by Olivia Kane
Mr. Bingley listened with good humor and, despite Kitty being a very silly young girl, took her advice to heart.
“There is a sense in your system that appeals to me. Then I am off to the Meryton Arms to let my mind settle over a pie and a pint. Thank you for all your suggestions,” Bingley said, tipping his hat.
They parted with good wishes for the remainder of the day.
“That was an enjoyable encounter,” Elizabeth said.
“Mr. Bingley is so generous. Oh, that we had a rich brother to buy us all beautiful things,” Lydia whined.
“I wonder what he will end up buying,” Kitty said. “For if he buys the shawl then I shall never have it. Oh, why did I show him? I should have kept it a secret.”
“We must remember to ask later. Hopefully, he won’t have left Netherfield before we may ask him,” Elizabeth said.
Jane looked at Elizabeth, stricken.
“What do you mean by that?” Jane asked.
Elizabeth hesitated. She hadn’t thought how the news of Bingley departing Netherfield would affect Jane. But it was obvious that any hopes that their budding relationship could result in an engagement required his extended presences at Netherfield.
“I am sorry, Jane. It was something that Wickham said at the assembly. He seems to think that the party will leave after the New Year for the London season. But I do not know how reliable a source Wickham is; how can he be sure of their intentions, as one’s own mind can change from minute to minute?”
Jane composed herself and shook her head. “No, the departure of Mr. Bingley from Netherfield should not be a source of surprise. We are good friends, and he has no obligation to stay at Netherfield any longer than his heart delights. I would not wish him to stay out of a sense of obligation to me.”
She insisted on smiling at each one of her sisters in a half-hearted effort to convince them of her equanimity. Elizabeth, Kitty, and Lydia, on the other hand, could not help but be unconvinced, for each felt in their heart that for Mr. Bingley to leave Netherfield without a proposal would be a very sad occurrence and a dashing of the collective hopes of the entire family. Until that moment, no one had thought of the possibility of Bingley leaving Netherfield so soon. Sobered, the young ladies walked quietly the remainder of the way to their Aunt Phillips’ home.
Jane’s attempts at gaiety were unconvincing. As they sat warming themselves before the crackling fire in Aunt Phillips’s green drawing room, her aunt sensed Jane’s melancholy and tried to offer comfort best she could.
“Let us not think of the worst. He is not sailing away, I am sure, but most likely off to London for a few months,” she said, patting Jane’s hand, “I would imagine the separation to be a good thing. For many a match has been hastened by longing for someone not near.
“I implore you to welcome his departure, and you will see the strength of his feelings for you. For if he forgets you so quickly then be glad, for one cannot make a successful match on such flimsy feelings. But if he leaves and comes back for you, then you can proceed with a happy heart. Have faith in the strength of his feelings.”
Jane pondered Aunt Phillip’s philosophy for a moment and then her countenance brightened noticeably.
“How wise a counsel that is. Yes, when looked at that way, I should remain calm and unmoved by the thought of his leaving. In fact, I could welcome it as a way to test him. It is very wise, indeed, Aunt,” Jane convinced herself.
“Now, who wants to hear some very interesting news?” Aunt Phillips asked.
All four heads turned her way.
“I have heard a report that Mr. Darcy is about to be engaged.”
A gasp of relief escaped Elizabeth. Aunt Phillips smiled at her. Sometimes she thought there was no greater thrill in country life than delivering a bit of good gossip.
“My that is interesting news indeed. Who is it? That dark-haired woman whose name escapes me?” Elizabeth asked.
“Miss Warwick? Yes, that is the one.”
Lydia laughed merrily. “I knew it. They look alike.”
“Both positively disagreeable,” Kitty added. “At the assembly, her nose was stuck in the air the entire night and she did not say a word to anyone local. And Maria Lucas said Miss Warwick stepped on her toe and refused to acknowledge it or apologize.”
“How grievous. But back to Darcy. You do see, Lizzie, how his asking you to dance, and you alone, though somewhat peculiar an action, really has no meaning,” Aunt Phillips continued.
“Perhaps his attention to me was done to incite jealousy in Miss Warwick? I can think of no other reason.”
“Most likely,” Aunt Philips nodded.
