by Kara Louise
My master and Georgiana had an enjoyable visit, albeit a short one. I was able to coax her to join me outside to make Sadie’s acquaintance and I was quite proud that both seemed to enjoy one another’s company.
Her visit ended far too quickly for my taste, and soon she was taking her leave to return to Mrs. Annesley. She and my master made arrangements to return to Pemberley for the holiday season. Before leaving, she gave me a fervent hug, which I hoped would linger with me. I anticipated a most unpleasant afternoon amidst company that was coming together for exceedingly distasteful purposes.
*~*~*
My master had been awaiting the Bingleys’ and Hursts’ arrival with no little anxiety after receiving a prompt reply accepting his invitation. Determination was clearly written across his face as he resolved to carry through with the formidable scheme he and Miss Bingley devised.
He issued orders to have fresh food and drink set up in the sitting room, but to my surprise, was adamant about not replacing the bowl of tainted fruit. It was apparent that he wished to maintain a rather relaxed atmosphere for his friend whilst being subjected to a verbal assault. However, I could not comprehend how the rotten fruit fit into his hospitality.
At the appointed time, Bingley arrived with his sisters and Mr. Hurst. As much as I objected to this scheme, curiosity prompted me to remain. I lay my head down upon my paws, feigning a posture of indifference whilst, in truth, I was very much attentive to their conversation.
Bingley walked in innocently and greeted his friend heartily and cheerfully. “Goodness, Darcy! Everyone following me into town has certainly taken me by surprise! But do not take me wrong, I am pleased to see you!”
He extended his hand and my master took it in a firm shake. “Thank you, Bingley. It was unfortunate you had already left when it was decided upon that we would all quit Netherfield.”
Bingley’s eyes were wide with bewilderment. “I truly cannot get over how sudden and unexpected it was. I had no notion you all were inclined to depart.”
My master waved for everyone to enter and Miss Bingley swept into the room, taking command of the conversation. “We all began talking about how envious we were of you, Charles, in such superior society and…” she looked over to my master for confirmation, “…the next thing we knew, we were all quite in an uproar about joining you here. There was no other alternative.”
Bingley gave his sister and friend a brief smile. “But Netherfield… I had hoped to return in a day or two.”
“There is no need to rush back, Charles,” his sister began. “We are all of the same mind and wish to enjoy the society here that was lacking in Hertfordshire. It has been far too long, would you not concur, Mr. Darcy?”
I eyed him carefully as he took a deep breath. “Entirely too long.”
I apprehended it was now his turn to plant the seed of doubt.
“My cook has laid out refreshments. Shall we enjoy a light tea and some fruit?” He walked over to the bowl of fruit and picked up an apple. “Would you care for an apple, Bingley? They were just purchased this morning, fresh from the ship. They appear to be beautiful specimens, do they not?” He turned with a smile and Bingley nodded. To my astonishment, my master handed him one of the apples and then went to stand in front of him. I wondered why he would knowingly hand his friend the spoiled fruit.
“Bingley, Netherfield was a decent house in the country, but I fear it would not prove to be a wise purchase. I must agree with Miss Bingley that the neighbourhood lacked any sort of excellent society.” I was not fooled by the affable tone of my master’s voice. I could sense he was laying a foundation to betray Bingley.
“Just what are you saying, Darcy?” he impatiently inquired as he tossed the apple from one hand to the other whilst my master began pacing the floor in front of his friend.
“You say you found your neighbours to be a friendly lot, Bingley. Perhaps that is true, but unfortunately, I found them to be simple country folk. No one of any real great esteem lived in the vicinity. You must begin to think about those with whom you associate, mere amiability cannot be your only standard.”
I watched as a flicker of concern crossed Bingley’s face. “They were all good people,” he protested.
Miss Bingley felt it was her turn to add some fuel to their argument. “They were, Charles. But therein lies the problem. They were merely good. They lacked the connections, the breeding, the status to which we are accustomed… to which we are entitled.”
He turned back to my master. “Darcy, are you of the opinion, then, that I should not make an offer to purchase Netherfield?”
“I believe that would be wise.”
Bingley suddenly stood up and shook his head violently, and waving his still uneaten apple through the air, cried out, “But what of Miss Bennet? I must go back so I can further our acquaintance!”
My master walked over to him, standing a few inches taller and commanding a presence that was unflinching.
“For what purpose, man?”
“What purpose? She is an angel! She is everything I have longed for! I intend to offer her…”
“Bingley,” my master now subdued him by placing both hands firmly on his shoulders and looked at him squarely in the eye. “Certainly you viewed Miss Bennet as nothing more than a delightful distraction.”
“Delightful distraction! Good Lord, Darcy! She was much more to me than that!”
“Was she?”
“Of course! Could you not see how taken I was by her?”
“But was she as taken with you?”
Bingley’s eyes narrowed as he looked from his friend to his sister and then back to his friend. “Yes, I believe she was.”
Miss Bingley stepped forward, and with a cunning, condescending smile said, “She is a very sweet, amiable girl, Charles; the most delightful person of whom I made acquaintance in all of Hertfordshire, but…” She looked beseechingly at my master for assistance.
