A Favorite Daughter

by P. O. Dixon

  Chapter 17

  Darcy’s late arrival at Netherfield, the night before, followed by his early rise that morning, allowed him to elude Miss Caroline Bingley’s company a while longer. He had no doubt how eager the young lady must be to see him.

  For the time being, his time was better spent with his friend Bingley touring the estate. After a lengthy excursion on horseback, the two returned to the manor house at a rather leisurely pace.

  “Netherfield is a fine place, Charles. Even as a tenant, I imagine you will suffer immense pride in residing at such a place is this.”

  Bingley’s face beamed. “I am relieved to know you approve. I admit to having suffered some doubt in that regard. Your good opinion is not easily bestowed.”

  Darcy frowned. “I would like to think I am not so fastidious as you suggest.”

  The younger man shrugged. “I suppose you have undergone a metamorphosis of sorts. Who would have supposed that you of all people would have formed an acquaintance with my country neighbors? I do not suppose your aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh approves of your having such connections. I recall your having met the two Bennet daughters at Rosings Park, did you not?”

  “In truth, my aunt does not approve of anyone who does not readily bend to her will, regardless of one’s station in life. She and I were bound to come to a parting of the ways once I made it perfectly clear to her that my cousin Anne and I are never going to be married.”

  Bingley laughed a little. “So far as my sister Caroline is concerned, she never suffered a shred of doubt in that regard. She clings to the hope that your future lies with her.”

  Darcy scoffed. “Pray, do not remind me.”

  “I do not suppose she will be pleased knowing that you and the Bennets are already acquainted. Her greatest wish, aside from claiming your heart for herself, is that you will prevail on me to see the error of my ways.”

  “What do you mean? Is she still so opposed to your letting the estate?”

  Bingley nodded. “Well, there is that. There is also the matter of my feelings for Miss Jane Bennet.” The younger man exhaled a long breath. “You mentioned having dined with her family. Do you not agree that she is an angel?”

  Darcy suffered no surprise in hearing his friend speak this way. Miss Bennet was indeed lovely – just the sort of angel with whom Bingley had a habit of falling in love.

  Not wanting to point out the many things Caroline Bingley, no doubt, had used in her own arguments against her brother once again falling in love, Darcy said, “Yes, I must confess she is very pretty. As are all the Bennet sisters - in their own way, of course.”

  “I have heard it said that Miss Elizabeth is the brightest jewel in the country, in beauty as well as in intellect. I can hardly wait to meet her. Shall we call on Longbourn this morning?”

  As much as Darcy wanted to see Elizabeth, he could not quite say the same for other members of her family. The hours spent in close confines with Mr. Collins on the journey from Kent to Longbourn had taught him just how fortunate Elizabeth was to have escaped such an alliance.

  Making matters worse, the gentleman had presumed an acquaintance with Darcy that in any other circumstance would be deemed inconceivable.

  Then there was the matter of Elizabeth’s mother and her two younger sisters. Darcy had no choice but to don a mask of haughtiness mixed with aloofness with Mrs. Bennet. Else, he was sure she would have overwhelmed him with her adoration and affected approbation, the likes of which he had received from every other eager mamma, with a single daughter in want of a rich husband, whom he had ever met.

  As for the younger sisters, they were two of the silliest creatures in all of England. Elizabeth had warned him as much on more than one occasion. He thought she was exaggerating.

  If only she were.

  During the limited time he spent in company with them, he was convinced the wild, untamed spirits of the younger and the fickle mindedness of the other were the perfect recipe for a scandal in the making. He prayed his instincts were wrong.

  The sooner Miss Mary Bennet married Mr. William Collins, the sooner the Bennet family’s burdens would be relieved, and the sooner Miss Elizabeth could dedicate herself to her own happiness.

  Her happiness with me, part of him silently considered even if he was not quite ready to admit it to the part of himself that knew better than to fall in love too soon.

  Darcy said, “As much as I might wish to delay my imminent reunion with your family, I did not suppose I would ever hear the end of it if I did not make an appearance at breakfast this morning. I am afraid our calling on Longbourn must wait.”