“Oh Elizabeth, he used you cruelly,” Jane exclaimed, leaning toward her sister in empathy.
Elizabeth cocked her head as she replied. “Apparently so. But my reputation will survive the insult, I am certain.”
“So is the match settled? Is it to be announced?” Jane inquired.
“Not yet. But very soon, the Bingley sisters were heard to say,” said Aunt Phillips.
“Then they would know; a very reliable source,” Elizabeth decided. “But is it not the height of incivility to arrive in a town, disparage a young woman and then use the same young woman to advance his own courtship without her willing knowledge?” Elizabeth did not think her description of his actions harsh at all.
“Yes, it is despicable,” Lydia declared, frowning deeply.
“And to do it in so public a setting? At a Christmas assembly in front of the whole village, for his dancing with you was the talk of the evening,” Jane added. Her anger, which rarely made an appearance, was beginning to simmer. “I wonder at Mr. Bingley’s fondness for the man. I simply cannot understand their friendship.”
Elizabeth could not help but be greatly amused and deeply satisfied with this new opportunity to condemn Mr. Darcy.
“In my eyes, he has made himself extremely unwelcome in our society. We must, however, take the higher ground and be civil to him, for I fear we will continue to be exposed to his company in the next few weeks. I imagine we will see him at Lucas Lodge on Christmas Eve but I will shun his company. It is welcome knowledge that he is not interested in me. I must confess, I did fear that.”
“As did we all!” Jane said.
“Now Lizzie, do not think about Mr. Darcy one more minute. There are many wonderful officers in town, and you must enjoy their company instead.”
“I will. It is a relief to know that Darcy will be engaged and obliged to spend his time with Miss Warwick,” Elizabeth said. “But I will not hold back from spreading the report for he may pick another unsuspecting young woman to embarrass at the next party or assembly and she may not be as immune to his charms as I am.”
“That is probably a wise decision. I may tell a few mothers as well to warn their daughters that Mr. Darcy is practically engaged and that no young ladies should get their hopes up if he happens to blink in their direction,” Aunt Phillips laughed.
“As for the other young man showing partiality toward you, my dear Lizzie, let me give you a word of warning,” Aunt Phillips said. “You may want to guard yourself against strengthening any existing attachment to Wickham, who has no money and cannot support a family. He may flirt at parties but I have heard he intends to choose a wife with regard to his pocketbook.”
Elizabeth took her aunt’s caution in stride but with a little defensiveness insisted, “Yes, I have taken a liking to Wickham, but not a severe liking. You are good to pass this news to me as a reminder to keep him at arm’s distance but do not worry on my account.”
“As it is the season for mistletoe, take caution not to be caught under the bough near him,” Aunt Phillips laughed.
“I do not blame Wickham for having to act sensibly in regards to his future, for if Mr. Darcy had given him the parish he was due, Wickham would be free to marry for love. That is the real offense, and I admire Wickham’s good-naturedness in the face of Darcy’s miserliness,” Elizabeth replied.
“Now let’s call for the tea and cakes, for you girls have been out walking and must be hungry,” Aunt Philips said.
Suddenly aware of her appetite, Elizabeth sat back contentedly as her aunt fussed over them, pouring their hot tea from her creamware and urging them to eat and drink heartily. When the young ladies had their fill, they said their goodbyes and wrapped themselves snugly for the quick mile walk back to Longbourn.
No sooner had they arrived at home then Mrs. Bennet greeted them with the news that Lady Lucas had been told to adjust her guest list; Mr. Darcy was called away from Netherfield and was not likely to attend her Christmas Eve dinner.
Elizabeth received the news with great excitement and felt the serenity and beauty of the Christmas season rushing back to her. Her joy inspired her to go about the rest of the day soliciting the needs of her family and fulfilling them, whether it meant foregoing the last boiled potato so Lydia could eat it or getting up from her seat before the fire to refill Kitty’s cup of cider or gushing compliments on Mary’s off-key God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen. She even made great headway on her labor of love for the local infant, her needle moving smoothly as if inspired and no tangled threads or stubborn knots stalling her progress.
