by Jann Rowland
“He shall bring all of his friends?” demanded Lydia.
“There are rumored to be many,” fretted Kitty. “How shall we accommodate them all?”
“Oh, stuff and nonsense, Kitty!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. “There is little truth to be had in such gossip. Mr. Darcy—and a gentlemanly man he is—informed me himself that there is only Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy himself, and Mr. Bingley’s sister, though he mentioned that another sister and her husband would join them soon after.”
“Papa, since they are new to the neighborhood, you must allow us to attend,” said Lydia. “How else are we to make their acquaintance?”
“There is nothing your father must do, Lydia,” said Mrs. Garret, who had remained silent until that point.
“But surely you think we are ready to attend a simple dinner party with neighbors,” said Lydia, Kitty nodding by her side.”
“What I think is immaterial,” said Mrs. Garret, fixing Lydia with a pointed look. “Your father will decide.”
Though both girls turned to Bennet with beseeching eyes, he did not immediately respond, instead considering all that had come to pass. It seemed only the day before that Lydia had been a girl following after her elder sisters, and now she was on the cusp of being a young woman. Though the years had seemed to pass with idyllic slowness when Bennet had been a boy, the cares of an adult hastened the passage of time, such that he often wondered where it had all gone. Bennet found he missed those times when the girls had been just that—girls whose greatest concerns were the games they would play, their dolls and other toys, and the pretty dresses and ribbons they wore. Some of those concerns persisted but now they were becoming focused on young men. Bennet did not know how he would withstand losing them all.
“Let us table this discussion for another time,” said Bennet, smiling at his youngest. “If you attend to your studies tomorrow, perhaps we might find a place for you at the table.”
Both youngest girls gave their solemn promise to learn well the following day, though Bennet well knew how promises could fade in the face of whatever interesting matter crossed their minds. Both girls were social, and would do as they promised if only to ensure they were allowed the amusement. High-spirited they were, but their training had given them a sense of what was proper and what was not. They only needed some opportunity to practice that which they already knew.
Chapter XV
A morning of study, it seemed, was nothing less than a punishment for young girls intent upon taking part in the imagined wonders of an evening in company. Being of a social disposition herself, Elizabeth could well understand their desire to meet new and interesting people, though she thought it was also due to their desire to sigh and bat their eyelashes at handsome young gentlemen. Unfortunately, the application of their excitement which manifested in continuous chatter designed to avoid returning to their studies was ill-judged.
“I cannot wait to meet our new neighbors,” said Lydia with a sigh. It was during the morning meeting, both girls had made themselves comfortable at the breakfast table long after it would normally have been time for them to retreat from it. “How farcical would it be if Mr. Darcy were to fall in love with me and that I, the youngest, were to marry first?”
Kitty followed along with Lydia’s subsequent giggles and exclaimed: “Or if Mr. Bingley should fall at my feet!”
“It seems to me,” said Mr. Bennet, “that you should both reconsider this eagerness to marry early. After all, I should think you would prefer to come out in due time and be the center of attention, as your elder sisters were before you.”
Mr. Bennet looked kindly at the two youngest, who appeared contemplative, and added: “Besides, given what I saw of Mr. Darcy, I suspect he might prefer your elder sister.” When Elizabeth regarded him, surprised he would make such a declaration, Mr. Bennet said: “I detected a great deal of interest in you, Lizzy, though he is a reticent man who does not display his emotions openly.”
“I saw nothing of the kind,” said Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy was being polite.”
“If you are to marry Mr. Darcy,” said Lydia, ignoring Elizabeth’s protests, “you must promise me a season in town. I am sure I shall have hundreds of beaux, should I only be introduced to society!”
“Lydia!” snapped Elizabeth. “Do not say such foolish things, for we would not wish Mr. Darcy to come to the wrong conclusion about our family.”
It was all for naught. With Mr. Bennet’s words, the entire family joined in the teasing, speculating on how long it would be before Mr. Darcy proposed and when she could expect to be married. Knowing they were teasing her in good humor, Elizabeth allowed it, responding with a few comments designed to deflect the fun to others, but with little success.
