulsively, Lizzy threw her arm around her sister’s shoulders and hugged her. She had heard, if her mother and sister’s had not, the hitch in Jane’s voice when she referred to new friends. She well knew the sacrifices Jane had made in leaving London, and Mr Bingley, behind. If only that could have been helped! It had crossed Lizzy’s mind, fleetingly, to inquire as to whether Jane would prefer to remain at Gracechurch Street to help their aunt and uncle in caring for their own brood of unruly children, but she had known, had such a suggestion been made, both Kitty and Lydia would have demanded to stay too. Mrs Bennet would not have countenanced separating their family and the whole party would remain, passing up the first real opportunity for a home that they had come across in months. And how could I have countenanced coming here without my closest friend? Lizzy nursed this private, selfish thought to her chest, but she knew that however much a trial it had been on the journey to continually be the voice of optimism and encouragement to a mother who was prone to despair and two young sisters who had perfected the art of complaining, it would have been far harder to bear without Jane beside her. Jane, whose perpetually sunny disposition made even the grey, overcast aspect of Derbyshire a pleasant one. Jane, who, even at this moment, was pacing about the room and making suggestions as to where their own belongings might happily reside, once Uncle Gardiner sent them on.

  “Here, Mama! Would not your embroidery brighten up this dark corner beautifully? And, look! If we move this chair - so, and straighten this desk against the wall - why, it makes the whole room seem bigger!”

  Only Mary was silent, staring about the room in a manner of contentment, punctuated every so often with a mournful little sigh.

  “What is the mater, Mary?” Elizabeth asked, half fearing the reply. If Mary too turned against their new home then it would only further fan the flames of Mama’s disappointment.

  “Oh, nothing,” Mary said, with a staunch grimace. “It is a perfectly serviceable home, and far better than many might expect.” She took a breath and, forestalling a recitation on Fordyce’s opinions of earthly extravagance and heavenly bliss, Lizzy jumped in.

  “I am glad you approve.”

  “I only wish there were somewhere for a piano....”

  “Why?” Lydia asked, with a scornful laugh. “Do you intend on purchasing one? With what fortune, pray?”

  “I merely thought...Mr Collins does not play, nor is he married, so I cannot see him having any particular use for the piano...” Mary’s voice grew smaller as she spoke, eventually trailing away to nothing.

  “Perhaps it is something to think about in the future, Mary, dear,” Jane said, exchanging a glance with Elizabeth. “We are only just arrived, and I am sure it will take us some time to settle in. Nothing is decided quite yet!”

  “Except for who is to share bedrooms!” Lydia crowed. “Kitty and I have already decided we shall have the south facing room. It is only large enough for two, so Mary will have to share with you and Jane, Lizzy. Or Mama!” She laughed at the notion, and Elizabeth bit back her own cross response. She had half imagined claiming this room for she and Jane to share, for, being at the back of the house it might afford them some quiet and privacy. That was no doubt precisely the reason why Lydia demands it! Still, she bit her tongue. If the choice of bedroom would settle Lydia and Kitty both, and dispose them towards contentment in their new home, then she would happily surrender to their whim.

  “It is a pretty room, Lydia. I am sure you and Kitty will happily destroy it within the hour.” She turned towards Mary. “You are more than welcome to share with Jane and I. That bedroom is the largest anyway!” She winked, ignoring Mrs Bennet’s reflexive tutting at such an indelicate gesture. “And Mama’s is the best room of all, as befits the matriarch of our happy home.” She dropped a penitent kiss on her mother’s thin cheek and flew to the hall. “Shall I find us some tea? Our servants disappeared almost as soon as they had greeted us. I wonder if we have frightened them into hiding!”

  “Don’t speak such nonsense, Elizabeth!” Mrs Bennet paused. “But see if we might have some morsel of food in addition. Some fruitcake, perhaps, or a little toast.”

  Lizzy flew to her task, eager for some activity after their long journey and the perpetual tension of playing peacemaker across so many different dispositions as resided within the Bennet household. She soon despaired of finding even one servant and ventured out of doors to see if they were lurking in the garden. Here, at last, she was granted a small victory, for she saw both ladies: a sturdy housekeeper and the cook bent over a half-dead plant in the overgrown kitchen garden.

  “Oh, Miss Elizabeth!” The housekeeper turned, apologetically, towards her. “What can I do for you?”

  Lizzy relayed the requests for tea and sustenance, but before either housekeeper or cook to undertake their assignments, both ladies straightened, before employing deep curtseys. Lizzy frowned, wondering what strange custom it was to offer even more formal a greeting after being in conversation with her for a full five minutes.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Elizabeth.”

  A low male voice startled Elizabeth so that she spun quickly around, and realised, with embarrassment, that it was this gentleman the servants were greeting, and quite properly.

  “Oh, Mr Darcy!” she squawked, batting some imaginary speck of dust from her cheeks and hoping to hide her blush with the motion. “Good afternoon.”

  He was taller than she remembered, and more handsome, although that may have been to do with the absence of a scowl. Once greeted, his smile fled, his eyebrows lowered, and he was himself once more. Ah yes, I recall you more clearly now. Lizzy’s smile widened as she acknowledged a young lady at his side. Pretty and fair, this young lady curtseyed briefly and then held out a basket.

  “This is my sister,” Darcy blurted out, as if realising his error in not introducing her sooner. “Georgiana Darcy. Georgiana, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  “Welcome to Pemberley!” Georgiana said, her voice musical and cheery. “We brought a few things to help you get settled in.”

  “We?” Lizzy could not keep her eyes from straying to Mr Darcy’s face, and he abruptly looked away. “You are very kind, Miss Darcy. Thank you!” Turning back, she realised both servants had fled at their first opportunity and drew a breath. “Come in, both of you, although I am afraid we are all a little exhausted with travelling -”

  “We would not wish to disturb you
.”

  It was Mr Darcy’s voice, but his eyes refused to settle on her, meeting her gaze for a moment, then darting away again, so that, had they not been all but alone, she would have wondered whether his words were directed towards her at all.

  “You do not!” Lizzy laughed and was cheered to see Georgiana’s own smile widen. “My sisters and mother would very much like to see you. And to meet you, Miss Darcy. Please, do come in. I have just requested some tea be brought, so I will ask them to bring enough for two more. Are you hungry at all?”

  Darcy shook his head, but Georgiana elbowed him in the side.

  “What providence! I included some of our own plum cake in the basket. It is the best for miles around, I assure you, and will go quite wonderfully with tea...!”

  The two ladies walked companionably back towards the house, and it was not until they had gone some steps that Lizzy glanced back to assure herself that Mr Darcy had followed them. He kept a short distance behind, Lizzy noticed, and the frown he wore seemed darker still.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Goodness me, how different you are for brother and sister!”

  Darcy grimaced at this observation, made by Mrs Bennet as if she were the first person ever to make such a statement. Repetition had bred familiarity, and Darcy sighed, weary of hearing everybody comment with such surprise that a brother and sister might not be identical in appearance or temperament. Georgiana laughed, handling the moment better than he ever would.

  “Yes! And tell me, Mrs Bennet, which do you feel has benefitted from heredity?”

  Darcy rolled his eyes skywards as the young ladies giggled and Mrs Bennet fumbled for an answer that would satisfy both charges, little realising the comment had been made in jest.