Chapter Six
“Miss Jane, Miss Jane, letter for you here from Netherfield Park!” Hill called up the stairs with some amount of urgency. Hill’s hands were full of linens and the footman at the door was dripping snow from his boots onto her freshly waxed floor.
Jane came to the top of the stairs and peered down.
“Miss Bennet?” the footman inquired.
“Yes?”
“Letter from Mr. Bingley, requesting a reply.”
Jane flounced down the stairs, took the letter and opened it. Elizabeth appeared at the railing and looked down. “What is it?” she asked.
Jane scanned the letter quickly and beamed.
“Bingley is requesting that, if we are so inclined, we join him in an impromptu sledding party this morning.” She looked up from the invitation, her eyes glowing.
“The hill at Netherfield Park. I haven’t been down that since I was a little girl,” Elizabeth murmured. She looked at Jane. “Well?”
Jane nodded. “I say yes.”
“Yes, why not?” Elizabeth agreed.
Jane addressed the footman. “Yes, we accept.”
“Splendid. Mr. Bingley gave instructions that I am to wait while you dress and then drive you to Netherfield in his coach,” the footman said. Bingley’s coach stood at their door.
“We will be ready as soon as we can. Hill! Hill!” Jane cried.
“No need to rush, miss,” the footman said calmly. “Mr. Bingley is happy to wait while you dress. I will be outside when you are ready.” He made a small bow and exited the front door.
Hurriedly, Jane and Elizabeth rushed upstairs and donned their thickest woolen socks and wound soft scarves around their necks.
“Kitty and Lydia and Mary will be grieved to have missed the invitation,” Jane said.
“They had to go into town for news of the regiment. Aren’t you happy we stayed back? Otherwise, we would have missed the chance,” Elizabeth exclaimed.
“Yes. And aren’t you happy that Mr. Darcy is away, and you may go to Netherfield unperturbed?”
“Yes.”
Returning downstairs they fastened their cloaks, tied their bootlaces securely, and put on their warmest gloves.
“Jane, your new cloak is a vision. Maybe Mamma was right to spend so much on it,” Elizabeth whispered, as they shut the door behind them. Mrs. Bennet would be thrilled to know that her investment would have ample chance to impress on the sled hill of Netherfield Park.
The footman assisted them into the coach and they set their feet upon warm bricks for the short scenic drive down the snow-covered lane to Netherfield. The sledding party was already assembled outside and, as expected, Mr. Darcy was not present. However, a new gentleman was spotted amongst the familiar faces and introduced as Colonel Fitzwilliam, Darcy’s cousin.
Fitzwilliam displayed none of the same standoffish behavior as his cousin. Instead, his countenance was pleasant, his manner warm and welcoming, and he was solicitous in all the right ways.
“Thank goodness you are here, Fitzwilliam, or us gents would be outnumbered,” Mr. Hurst cackled as the party trudged off through the snow to the hill.
“I am happy to be in Hertfordshire for Christmas,” Fitzwilliam replied. “I have never been before.”
“I do so admire that cloak, Miss Bennet. You must tell me where in London you purchased it,” Caroline Bingley said in a rare compliment.
“It was purchased here in town, Miss Bingley, and thank you,” Jane replied.
“How astonishing,” Miss Bingley replied. “I have never been lucky enough to find an item of such sophistication in these provincial shops. I was certain you had to have gone to London for it.”
“No,” Jane answered firmly.
“And where is Mrs. Hurst or Miss Warwick this morning?” Elizabeth inquired, hoping to muzzle Miss Bingley on the topic of Meryton’s shopping.
“Mrs. Hurst has a slight sore throat and is inside drinking an infusion. Hopefully, it is just a passing condition. Miss Warwick is with her. Miss Warwick swears by her herbal infusions and she is not one for sport. She prefers to stay inside to keep my sister company. They are both anxious that the sore throat not progress as we are all expecting a special announcement will be made very soon,” Caroline said.
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged glances and tried not to smile in glee.
The engagement with Darcy!
Elizabeth could not recall anticipating the happy news of someone she hardly knew before.
“Does this announcement affect Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Hurst laughed. “And if so, does he know about it?”