Mrs. Garret watched this all with no comment, her gaze resting on the youngest Bennets. Having had the woman as a companion and voice of instruction herself, Elizabeth knew she possessed an innate sense of when to take young girls in hand and direct them and when to step back and allow them to make their own mistakes. Kitty and Lydia, in attempting to avoid their lessons, were inviting their father to forbid them from attending that night by their actions. And Elizabeth noted her father looking at the two girls more the longer they stayed.
“This morning’s breakfast has gone on longer than usual,” said Mr. Bennet a few moments later. While the youngest girls attempted to ignore his words, Elizabeth was certain they were in no doubt of his meaning. Mrs. Garret continued to sip her tea in seeming unconcern.
“Yes, is it not grand to spend such a lovely time in the company of those we love the most?” said Lydia.
“It is,” said Mr. Bennet. “But time spent in company now may inhibit that which is available later.”
Elizabeth was convinced it was Mr. Bennet’s offhand tone coupled with how he did not even lower his newspaper which informed the girls he was serious. And suddenly they were eager to retreat above stairs for their morning lessons.
“It is grand to sit in this attitude,” said Lydia, “but mayhap we should be about our daily tasks.”
“We are all awed by your diligence,” said Mr. Bennet, again not lowering his newspaper. Within a few moments, the girls had exited the room, accompanied by their companion, who was shaking her head, though in fond amusement. Soon after, the rest of the family went their separate ways.
Though Elizabeth did not find herself as easily distracted as her younger sisters, she might have found the hours remaining until the Netherfield party arrived to be long, indeed. Elizabeth had not thought much about men or her status as an eligible woman, except to note, with some despair, there were few men in the area who interested her and none who would consider her a potential wife. But somehow the meeting with Mr. Darcy had her climbing the heights of imagination, though she was always careful to rein it in.
Thus, when she spied Charlotte walking up the drive to Longbourn, Elizabeth was relieved she would have a visitor with whom she was friendly to keep her occupied for a time. Since Charlotte was interested in speaking of their new neighbors at Netherfield, Elizabeth was uncertain how much relief she was to obtain.
“You have met the new residents of Netherfield?” asked Charlotte with some interest when Mrs. Bennet made some comment to that effect. “That is curious, for my father has only become aware of their presence in the neighborhood this morning, and you know how he is always the first to greet new neighbors. He will be quite put out with you.”
Charlotte’s words, though perhaps a little more apropos than Sir William might confess, were spoken with a hint of irony which provoked laughter in them all. Mrs. Bennet felt a little satisfaction for finally gaining an acquaintance before Sir William managed it, and Elizabeth was certain Charlotte understood.
“It was my girls who first met our new neighbor,” said Mrs. Bennet. They had all agreed to avoid mention of the confrontation with Mr. Wickham, though Elizabeth would inform Charlotte herself before she left today. “What a gentlemanly man! U
pon making their acquaintance, he accompanied them back to Longbourn and greeted Mr. Bennet. And when I invited his party to Longbourn to dinner, he was quick to accept.”
“And what is the composition of the party?” asked Charlotte. “There have been so many rumors, I might expect a veritable army of friends in attendance.”
“The rumors are roundly overstated,” said Elizabeth as her sisters laughed at Charlotte’s question, so like the family’s previous conversation. “There is only Mr. Bingley and his sister and Mr. Darcy.”
“And what did you think of him?” asked Charlotte.
“As Mama said,” replied Elizabeth, “He was a very gentlemanly man. If Mr. Bingley is anything like he, I am certain they will be charming neighbors.”
Charlotte’s gaze lingered on Elizabeth for a moment, and Elizabeth wondered what her friend saw. She made no comment and did not tease as Elizabeth might have expected, choosing instead to pursue general conversation. Elizabeth promised to give her friend the first intelligence of the entire family on the morrow, and the subject was dropped for other matters.
When Charlotte sat with them for some time, she rose to leave, Elizabeth accompanying her. They made their way to the back lawn, where Elizabeth informed her friend of the truth of the previous day’s events, much to Charlotte’s interest. When she finished her tale, Charlotte shook her head.
