The Challenge of Entail

by Jann Rowland

  “I believe I shall take your words into consideration. Caroline has ruled us too long.”

  “I am happy you agree,” said Hurst, once again squeezing her hand. “Come, let us join your brother and learn more of this young lady who has caught his fancy. You never know—she might be the one to catch and hold his devotion.”

  “Perhaps she will,” said Louisa, allowing Hurst to pull her to her feet. “Suddenly, I am eager to make her acquaintance.”

  As Mr. Bingley’s sister was expected that day, Elizabeth had little notion of seeing either gentleman at Longbourn, and while she might repine the loss of Mr. Darcy’s company, the visit of a dear friend amply distracted her. And Elizabeth was to learn of a new development which was a surprise to her, as much because she had not heard it before as that the gossips of Meryton had, it seemed, not heard of it either.

  “Well, Lizzy, are you still happy with your suitor?” Charlotte turned to Jane. “And you too, Jane. I suppose they visit daily, and you have come to expect them!”

  “That is near to the truth,” inserted Mary with a grin for her elder sisters. “They seem to be quite pleased with my sisters, though I doubt Miss Bingley is similarly happy.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “The woman is as sour as a lemon and not as sweet.”

  “It is sad, in my opinion,” said Jane quietly. “Mr. Darcy shows no interest in her, but she is desperate to become his wife. One can only assume it is for his wealth and position in society, which, as I understand, are to be envied.”

  “That is the most unforgiving statement I have ever heard you make!” exclaimed Charlotte. “Good for you! It seems the troubles with Mr. Wickham and Mr. Collins have taught you something, Jane.”

  Embarrassed, Jane looked to the floor. “They have. I have learned to be more cautious.”

  “Does this caution extend to the interest Mr. Bingley to have in you?” asked Charlotte.

  “If you mean whether his sister will influence any overtures Mr. Bingley makes, it is possible,” replied Jane. “But it will depend on the gentleman himself. It is not a crime to have a difficult sister—it is far more important to determine how he handles her. I will note, however, that it is still premature for expectations to be raised, for Mr. Bingley has made no mention of any such sentiments.”

  “Nor should he,” said Elizabeth. “It is still early in your acquaintance, after all. While I would assert we understand Mr. Bingley’s character well, I should prefer to see you become more comfortable with him before you take such a momentous step.”

  Jane flashed her a smile. “If I am not very much mistaken, I believe you are closer to an impulsive decision than I am.”

  “Decisive, dear Jane. It is not impulsive, only decisive.”

  They all laughed at Elizabeth’s jest, their mirth flowing freely for several moments. When it had run its course, Charlotte was the first to speak.

  “You may call it what you like, Lizzy. It is not a calm and rational decision, not one you are urging your sister to make.”

  “When is love rational?” asked Elizabeth. “If Jane should feel for Mr. Bingley as much as I suspect she can and be certain of his character and ability to support her, I should not advise her to delay.”

  “This is the first time any of us have mentioned love, Lizzy,” said Jane, Mary chortling by her side.

  “Is that not what we have determined we shall have?” asked Elizabeth. “Just because I have said the word does not mean I am caught in its throes.”

  “It is likely you are not,” said Mary. “It is equally likely you are not far off.”

  “Speaking of love,” said Charlotte, “I have news I would share with you, first, of all the neighborhood.”

  “Oh?” asked Elizabeth, curiously resting her eyes on Charlotte. “Has someone caught your eye?”

  “You need not show such disbelief!” cried Charlotte, swatting at Elizabeth. “Am I not able to attract a gentleman?”

  “Eminently capable,” replied Elizabeth, meaning every word. “Your words have always betrayed you to be a practical woman. Have you not always informed me that a good home with a respectable man is all you desire?”

  “And that has not changed,” replied Charlotte. “My practicality has not wavered, Lizzy, but I must own that being the object of a gentleman’s attentions is far pleasanter than I might have expected.”

  “Who, Charlotte?” asked Elizabeth, her sisters clamoring for details.

  “Mr. Pearce,” said Charlotte, a look of satisfaction displayed for them.