“But what?”
My master, remaining characteristically restrained, spoke softly, but forcefully, to his friend. “Bingley, it pains me to say this, but she exhibited no outward regard for you. She received your attentions very politely.”
“Politely?” Bingley interrupted, his countenance reddening and his whole demeanour shaken. “You are all quite mistaken!”
My master lifted his hand. “Bingley, consider this. You came to Hertfordshire and singled her out. Without taking into consideration her family connections, you deemed her worthy of your undivided esteem. Their home is entailed away with no immediate male heir to claim it. With the pressure from her mother to secure a husband of at least moderate fortune, she had no choice but to accept your attentions.”
“No! It is much more than that!” He directed his attention to Louisa and her husband, who had been sitting quietly, observing the machinations of the twosome. “Certainly you beheld her admiration for me!”
Louisa raised her eyebrow and shook her head. “No, my dear brother. I honestly have to admit I did not.”
In a fit of frustration, Bingley finally took a bite out of the apple as my master watched him closely.
He did not appear to perceive anything unusual and he continued, “You did not make her acquaintance as deeply as I, nor did you apprehend the admiration in her eyes as she spoke, the tenderness of her voice, or the warmth in her smile. She loves me! I am convinced of it! She loves me!”
“Bingley, I am willing to allow that she has a most serene nature, but there is more to consider than merely that and her angelic beauty.” My master fortified himself with a deep breath and continued. “Her family connections are nothing, their behaviour time and again points toward their ill-breeding. She is continually pressured by her mother to marry a man of fortune, and she challenges every word you say!”
Every eye turned in astonishment to my master at his final point. I knew, of course, that though his words were directed against Bingley’s beloved, his thoughts were on a very different Miss Bennet.
> “Challenges my every word?” gasped Bingley. “How could you accuse her of such a thing?”
As my master made an attempt to recover, his friend took another bite out of the apple and as the others were looking between themselves at this last outburst, Bingley called out, “Heavens, Darcy! Where did you get this apple? It is completely spoilt on the inside!”
My master, no doubt grateful for the distraction, called for the servant who had been standing outside the door. “Hannington! Remove this bowl of fruit at once! All of it! This is inexcusable!”
Hannington looked penitently and most curiously as my master looked at Bingley, offering an apology. “Please accept my apologies, Bingley. I deeply regret that it occurred.”
“Think nothing of it,” he replied and sat down, completely spent. Shaking his head, he softly uttered, “You just do not know her. None of you know her as I do.”
As Hannington carried out the bowl, my master reached over and plucked another one out. Holding it up to his friend, he asked, “Charles, does this apple look fit to be eaten?”
Everyone’s attention was riveted to my master, who spoke calmly and deliberately, hoping, I was sure, to convince his friend of the seriousness of his words.
“Yes, of course it does,” Bingley answered, somewhat reluctantly.
“On the surface, its edibility actually appears quite promising. The apple is firm and the skin is red and shiny.” He leaned in to his friend and asked, “But can you truly evaluate it by merely holding it in your hand or looking it over?”
Bingley did not answer, but huffed and looked away.
He continued. “Miss Bennet may have appeared to be everything for which you have ever wished, you may have even considered making her an offer, but was she truly suitable?” Darcy deftly cut the fruit in half, revealing its sorry core. “Like this apple, my friend, it would be a grave error for you to realize your misapprehension after you have plucked her from the bowl. A wretched wife is not so easily disposed of as a piece of spoilt fruit.”
“Exactly! A dreadful apple ruins everything,” exclaimed Miss Bingley. “Like the apple in the Garden of Eden! Look what trouble was wrought when Adam and Eve bit into that!”
“Quite!” added Mrs. Hurst.
My master rolled his eyes at Miss Bingley’s reference and I let out a grumble. I knew the story well as Georgiana’s reading lessons were often from the Bible and even I knew it was not an apple, but some unspecified fruit that they had been admonished not to eat, but did so anyway. The fruit in Eden was not rotten either.
I felt that this picture my master chose to emphasize his point was greatly flawed in that, unlike the apple, Miss Bennet was not rotten on the inside. She was exceptionally superior -- as was her sister -- to most other ladies hoping to be plucked from the bowl by some man of great fortune; one lady in particular who was present in this very room!
Think upon that, Bingley! I wished to shout at him. Do not let them sway you from what you know is right and good! There is nothing whatsoever wrong with the apple you want. It is actually the tree and the orchard from which the apple came that offends them most.
I was much too distressed and in no humour to stand by and watch as moment by moment Bingley was persuaded to look upon his affection for Miss Bennet as errant and foolish. I recognized, from the change in Bingley’s deportment, the instant he altered from challenging his sisters’ and good friend’s judgment to questioning his own. The stubborn fire in his eyes was displaced by pain and anguish. A look of defeat and resignation swept over his whole being.
Unwilling to be party to this unhappy scheme, I picked myself up and slowly made my way to the door, giving my master one last glaring look and an emphatic bark that appeared to startle everyone in the room. The last thing I heard was my master apologizing for my behaviour, saying something about my recent testiness and blaming it on my advanced years.