“It had become obvious that Mr. Wickham was not a good man, but I would not have expected him to be so depraved.” Charlotte paused. “Then again, this event only reinforces what we learned of him at your aunt’s party.”
“That seems to be true. At least Mr. Wickham has now fled, and we shall not be required to concern ourselves with him any longer.”
Charlotte turned to give Elizabeth a pointed glance. “There is little to stop Mr. Wickham from returning, Lizzy. I know your habits. If he should come upon you while you are out walking in some remote corner of your father’s estate, I shudder to think of what will happen.”
“I considered that,” said Elizabeth, though not without a little vexation. “As loath as I am to curtail my activities, I suppose I have little choice, as to do otherwise is to invite disaster.”
“A sensible approach to this situation is the best approach, Lizzy,” replied Charlotte seeming relieved. “I should have thought you would dig in your heels and insist you would not be intimidated.”
“I have not said I would not walk, Charlotte,” replied Elizabeth, showing her friend a wry smile. “Only that I will take care.”
“However you take care, do so with an eye toward not allowing him an opportunity to harm you.”
Elizabeth shot a warning look at her friend, who laughed and allowed the matter to drop. When Charlotte spoke again, however, Elizabeth was not any better pleased by her choice of subject.
“What of this Mr. Darcy?”
“What of him?” asked Elizabeth.
The teasing smile and raised eyebrow with which she looked on Elizabeth provoked an exasperated shake of Elizabeth’s head.
“Come now, Lizzy,” said Charlotte. “I have always thought you had the best chance to snare any eligible man who came into the area. Have you succeeded in turning his head toward you?”
“More than Jane?” asked Elizabeth.
Regarding Elizabeth with a level look, Charlotte said: “Yes, I know Jane is acclaimed as the most beautiful Bennet daughter, but Jane is also quiet and reticent, while you are interesting. While a man may be enamored of Jane’s face and figure, a man would be sooner drawn to your wit and vivacity.”
“But one only has to look at Jane to see her worth,” said Elizabeth. “By your estimation, a gentleman must engage me to understand mine.”
A laugh was Charlotte’s response, Elizabeth joining her, diverted by their silly conversation. “You may laugh at me if you like. But I have always thought you have your own share of admirers, though you deflect attention to Jane. Now, tell me, Lizzy—what was your impression of this Mr. Darcy?”
“A gentlemanly man to be sure,” said Elizabeth. “In other circumstances, I believe I might have found myself drawn to him as you have suggested, though he has given me no indication of returning the sentiment. There is something dignified in his air, but not in any pompous or arrogant way, as if he is every inch the gentleman and will not settle for anything less than the best behavior in himself. In his account of himself, he informed us a little of his family his connection to an earl, which must be in his favor.
“Even in so doing, he did not state it with the intent to impress—instead it was nothing more than a fact. The gentleman is tall and handsome, listens when others speak and responds in a manner which shows his understanding of another’s viewpoint, his opinions well-founded and rational. My father thinks highly of him after only one meeting, and not only because he was the means of our protection against whatever devilry Mr. Wickham had in mind. I found him an altogether estimable sort of gentleman.
“There. Will that do?”
Elizabeth had intended her account as a means of silencing her friend’s questions and giving her everything she knew of Mr. Darcy. Far from rendering Charlotte mute, however, the way her friend looked at her told Elizabeth she had much to say. Even so, Charlotte did not speak for several moments.
“It will do nicely, Elizabeth. I had not expected you to be so open. I do so hope I shall receive an invitation to the wedding.”
Then, patting Elizabeth’s cheek as she turned, Charlotte departed, Elizabeth watching her as she made her way down the drive and from thence to the road which led back toward Lucas Lodge. Left to her thoughts, Elizabeth indulged them for some time after, wandering the wilderness behind the house, though ensuring she did not go far from it. And she wondered about Charlotte’s words. More than this, she wondered about her own reaction to Mr. Darcy, though they had only met twice.