  “Why, he is Longbourn’s neighbor to the north!” said Elizabeth. “Papa does not have many dealings with him, but I understand his estate is a little larger than Longbourn.”

  “He is also the father of two daughters and wishes for an heir, and a mother for his daughters. Last week he called at Lucas Lodge and has been calling on me ever since.” Charlotte paused and smiled, a self-deprecating display. “Though he is not the master of a great estate in the north, I find I am happy with him, for he is gentlemanly and appears to esteem me greatly.”

  “Of course, he does,” said Elizabeth warmly, grasping her friend’s hands. “Any man must be a fool if he does not. And wealth is all relative, in my opinion—compatibility and happiness with one’s partner is a much greater concern.”

  “Though I might have disagreed with you not long ago, I can now see the merits of your position.”

  The ladies continued to speak in a lively fashion, thereafter, sharing their hopes and dreams and expectations for the future. As she had informed her friend, Elizabeth was pleased for Charlotte, having thought for many years that Charlotte’s disposition, along with her practicality and intelligence, would make her a good wife. That someone had seen that potential was all Elizabeth had ever wished for her friend.

  When Charlotte rose to depart, Elizabeth accompanied her to the vestibule to see her off. As she was donning her hat and gloves, Charlotte turned to Elizabeth with a question.

  “Lizzy, our conversation today consisted of much merriment, but I wish to be serious at present. This Mr. Darcy—if he should offer for you, are you inclined to accept him?”

  “At present, I hardly know,” replied Elizabeth. “I will, however, inform you I like Mr. Darcy very much. A better man I do not think I have ever met.”

  “Then that is all I wish for you. With your romantic nature, I always thought it would be difficult for you to find a partner who would meet your standards, and your tendency toward cynicism does not help. If he is a man who will answer every question of your future happiness, I am well content.”

  Then Charlotte squeezed her hand and departed. How long Elizabeth stood there considering her friend’s words and the man of whom they had spoken, Elizabeth did not know. Eventually, the cold of the room prompted her to seek the warmth of the hearth in the sitting-room. The thoughts of Mr. Darcy, however, did not subside.

  Chapter XIX

  Having heard, albeit briefly, from Hurst concerning the disagreement between sisters and his subsequent words with his wife, Darcy found himself relieved that Miss Bingley could not count on her sister for support. Mrs. Hurst was not a bad sort at heart, but the two sisters united often made Darcy uncomfortable, especially when they praised Georgiana to elicit his favor or schemed to recommend Miss Bingley to him. Long had Darcy known the elder sister deferred to the younger—should this new dynamic between them persist, he thought he could expect a more restful stay in Bingley’s company.

  When they left for Longbourn the next morning, Bingley eager to introduce his sister to the family of the woman who seemed to have caught his fancy, Darcy might not have known there had been a disagreement had he not heard of it. Miss Bingley, it seemed, still considered her sister a supporter and confederate, given the words which punctuated the short journey.

  “I would not prejudice your opinion before meeting our new neighbors,” said she, her next words giving the lie to the first. “But there is little o
f sophistication—or even proper behavior—to be found among them. While the eldest is tolerably well behaved, the younger are not, particularly the two youngest, who are positively wild. Mr. Bennet shows an astonishing sardonic contempt of everyone he meets, and Mrs. Bennet is uncouth and uncultured.

  “And the entire neighborhood is the same!” exclaimed she, professing disappointment. “I had high hopes for our brother’s home, but there is little of worth any of them.

  “Why, did you know Mrs. Bennet actually asked me concerning the lace on my gown?” Miss Bingley gave an indelicate snort. “Then again, I suppose French lace is a luxury which cannot ever have made its way to this backwater community.”

  “Thank you, Caroline, for your interesting commentary,” interrupted Bingley. “I am certain Louisa may take the Bennets’ likeness without your commentary.”

  Hurst grunted in amusement while his wife remained carefully noncommittal. If Bingley thought for one moment his rebuke would silence his sister, he would soon be disappointed.

