The Challenge of Entail

by Jann Rowland

It took considerable willpower not to grimace at her familiar greeting. To the best of his knowledge, Georgiana had never given the woman permission to address her by her Christian name, making it rude and presumptuous. It was one concession he made to avoid offending his friend and maintaining the connection, though he thought Bingley would not be affronted at all should Darcy profess offense. Still, it seemed best to just ignore the woman altogether.

  “We have prepared all your favorites tonight, Georgiana darling,” said Miss Bingley, clutching his sister’s arm possessively and guiding her to a chair. “It is unfortunate Louisa is not here tonight, for she dotes on you so. But she and Hurst are still at his family estate and will not arrive for some time yet.”

  “Thank you, Miss Bingley,” said Georgiana. Darcy was proud of his sister, for she did not betray a hint of her discomfort.

  “Please, Mr. Darcy,” added Caroline, while seeing to Georgiana’s comfort, “you may sit here.”

  “Thank you, Miss Bingley,” said Darcy, choosing a chair closer to Bingley, intent on avoiding the perception of favor. “I trust you have been well?”

  “Yes, I have,” replied Miss Bingley. “It is only that town is so dull at present. I am eager to hear of Georgiana’s recent adventures.”

  Amused at having his recent thoughts echoed in her words, Darcy nodded and turned to Bingley, while keeping a close eye on his sister. Georgiana could hold her own against Miss Bingley’s intrusive inquisition, but he rarely allowed her to visit with the woman without supervision.

  “Are you affected by the same ennui as your sister?” asked Darcy of his friend.

  “It is true there has been little amusement for Caroline,” replied Bingley. “But my days have been full. I am certain the lack of society has been no burden for you.”

  Darcy, not about to confess to his own sense of boredom, made an ambiguous comment, before turning to his true interest. “What of going to Hertfordshire? Can I suppose you still intend to go to your estate before long?”

  “As soon as I can drag myself away from town,” replied Bingley. “I hope you are still planning to accompany me.”

  “That is the only reason I am still in town,” replied Darcy. “Otherwise I would have retired to Pemberley long ago.”

  Bingley grinned. “I never would have guessed it, old man. I greatly appreciate your willingness to assist.”

  “Do you know when you will be at liberty to leave?”

  “Perhaps within the next few days—perchance as early as next week. Will Miss Darcy join us?”

  Darcy looked over at his sister, who was speaking with Miss Bingley. “At present, she is much engaged with my aunt. In the future, perhaps, but I believe she is content to be in London for now.”

  With a nod, Bingley allowed the matter to rest. His sister, Darcy knew, would not have been so quick to cease pressing him on the matter.

  “The true art of managing an estate,” said Darcy, turning back to the previous subject, “is learned during the spring planting season and fall harvest. The rest of the year is either waiting for the crops to grow or preparing for the next planting—though preparations for winter are important. I am happy to join you, though I am uncertain how much assistance I will be during the winter months since the estate’s steward will do much of the work for the next growing season.”

  “Then you shall need to join me in the spring!” said the ever-irrepressible Bingley.

  Soon after, they were called into dinner. As there were only four diners, the setting was much more intimate than Darcy might have wished, with Bingley at the head of the table, Miss Bingley at the foot, and the Darcy siblings facing each other on the log side of the table. For a time, the conversation, while not to his taste, was at least acceptable.

  “It is my understanding you are staying with your aunt, Georgiana,” said Miss Bingley. “And how are you finding the countess’s house?”

  “I have always enjoyed my time with my aunt,” replied Georgiana. “Lady Susan is kind to me. She was one of my mother’s closest friends.”

  “You have spoken of her so much that I feel I already know her. It is my hope to make her acquaintance someday.”

  It had been Miss Bingley’s hope to make Lady Susan and Lord Matlock’s acquaintance for many months. The reason she had not yet is Darcy did not wish to force her fawning attempts to curry favor with them, and they had no particular desire to become known to her. The Fitzwilliams had met Bingley, and they approved of him. But Darcy judged that Miss Bingley would be a different manner of acquaintance and preferred to keep himself free of the possibility of their censure.