  “What do you mean you are already acquainted with my brother’s neighbor?” Miss Caroline Bingley inquired after hearing about the circumstances of Darcy’s arrival in Hertfordshire. “How is such a thing even possible, and why on earth have I heard nothing of this before now?”

  “I met Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary Bennet when we were all in Kent,” was Darcy’s reply. “They were guests at my aunt’s home.”

  “Why! I had no idea the Bennets enjoyed such lofty connections!” she exclaimed with energy. “Having met them, I can scarcely believe it. I have never met with anyone so uncouth, so ill-mannered, so wanting. That mother of theirs is an abomination. If it were not for her being as blind as she is to my brother’s trifling infection with her eldest, I dare say she would be planning a wedding here at Netherfield as we speak.”

  “Caroline!” Bingley exclaimed, no doubt concerned that his sister would once again cite Miss Bennet’s blindness as a reason to consider her wanting.

  Caroline paid her brother no mind. “No doubt, Mrs. Bennet will be throwing her next eldest daughter at Charles now that she has returned. What can you tell me about the second one, Mr. Darcy?”

  Setting aside his cup of piping hot coffee, Darcy cleared his throat. “Having spent significant time in Miss Elizabeth’s company, I would have to say she is one of the most handsome, most intelligent, and most charming women of my acquaintance.”

  It was now Miss Bingley’s turn to set her cup aside. Picking up her linen napkin, she brushed it against her lips. “My goodness. I am all astonishment,” she then replied. “Such a glowing assessment as that begs the question - pray, when am I to wish you joy?”

  That was precisely the question which he had expected Miss Bingley to ask. Her own infatuation with him had not abated one bit in all the time he had known her, even though he had done nothing to encourage her.

  “I knew you would be wishing me joy,” he said without admitting his purpose in putting her on notice as regarded his opinion of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  “And to think mere moments earlier you were positing an alliance between Charles and this intriguing Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” opined Mr. Hurst, taking everyone by surprise what with his preference to avoid such contentious banter. He had much rather keep himself to himself.

  “Hush, Brother-in-law,” Caroline demanded. “I am waiting to hear a more definitive reply from our Mr. Darcy.”

  “Let me just say this, Miss Bingley. When the time comes to be wishing me joy, I am sure you will be among the first to know. No, make that among the second to know.”

  Chapter 18

  Home again. How wonderful it felt to utter two of the sweetest sounding words to Elizabeth’s ear. That her family’s fate was all but secured, what with the imminent wedding between Mary and Mr. Collins, Elizabeth suffered sentiments akin to elation in saying them. At long last, the fear of the unknown as regarded the estate was gone, never to be thought of again. At least, she hoped so. She silently lamented neither Mr. Collins’s nor Mary’s broaching the possibility of a marriage by special license.

  Now that Mr. Collins and my sister are engaged, time is of the essence. Whether by adherence to decorum or by his character, Elizabeth’s future brother-in-law intended to stay in the inn in Meryton until the happy occasion.

  At least there is that.

  She really wanted the wedding to be over
and done with, for she could not help but dread the possibility, however minuscule, that something might happen to derail the scheme. What that might be, Elizabeth had no idea. All she knew was nothing was really certain until it was indeed certain. During such times, she reminded herself that Mr. Collins was still a young man, and as best she could tell, he was the epitome of good health, as was her sister Mary. She worried not that an untimely death might upset things.

  Soon enough, the Banns will be read, and our family’s happiness will be complete, and my tacit promise to my father to see to my family’s wellbeing will be satisfied. I really do like to think I have done my best by my family since Papa’s passing. Mary’s impending nuptials are the icing on the cake.

  In the meantime, reacquainting herself with the goings-on in Hertfordshire was uppermost in Elizabeth’s mind. So much had happened since she and Mary went away to Kent, the most auspicious occasion of all, of course, being the arrival of the Netherfield party. Charlotte had done an admirable job of keeping Elizabeth abreast of the newcomers and all their predilections. Still, nothing could take the place of meeting the infamous Mr. Bingley and his peculiar relations for oneself.

  The matter of the Bingleys was the object of discussion that very day. Elizabeth, Jane and Charlotte were all present. An air of nostalgia-filled the room, as warm and cheery as ever before.