  “I would not have her enter Longbourn without preparing her first, Charles,” replied Miss Bingley. “It is a country home, an attempt having been made at its gentrification, I suppose, but small and dingy, compared with some of the great houses we have seen.”

  Miss Bingley’s eyes flicked to Darcy, betraying her meaning to them all. “There is little difference between it and the other hovels this unfortunate neighborhood boasts, making Netherfield, as inadequate as it is, a veritable palace by comparison. If Mrs. Bennet has redecorated her sitting-room in the past fifteen years, I am certain I can see nothing of it, not that I would trust her taste regardless, for I am sure she has none.

  “And perhaps the most shocking thing you will see is how much our brother and Mr. Darcy treat the Bennets as if they were veritable nobility. I cannot account for it, for Mr. Darcy, in particular, has always shown his discerning and discriminating nature. Perhaps the Bennets are practitioners of the occult, for I know no other way in which he could be misled in such a fashion.”

  “Oh, look!” exclaimed Mrs. Hurst, neatly cutting her sister off. “What a perfectly charming little church.”

  “That is Longbourn church,” said Bingley with a sly look at his other sister, while Miss Bingley sat mouth agape. “It is where we have attended church while we are in the neighborhood.”

  “And I suppose that is Longbourn beyond?” asked Mrs. Hurst, pointing out the front of the carriage. “It seems delightful. In the summer, when the blossoms are blooming, I can imagine the rose gardens must be divine.”

  Between them, Mrs. Hurst and Bingley carried the conversation, their sister glaring at them both as if betrayed. While Darcy had never had any great opinion of Mrs. Hurst, in this instance he could only tip his cap to her, for she had disarmed Miss Bingley’s crass ridicule of the neighborhood and the Bennets and all without provoking an argument. Bingley had been on the verge of commanding his sister to be silent, so it was all the more diplomatic of her to have diffused the situation.

  When they entered into the sitting-room, the Bennets regarded them with curiosity for the new members of the party, though Darcy thought he detected a hint of wariness. It was understandable since it was reasonable to assume that in Mrs. Hurst, they were about to meet another lady of Miss Bingley’s ilk. Within moments, however, the tension lessened, as Mrs. Hurst proved both friendly and eager to meet them, much to her sister’s disgust. Then, she was seated with the two eldest Bennet daughters, speaking of matters of interest to young ladies. Then, a few moments later, she spoke loudly, the pièce de résistance, in Darcy’s opinion.

  “Oh, Mrs. Bennet, that is lovely French lace on your gown. You must tell me where you found it, for I should love to procure some.”

  Though Mrs. Bennet did not understand Mrs. Hurst’s significant glance at her sister—nor the scowl with which Miss Bingley replied—she was clearly pleased to speak of it.

  “It is from my brother. He is an importer, and his warehouse is filled with such treasures as this.” Mrs. Bennet swept her hand out, indicating her eldest three daughters who were sitting nearby. “All our fabrics come from my brother’s warehouse, for he obtains the most beautiful materials I have ever seen.”

  “Yes, I can see your dresses are made of the most excellent fabrics,” said Mrs. Hurst. She then turned back to Mrs. Bennet. “Please, tell me more, Mrs. Bennet. I am eager to make your brother’s acquaintance.”

  “Of course, you are!” said Miss Elizabeth, her eyes dancing with laughter. “For what woman can refuse the promise of fine dresses?”

  The ladies all laughed together and fell into further conversation, and had Darcy been more conversant regarding ladies’ fashions, he might have attempted to follow it. As it was, his knowledge was limited, though he had found of late that his approval was more often given to whatever Miss Elizabeth Bennet wore that day. And so he might have continued to observe her, had Mr. Bennet not spoken, drawing the attention of all the men.

  “I hope you do not mind my wife spending your money, Mr. Hurst,” said he, nodding at the womenfolk. “Though my wife has learned some measure of economy, she still succeeds in spending much of my income on dresses, lace, and other feminine fripperies.”