When Bingley quit the townhome with his party later that evening, I comprehended that we both felt the dejection to the same degree.
My master sequestered himself immediately thereafter in his library, tense and quite depleted from his foray into duplicity. When I walked in, after leaving him to himself for a good amount of time, he merely looked up at me and in his most convincing tone, uttered, “This was for Bingley’s own good, Reggie. One day he will be able to look back and thank me for it.”
And whilst he may have persuaded himself that everything he said had been truthful, I knew that deep down inside he felt a crushing sense of treason against his friend; being tantamount in his estimation to disguise, which he utterly and completely abhorred. He may have succeeded in convincing himself and his friend of both ladies’ unsuitability and believed it was his duty to separate them, but I was quite convinced that he would eventually come to regret it.
Chapter 17
Before finally returning to Pemberley, my master accompanied Bingley to his club, the theatre, a concert, more than one ball, and other society events. Although this went against his deeply ingrained reserve, it had been agreed upon back at Netherfield as he and Miss Bingley sought how best to keep Bingley otherwise distracted as well as take every opportunity to reinforce their opinion of Miss Bennet upon him. In unguarded moments, I could see that the forced society was taking its toll on my master. The furrows on his brow took permanent residence and little joy could be found in his eyes.
That time in London took its toll on me physically and emotionally as well. Physically, the cold, damp air assaulted my every bone, rendering me stiff and hampering my activities. It was an increasing burden to move around and necessitated my remaining indoors for the majority of the time, much to my disappointment.
It was fortunate that the servants understood my infirm condition and were kind enough to give me reassurances regarding Sadie. She was perfectly content in her new environs and was well looked after. I found it distressing that it took great effort to venture out, as a short visit left me quite fatigued. I also felt as though it took more than the normal effort to merely breathe in the dirty, dank London air and found myself wheezing and occasionally gasping. The whole household expressed concern, but I knew all that was needed was the sweet, fresh country air of Derbyshire and I would be my old self again.
My emotions, however, were not so easily healed. Do not doubt that dogs have feelings. They most certainly do! I assure you I was quite despondent! I -- who have prided myself on my ability to be an excellent companion to my master, who took on the office of bringing liveliness to his burdened life -- felt all the guilt for my master’s present unhappiness. And what was worse, I knew a particular person who could bring us both joy, and yet, I was powerless to persuade my master to follow his heart.
My master and I both indulged in a bit of self-pity. I missed the spirit of liveliness that had been a vital part of our lives and I expressed my displeasure with frequent disgruntled moans. My master exhibited his self-pity by throwing himself into various endeavours that normally would try his patience and test his self-control. Some of the activities in which he engaged were done with Bingley and for his friend’s benefit, others he did out of obligation to his name and standing in society, and still others he was wont to do -- I suspect -- to convince himself that he was not affected by the loss of Miss Elizabeth’s society. But by his very choice to exert himself in society and to the extent that he did, I knew he felt the loss acutely.
I was convinced that we both anticipated returning to Pemberley and the semblance of peace and contentment it promised.
When that happy day arrived when we once again entered the woods surrounding Pemberley, I felt an exuberant sense of vitality course through me. Not since arriving in London had I felt in such good form. The air, although brisk, was fresh and clean and I could breathe with little effort and constraint. Returning to Pemberley appeared to make a difference for my master, as well. An expression of serenity replaced the severe countenance that had been permanently etched across his features for the past month.
“We are home,” he said softly.
When we exited the carriage, I immediately felt the energy that had evaded me in London. I eagerly glanced around, hoping to see what became of Sadie, who travelled two days earlier with the servants and some of my master’s personal articles. I also hoped that Georgiana had already arrived along with Mrs. Annesley.
I lifted my nose to the air, grateful that I was finally able to breathe something other than the stale, putrid London air. I forthwith detected Sadie’s scent, but not Georgiana’s. Giving my master a glance and seeing that he was off for the house, I set off to find Sadie. I was exhilarated to have the strength and ability again to be able to wander about freely and hoped to find Sadie to acquaint her with my favourite place in all the world.
I discovered her by the stables, sitting obediently without a restraint and facing away from me, next to one of the stablehands. Upon my approach, I watched as she lifted her nose in the air, pricked up her ears, and then her tail began wagging excitedly as she turned to greet me. She promptly came to me, our noses meeting, and she gave a few exuberant prances to display her delight.
I was proud that she had obviously been behaving in such a mannerly way to be allowed unfenced and off leash. The young stablehand stood up and greeted me.
“Hello, Reggie. I have taken a liking to your new friend. She and I have become excellent companions since she arrived two days ago.” He leaned down and patted her on the head as she fixed her admiration-filled eyes upon him. “I hope you don’t mind.”
On the contrary, I was pleased that she had someone seeing to her and trusting her with a trifle more freedom that she had ever had. She had come a long way since that first day we saw her at Netherfield. I doubted, however, that she would ever become the faithful confidante to my master that I had been over the years.
*~*~*
It was with great delight that we welcomed Georgiana the very next day. Our return to Pemberley and her arrival seemed to effect a kind of healing in my master. He seemed better reconciled to the lot that had been dealt him -- or that he had dealt himself.