The day of the dinner at Longbourn, Darcy found himself pensive. Having been so close to capturing Wickham and ensuring he was gone from Darcy’s life forever, he felt the mantle of failure settle over him. More than once he wondered if he should have acted. Now Wickham was on the loose again, secreted somewhere in the slums of London, the situation was the same as it had been before, and Darcy could not but wonder where he might strike next.
Then he would be reminded of the sisters who had captured his attention, allowing Wickham to escape, and he knew his duty was to see to them first, before taking his vengeance. The niggling thought of Wickham, possibly armed and always dangerous, gave him pause, and he knew Bingley was correct. That Wickham would be so depraved as to harm the man whose father he claimed to revere was difficult to fathom, but Darcy could not help but think Wickham had gone far enough down his path of selfishness and infamy that anything was possible.
It was not Darcy’s intention to ignore his hosts that day. Bingley, eager to avoid conflict which would arise if his sister continued her campaign to garner Darcy’s attention unchecked, suggested a ride that morning. Miss Bingley had shown ill-concealed impatience when they returned, but at least it had allowed him to be away from her company for a time. Then when in the sitting-room with the Bingley siblings, Darcy found himself again distracted, something the woman in question did not fail to notice.
“I wonder at your inattention today, Mr. Darcy,” said she after some time of this. Darcy had been sitting with a book in his lap, albeit forgotten, while Miss Bingley chattered on about something. Though he would not confess it aloud, Darcy neither knew nor cared what she had been saying. “One might think your thoughts were miles away from Netherfield.”
“You have my apologies, Miss Bingley,” said Mr. Darcy. “I have been preoccupied today about some matters of importance.”
Miss Bingley suppressed a huff. “Well, at least you are not imagining the delights that await us at our neighbor’s estate this evening. Then again, I hardly think delight will be our companion this evening.”
The titter which followed her statement
irritated Darcy, and he turned back to his book to avoid replying. But Miss Bingley was not willing to allow his attention to slip away again.
“What do you think we shall do to protect our sensibilities, Mr. Darcy? Perhaps a short stay would be advisable.”
“My sensibilities are not so fragile that I require preparation to protect them, Miss Bingley. They can well withstand an evening in company with your brother’s new neighbors.”
“And my sensibilities will never be offended by good and honest people, no matter their position in society,” said Bingley. “Perhaps we should turn our conversation to other matters.”
Though Miss Bingley sniffed, she did not continue with that subject and began to speak of other matters. Once again, Darcy focused more on his thoughts than the woman’s prattle, and though he noted her growing frustration at his inattention, it was akin to something seen out of the corner of his eye, noted, but not with any thought.
Later in the afternoon, Miss Bingley’s continual attempts to gain his attention began to grate on Darcy’s nerves. The woman was persistent—this Darcy could acknowledge, little though it pleased him. After a time, he began to consider the relative merits of returning to his room until they were to depart for their neighbor’s home. Then an interruption was provided which allowed Darcy’s escape.
“Cousin!” boomed the voice of Colonel Anthony Fitzwilliam, as he was shown to the sitting-room by the housekeeper. “And Mr. and Miss Bingley, of course. I hope you do not mind, Bingley, old chap, but after receiving Darcy’s letter, I thought it prudent to verify for myself you are treating my cousin well.”
“You are always welcome, Fitzwilliam!” said Bingley, jumping to his feet and pumping Fitzwilliam’s hand. “I informed Darcy to include the invitation for this purpose. Caroline, please see to a room for our new guest.”
Caroline Bingley had never liked Fitzwilliam. Though the woman was eager to prostrate herself to anyone she felt above her in society, particularly those with ties to the highest echelons, something about Fitzwilliam had always irked her. Whether it was his flippant manners, his tendency toward amusement—especially of her attempts to capture Darcy—or his often boisterous and sometimes satirical humor, Darcy did not know. The animosity she held for him Darcy had long understood, though the woman would not do or say anything to give this feeling voice. At present, she must resent his unannounced appearance, for though the trouble of preparing a room would fall on the servants, it was her time in Darcy’s company which was to be curtailed.