  “Anything to keep the ladies happy,” replied Hurst. “Though it could be said my wife possesses expensive tastes, I am eager to indulge her.” Hurst paused and grimaced. “Or do when I possess the means. My father, you understand, keeps a tight hold on the purse strings.”

  Mr. Bennet laughed. “I was fortunately spared the indignity of depending on my father for funds, as I inherited the estate before I married.”

  The conversation continued from there, the two men speaking of estate matters and the foibles of miserly fathers, Bingley chiming in from time to time with various observations from his own experiences. It seemed to Darcy that Mr. Bennet was becoming friendly with Hurst, for it seemed their senses of humor were similar in many respects, as were their general outlooks on life.

  Darcy listened with half an ear and ventured opinions when he thought it least likely he would be required to elaborate. Instead, he concentrated on watching Miss Elizabeth, noting with pleasure how animated she became when speaking, her great joy in good company, and how she put others at ease with such effortless and instinctive good cheer. She was unlike any other woman Darcy had ever met.

  As the visit passed, Darcy found the opportunity to once again bask in her presence, unsurprised when he heard the first subject she raised between them. “It seems, Mr. Darcy, that we may have quite misjudged Mrs. Hurst without meeting her. I was convinced she would be nothing more than an image of her sister, though as the elder, I suppose it may be more correct to say that Miss Bingley would be an image of her.”

  “In the past, you might not have been incorrect,” replied Darcy.

  “Indeed?” asked Miss Elizabeth.

  “Since I have known them,” replied Darcy, “they have always been close, their opinions aligned. While I cannot say what brought about this alteration, it seems Mrs. Hurst has decided not to support her sister any longer.”

  Miss Elizabeth laughed. “That must be a relief for you, sir, given what I have seen of Miss Bingley’s ambitions.”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny your supposition, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy with a wink.

  “Then I shall not press you further,” said Miss Elizabeth, still chuckling. “Let us simply say that for whatever it is worth, we find Mrs. Hurst to be an admirable woman and look forward to coming to know her better.”

  “It is worth much, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Darcy.

  Their conversation wound on from there, touching on many subjects, as was their wont. Darcy found himself becoming more and more entranced by the woman’s manners and the sheer allure of her person. He could not have resisted her if he had been of a mind to try—and that he most certainly was not.

  It was not long before they began to attract attention from a
most unwelcome source. Miss Bingley, it seemed, was not willing to yield the field to the superior combatant.

  “Of what are you speaking, Mr. Darcy?” said the woman in a loud voice as she approached them.

  “We are talking of the subject of the Luddite unrest in the north, Miss Bingley,” said Miss Elizabeth, an expressive look at Darcy showing her amusement at the woman’s actions.

  “You are?” asked Miss Bingley, her eyebrow lifted in skepticism. “That is a singular topic, Miss Bennet, and not a subject gentle ladies should be discussing.”

  “Should ladies not be aware of the world in which we live?” asked Elizabeth. “In fact, I suspect there is little of which ladies should not talk, especially if we believe our opinions have merit.”

  “There is little to be said,” replied Miss Bingley, her manner condescending. “The leaders should be rounded up and hanged. The next time the rabble considers such rebellion, perhaps they shall think twice of it.”

  “Would you have England go the way of France? Was the kind of oppression you propose not directly responsible for the revolution there? Where will we all be if the lower classes of England rise against us?”

  “England is not France, Miss Elizabeth,” said Miss Bingley, her nose firmly thrust into the air.

  “No, but people are people, wherever one may find them. It seems to me the workers have a legitimate grievance—they are fighting for their livelihoods, their means of feeding their families. That is something we cannot ignore.”

  Miss Bingley fixed a cold glare on Elizabeth. “Then you agree with their methods and support the threat of violence.”

  “Violence should, of course, always be condemned,” said Miss Elizabeth, keeping her composure admirably. “My remarks were neither praise for their methods, nor did I applaud anything done with evil intent. All I suggested is that when a man’s livelihood is at stake, it is hardly surprising he would wish to defend it. Take, for example, your brother—should his income be threatened, would he not act, knowing his ability to provide for his future family might be compromised?”