Caroline rolled her eyes at her brother-in-law. “I have reason to believe that Mr. Darcy is only waiting for Georgiana to be here. He will be back from London with her in a day or two. I have a feeling he wants his cousin and his sister around for what I suspect will be a very special holiday,” Miss Bingley smirked.
“So is there a possibility they will be in town for the Lucas’s party?” Jane asked hesitantly.
“Yes, but their appearance at the party is in question. Miss Darcy may not be up to socializing after her journey, and Mr. Darcy is too attentive to her comfort to leave her at Netherfield alone,” Caroline said.
“There will be mistletoe hung at Lucas Lodge, I am sure of it. With Miss Elizabeth Bennet in attendance, I am sure Miss Warwick is hoping Darcy does not attend; it will keep him from temptation,” Mr. Hurst chuckled.
Elizabeth cringed. “Mr. Hurst! You forget yourself,” she admonished him in a tone that was only half-teasing. “But thank you for the notice; for if he were at the party I would know to keep my distance from the mistletoe until the last berry is pulled.”
“Darcy is not one for mistletoe this year,” Fitzwilliam offered.
Not any year, Elizabeth mused and then said laughingly, “I do say you are right, Colonel Fitzwilliam, for a kiss under the mistletoe is frequently done on impulse and from what I have observed, Mr. Darcy is too reserved in character to act in such a way, no matter how festive the night.”
“And from what I have observed, there is only one lady, besides Miss Warwick, who is at risk for such a kiss. Lucky for you, Miss Bennet, that his character, so reserved as you put it, will prevent you from becoming the subject of even more news this holiday season,” Miss Bingley quipped.
“Ah, here at last!” Bingley chirped as they reached the top of the hill, tiring of talk of mistletoe and kissing with Miss Jane Bennet about. Recently, his mind drifted entirely too much on the idea of finding himself under the mistletoe with her, and he could not trust himself to speak of the subject without coloring and tripping over his tongue.
“One sled for the ladies and another for us gents,” he said, motioning Jane toward the sled. Bingley held tight to the back of th
e sled and Fitzwilliam propped his boot against its front while loading—Jane in front, Caroline in the middle, and Elizabeth in back. Then with a laugh and a shout, Bingley gave the sled a forceful shove and it bulleted down the hill.
The men soon followed, their sled careening dangerously near the ladies, who were forced to jump out of its way with screams of delight. The thrill of the sport begat an instant camaraderie amongst the company and being young and full of energy they did not tire for the next few hours. Eventually, however, the whipping wind and persistent cold chilled even young bones and toes. Conscious of the ladies’ chattering teeth, Colonel Fitzwilliam examined the sky, where the sun burned brightly but low dark clouds were moving in rapidly, and he suggested a break.
“The wind is picking up. Perhaps it would be wise to return inside before the ladies are too chilled that they can’t recover?” he entreated.
“I’m already too chilled to recover,” Mr. Hurst laughed. He grabbed one of the sleds and Bingley the other and they started in the direction of the manor house. Fitzwilliam’s instincts were wise as their walk back was into the wind. Their progress was slow, all pleasant banter abandoned to concentrate on the effort required to put one foot in front of the other.
The ladies were forced to hold tight to their bonnets, as the wind was fierce enough to lift off any headwear not securely tied. Thus, chilled and snow-covered, they made their way through the drifts of the park into the warm interior of Netherfield House. After peeling off their cloaks and pulling off their wet boots, they crowded in front of the fire warming their hands and noses.
“I asked Mrs. Nicholls for hot chocolate and tea,” Bingley said. “She assured me it’s on its way.”
“My fingers are frozen,” Caroline complained.
“Mine too,” said Hurst. “I might drop the teacup.”
They remained at the fire warming their hands until Mrs. Nicholls arrived with the drinks and then sat silently together, sipping the rich dark chocolate and nibbling on cinnamon sugared toast and boiled egg sandwiches. Elizabeth savored the thick, soothing liquid as it slid down her throat, feeling its warmth radiate within her. The sun, which had shone brightly earlier, had permanently gone behind a cloud. The drawing room grew moody and dim, but a great fire crackled in the immense hearth, and Elizabeth felt a calm contentment in the afternoon. She could even tolerate Caroline Bingley for the moment.