  “Perhaps an invitation may be arranged,” replied Georgiana, though committing nothing. “At present, I believe my aunt is enjoying the relative lack of her peers in London, for she often tells me the demands of her position can be overwhelming.”

  “Nothing could overwhelm to her, I am certain!” objected Miss Bingley, unable to understand why a woman of Lady Susan’s prominence would not do everything in her power to flaunt it as often as possible.

  “I did not say she was overwhelmed, Miss Bingley,” was Georgiana’s calm reply. “It is beneficial to rest from such things from time to time, is it not? Regardless, my companion and I are comfortable there.”

  “Ah, yes—your companion.” Miss Bingley peered at Georgiana. “It is curious she did not accompany you tonight.”

  “She is visiting family this evening,” said Georgiana. “As William was to escort me here, I saw no need to include her when she may have the evening to herself.”

  “Indeed,” replied Miss Bingley. “In the future, however, I would suggest you remind her of her place. It is not good for a woman hired for a position to shirk from her duties. You should take her in hand.”

  The reason Georgiana’s companion had not accompanied them tonight was because they knew Miss Bingley would have treated her with contempt, leaving her to herself for the entire evening. It was better she was otherwise occupied, for the woman, while compensated well, was not paid enough to endure Caroline Bingley’s barbs.

  Later, after they returned to the sitting-room, Darcy rediscovered the more interesting aspects of Miss Bingley’s character. At a point when Bingley and Georgiana were speaking of some matter together, she used the opportunity to further her schemes with him and speak of another matter of which she was not happy.

  “I must commend you concerning your sister, sir,” said she in the simpering tone she used when she wished to impress him. “Georgiana is everything delightful. It is my hope she will consent to entertain us with her skills tonight, for it is some time since I have heard her play.”

  “Thank you, Miss Bingley,” said Darcy. “I will own I am prodigiously proud of her.”

  “As you should be. It is pleasing they are so comfortable in each other’s company. Charles, you know, thinks as highly of Georgiana as I do.”

  Darcy nearly rolled his eyes. Miss Bingley, it seemed, not only had her eye on the vacant position of mistress of Pemberley but was also eager to bring about a double connection with the Darcy family. Though she considered herself subtle, Darcy had understood her desire for Bingley to marry Georgiana for some time. The woman did not take into account that as a girl of fifteen, Georgiana was not ready for marriage, even if Bingley had looked on her as a more than just a little sister.

  “The feeling is mutual, Miss Bingley,” said Darcy, refusing to say anything more.

  Miss Bingley preened, as if he had just declared his lifelong devotion to her. Then her expression turned sour.

  “There was one matter I hoped to discuss with you, Mr. Darcy. It is my hope I may depend on your assistance to help persuade my brother.”

  “Oh?” asked Darcy. “I cannot imagine what influence you believe I have such that I may contradict him.”

  “Of course, your influence is profound,” said she. “Charles relies on your advice in all matters.”

  Darcy was not at all cer
tain that was accurate, but he indicated his willingness to hear her regardless.

  “It is this business of Hertfordshire.” Miss Bingley huffed with exasperated annoyance. “Do you know he determined to lease this estate of which he speaks without consulting me on the matter?”

  “Is it not his decision to make? Your brother does not intend to purchase at this time. Netherfield is an opportunity to learn estate management without the risk or responsibility of full ownership. And as the estate is close to London, he may travel here whenever he wishes, whether during the season or otherwise. The prospects are good, in my opinion.”

  Miss Bingley made a guttural sound in the back of her throat, one Darcy was certain she was not even aware of herself. “Perhaps all that is true. What Charles has told me of the neighborhood tells me, the locals will be positively medieval. How are we to endure a neighborhood with a society it will be a punishment to endure?”

  “Perhaps, Miss Bingley, it would be best to meet the locals before pronouncing them unsuitable.”