  Charlotte said, “Dearest Lizzy, I am more than happy to espouse on the amiable Mr. Charles Bingley and his pernicious sisters, Mrs. Louisa Hurst and Miss Caroline Bingley. But first, I must insist upon your telling us all there is to know about Mr. Bingley’s friend, Mr. Darcy.”

  It appeared word had spread throughout the neighborhood at a much quicker pace than Elizabeth would have preferred that Mr. Darcy, the very wealthy and often heralded imminent addition to the Netherfield party, had finally arrived in Hertfordshire with the Bennet sisters in tow. What could it mean, everyone would want to know, or so Elizabeth supposed.

  Even Elizabeth was hard-pressed to supply an answer. There was much that she might tell were she indeed capable of finding the right words. Would anyone honestly believe that in bringing them to Hertfordshire, the gentleman had merely been serving the role of a friend?

  “It is a testament to the fact that it is indeed a small world,” Elizabeth replied, much the same as she intended to do whenever she was asked about the scheme. “Mary and I met Mr. Darcy in Kent when we were all guests at his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s home. You can imagine our surprise upon learning that Mr. Darcy was connected to our new neighbors at Netherfield Park. I suppose it only made sense for him to offer to bring us along to Hertfordshire, thus sparing us the expense as well as the inconvenience of a public coach.”

  Charlotte said, “I suspect you are concealing far more than you are revealing, dearest Lizzy. However, I shall not press you to say more. Time has a way of satisfying such curiosities, after all. Perhaps there shall be three weddings here at Longbourn in the not too distant future.”

  Elizabeth laughed a little at her friend’s conjecture. “Oh, there will be at least one wedding to be sure. I would not count on a second if you suppose it will occur between Mr. Bingley’s friend, Mr. Darcy, and me. As for a supposed third, what on earth are you suggesting, dear Charlotte?”

  Jane, who had been silent for the most part, said, “I am afraid Charlotte is positing an alliance between Mr. Bingley and me.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, Jane! Pray such speculation is well-founded. I know I have yet to make Mr. Bingley’s acquaintance, but given all I have heard, he seems the consummate gentleman.”

  “If Charlotte is the source of your intelligence, I can well imagine all you have been told about Mr. Bingley,” said Jane.

  “I have told Lizzy nothing but the truth. Mr. Bingley is everything the heart desires, and best of all, he is utterly smitten with our Jane.”

  Jane did not appear nearly so convinced of Mr. Bingley’s affection as did Charlotte, as her subsequent protests attested, but on the other hand, Jane rarely showed her true feelings. Elizabeth feared such reticence on Jane’s part was merely a means of protecting herself from the pang of disappointed hopes. Bearing witness to Jane’s sufferings broke Elizabeth’s heart. Her elder sister was everything that was good in Elizabeth’s estimation. Her outer beauty paled in comparison to her inner beauty, which was really saying something. Elizabeth was sure she would give anything to see her sister happy.

  All along, Elizabeth clung to the hope that Jane’s vision might one day return. It was not out of the question that her sight would be restored just as suddenly and inexplicably as it had faded. All the books that Elizabeth had read on the subject had taught her to hope as much, and even the physician Jane had seen as a child had not ruled out such a possibility.

  Elizabeth reached for her sister’s hand and cradled it inside both of her own. “All I can say is this, Jane. If even half of what Charlotte says is true,” here she turned to her friend and spoke apologetically, “and dear Charlotte, you know I mean you no harm, nor do I doubt you.” She returned her attention to Jane. “I have yet to meet this Mr. Bingley, but I wager he would have to be a fool if he is not half in love with you already.”

  Later that same day, Elizabeth met the amiable Charles Bingley when he called on Longbourn with Mr. Darcy in tow. Now was her chance to observe first-hand the growing affection that Charlotte had witnessed on Mr. Bingley’s part toward Jane.

  How delighted Elizabeth was that her mother, Kitty, and Lydia were away when the gentlemen called. Even the recently betrothed Mary and Mr. Collins were nowhere to be found. The housekeeper had attributed their absence to Mr. Collin’s wish to see the view from Oakham Mount.