  “There is no need,” snapped the woman, her impatience impeding her better manners, such as they were. “I know what it will be like, Mr. Darcy. The neighborhood will be full of people of little fashion and less refinement, and every young woman there will set her cap at my brother.” Miss Bingley regarded Darcy. “In fact, I have little doubt you will have to fend off determined fortune hunters by the score while residing with us.”

  “It is nothing less than I have here, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy. Had the woman any inkling she herself was at the top of that list, she would have been mortified. Then again, perhaps she would not care.

  “It is clear,” said she, and Darcy knew it was clear in her own mind, “we can allow this. I would have much preferred Charles find an estate to lease in Derbyshire. There, at least, we would find people of refinement.”

  “But you would be three days distant from London.”

  “A small price to pay.”

  “Your brother has judged differently. Estates in Derbyshire are no better or worse than those in Hertfordshire, Cornwall, Kent, or any other part of the kingdom, Miss Bingley. It is the diligence of the proprietor which determines their worthiness.”

  Miss Bingley sniffed with disdain. “That is beyond dispute. But I cannot countenance this neighborhood Charles has seen fit to inflict upon us. No, it will not do. I must have you speak with Charles, convince him of the folly of leasing this Hertfordshire estate. If he refuses the lease, there may still be enough time for him to find an estate in a more proper part of the kingdom.”

  How Darcy would have loved to indulge in a chuckle! As it was, he had no intention of speaking to Bingley, and he would not, under any circumstances, attempt to persuade his friend. While it was true Bingley relied on him for advice, Darcy had no desire to make Bingley any more dependent on him than he already was. Quite the opposite—everything on which he advised his friend was with the goal of weaning him from Darcy’s support. Bingley’s learning the management of an estate was also a circumstance which would see him standing more on his own.

  “Your brother has signed a lease, Miss Bingley,” said Darcy. “To withdraw now would cause him to lose the money he has invested. Besides, as you know, I accompanied your brother to Hertfordshire to inspect the place before he signed the papers. It is a good property, one which will allow your brother to learn without being too difficult. I have no intention of attempting to change his mind.”

  The look Miss Bingley fixed on him was overflowing with displeasure, though she surely thought he could not read it in her countenance. Regardless, she appeared to come to the correct conclusion, for she did not press her point.

  “When you put it that way, I suppose there is nothing to be done.”

  “I am glad you understand, Miss Bingley.”

  A rather put-upon sigh was followed by a brightening of her countenance. “I suppose it is close to town, which has its advantages. With any luck, we shall be there no longer than a month or two and shall be occupied by the season soon after.”

  Darcy thought this was a rather vain hope, for he knew Bingley intended to spend some months in Hertfordshire. It would not surprise him if Bingley returned to London for part of the season, but he intended to be in the country during planting season. Knowing this, however, did not lead Darcy to contradict the man’s sister—let Bingley do that.

  “And I suppose we shall be the leading lights of local society the moment we set foot in it,” added Miss Bingley, a distant smile settled on her countenance. “The locals will look to us for guidance in matters fashionable. Though I would not relish moving in such circles, it will do them good. It is unlikely they have had much contact with the civilized world.”

  “Doubtless they will be rendered speechless.”

  Miss Bingley missed his barb, instead preening at his perceived compliment. “Yes, well, I shall try not to dazzle them too much.” Then she turned to him, her manner becoming serious. “What I said of the locals was not idle commentary, sir. In a small society such as the one we soon shall enter, I am convinced fortune hunters will be on every corner. You must take care not to give encouragement, and I must depend on your help to safeguard my brother.”

  “Miss Bingley, you should know by now that I am always careful. And I am not convinced it shall be as bad as you say, for those living in the neighborhood are gentlefolk. While they may not be as polished as those you might meet in town, they will be adequate company while we are there.”

  The huff with which Miss Bingley responded informed Darcy she did not agree and was not happy, but she subsided and did not speak further on the matter. Bingley, though he was a good man, was prone to having his head turned by a pretty face. What he was not, however, was a man who raised false hopes or allowed an unscrupulous woman to capture him. If he did become enamored in Hertfordshire, Darcy would watch the woman to see if she appeared to be a fortune hunter. Other than that, it was Bingley’s responsibility to manage his own affairs, and Darcy had every confidence in his friend’s ability to do so.