  Once all the usual civilities inherent in such an occasion ebbed, Mr. Bingley seemed impatient for diversion. “Did I not hear you express your admiration of the garden on one side of the lawn when we entered the gate, Darcy?” said he to his friend.

  Without awaiting a response, Bingley added, “It is much too pleasant to remain indoors. Perhaps we might take a turn in it.” He gazed at Jane. “What say you, Miss Bennet?”

  “I shall be delighted with your company, sir.” Jane turned toward her sister. “Shall we be favored with your company as well, Lizzy? That is to say, yours and Mr. Darcy’s?”

  Knowing how much her sister enjoyed spending time in the garden with the sun beaming down on her, Elizabeth was glad for Mr. Bingley’s suggestion. She could not be sure of what Mr. Darcy wanted, for he had rarely spoken in anything but monosyllables since his arrival.

  Seeing the two gentlemen together, Elizabeth could hardly imagine why they were such good friends. Their temperaments were nothing alike.

  Elizabeth could not help but notice that Mr. Darcy’s attention was frequently drawn by his friend as well as by Jane. The evening before, he had paid no more attention to her elder sister than he had to Kitty or Lydia.

  His silent scrutiny continued after the four of them made their way to the garden when Mr. Bingley and Jane sat beside each other on a wooden bench. Elizabeth could not help but wonder if Mr. Darcy’s seeming interest in Jane was a consequence of something he had learned from either Mr. Bingley or perhaps the young man’s family.

  Elizabeth feared the latter might have poisoned Mr. Darcy’s mind against Jane. Though she had yet to meet the Bingley sisters, Charlotte had told Elizabeth enough about the two of them to teach her to be circumspect where their motives were concerned.

  In truth, Bingley’s sisters and how they may or may not feel about her family meant nothing to Elizabeth. She did, however, care about Mr. Darcy’s opinion. She surmised Mr. Darcy exercised prodigious care over his friend, hence his being in Hertfordshire to aid him with the ins and outs of estate management.

  One word from Mr. Darcy might very well extinguish his friend’s growing admiration for Jane.

  Elizabeth’s busy mind settled when she espied Mr. Bingley present Jane with a bouquet of flowers that he had gathered along the way
. Jane held the gay assortment to her nose and breathed in deeply. She smiled.

  Elizabeth’s happiness in seeing such joy in her sister’s face was complete.

  Chapter 19

  Lydia’s incessant wailing flooded the halls. One had to be deaf not to hear her. Mrs. Bennet, Mary, and Jane were visiting the Lucases that morning, which left only Kitty and Elizabeth to comfort the poor child.

  “Lydia!” Elizabeth exclaimed with energy. “What on earth is the matter?”

  “I do not wish to marry that decrepit old man,” Lydia cried. “I am too young to die!”

  “Too young to die. What are you talking about, Lydia? Since when is getting married synonymous with dying? But more important than that, who has proposed to you?”

  “That horrid Mr. Coble is demanding that I marry him or else!” Lydia replied. She looked at Elizabeth through tear-filled eyes. “He said I owe him my hand in marriage because of all the things he has given me these past weeks. But why would I marry such a man? Especially now, when I know what I know!

  “Am I to pretend to be ignorant of all the talk about his three previous wives? Am I to pretend to be ignorant of the reason behind his horrible nickname?”

  Kitty said, “Indeed. I am sure Mr. Coble is not known as the ‘merry’ widower for nothing!”

  Elizabeth was indeed privy to the rumors widely circulated at the times of Mr. Coble’s previous wives’ deaths. As nothing was ever proved, soon enough, the stories died too. Whether the gentleman’s wealth and connections had anything to do with anything was not for the people of Meryton to say.

  Elizabeth supposed Lydia might have never heard the hushed whispers surrounding the man upon first making his acquaintance. She was, after all, more than a couple of decades the man’s junior and very young when the third wife passed away. What’s more, being one of the silliest girls in all of England, Lydia was utterly oblivious to anything that did not directly involve her. Even with that as an excuse, Elizabeth did not mean to let Lydia eschew her responsibility for her current predicament so easily as that.