  Chapter VI

  Mrs. Bennet’s reaction to the imminent visit of the man she once detested as the means of her ruin was everything Elizabeth might have expected. Learning that the man who had, at one time, been in position to inherit the estate would soon darken her doorstep revived the nerves which had been dormant for many years.

  “Mr. Collins? Come to visit us?”

  It was a mark of her improvement that her incredulous query was not in the form of a screech, as it would have been many years ago. As it was, Elizabeth could hear her tone of rising trepidation.

  “Why would that man seek to bother us now? Does he not know you have cut him from inheriting the estate?”

  “Given the number of times he has reproached me in recent years,” said Mr. Bennet, “I am certain he well knows it.”

  “Does he have a means of restoring himself?” fretted Mrs. Bennet, continuing with her questions. “Oh, Mr. Bennet! I knew it was too good to be true!”

  This last was much more akin to her previous wails, a fact Mr. Bennet noted as clearly as his second eldest daughter. “There is no means of restoring himself,” said Mr. Bennet, his sternness catching his wife’s attention. “The entail is broken, Mrs. Bennet. The only way Mr. Collins may become my heir again is if I change my will, naming him to the position. You may rest assured that I shall never do so.”

  Mrs. Bennet paused and quieted for a moment, eying her husband as if to measure his trustworthiness. After a moment, she began to nod slowly, though she was not content until she had made one last query.

  “My brother Phillips is certain of this?”

  “There is no doubt, Mrs. Bennet. There is no need to ever fear for Mr. Collins or the entail again.”

  The tension bled from Mrs. Bennet’s shoulders and she straightened, favoring her husband with a smile. “Then I shall endeavor to welcome Mr. Collins as a visitor but give him no more deference
than what he is due. If he should say anything concerning the entail, I shall not feel myself bound to listen to him.”

  “That is sensible.”

  The visit had been scheduled for some few days later, days which were blissfully free of the militia, and Mr. Wickham in particular. The younger girls lamented the officers’ failure to visit them again, but the elder sisters stayed close to home. While Jane said no word on the subject and Elizabeth did not raise it, she had the distinct sense that Jane had no more wish to see Mr. Wickham than Elizabeth had herself.

  When the day they were to welcome their guest arrived, the elder Bennets gathered together on the front step of Longbourn—in a show of possible disdain for Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet had decreed that Kitty and Lydia were too busy with their studies to join them in welcoming their guest. Though it was impossible to misunderstand, none of them said anything to their mother, and Mr. Bennet chuckled and squeezed his wife’s hand when she announced it.

  The carriage carrying Mr. Collins was a two-wheel gig he had commissioned for the purpose, drawn by a horse, stamping and snorting as it came to halt by the driver. The two men in the carriage stepped down, and while the driver began unloading Mr. Collins’s trunks, the man himself stepped toward the waiting family. His nod to them was perfunctory and only barely adequate, as if he considered himself far above the plane his cousin and family inhabited. “I assume you must be Mr. Bennet?”

  “Indeed, I am, Mr. Collins. Welcome to Longbourn.”

  If any of them had expected thanks, they were destined to be disappointed, for Mr. Collins only sniffed, disdain clear in the curl of his lip. “Yes, well, it seems appropriate, at least for the present. It does no good to bring up old grievances or injustices. You may show me to my room, so I may refresh myself—then I shall attend you.”

  It was a speech barely civil, and one Elizabeth might not have expected, given her father’s tales of his letter writing prowess. While the resentment was evident, his words were not as verbose as she had thought to hear, almost seeming perfunctory. Mr. Bennet did not contradict the parson—instead, he led Mr. Collins inside and commended him to the care of Mrs. Hill, their housekeeper, to be conveyed to his room. If Mr. Collins took Mr. Bennet’s unwillingness to do the honor himself as a slight, he did not say so. They saw nothing more than his back as he proceeded to the stairs after Mrs. Hill.