by Jennifer Joy
“Have you seen the state of her hem? She walks unaccompanied around the property and returns with a muddied dress and disheveled hair. How is that not wild?”
“I wish you would stop referring to her hems, Caroline. This is not the first time you have mentioned them, and I will not notice them any more acutely should you continue to talk about them.”
“You have to admit they are abominable,” Miss Bingley mumbled through a pout.
“Well, think what you might, I find her entertaining— though I do not always understand her.”
Darcy forced back a chuckle. Bingley’s honesty sometimes belittled himself.
“I do rather like Miss Bennet’s company. She is so gentle and kind. She reminds me of a blooming rose.” Bingley sighed and rested his chin on his hand.
Darcy stopped pretending to write his correspondence altogether to sit back and watch the show unraveling before him.
“You cannot be serious, Charles.”
“Why should I not be? I have an estate, and I have made no secret about my desire to take a wife. Why not Miss Bennet? She would fill the role admirably. Darcy, what is your opinion of the lady in question?”
He had hoped not to be asked, for he had not yet formed an opinion. If Georgiana was correct, he should not say anything to discourage Bingley in his affections.
After a moment’s contemplation, Darcy answered, “Miss Bennet’s manners in every way recommend her. I do not know her well enough to say more. I think that, perhaps, that question is better suited for a lady to answer.”
Miss Bingley raised her nose in the air. “You see, Charles. Mr. Darcy agrees with me. Besides, it is dreadfully boring here. We should pack the house up and return to London.”
Darcy opened his mouth, protest on the tip of his tongue. “I never implied…”
Georgiana walked into the room, humming. She smiled at Darcy.
“Is it not lovely here in the country?” she asked to nobody in particular.
Her timing was Miss Bingley’s undoing. “You enjoy it here? I should think a young lady about to come out in Society would prefer to spend her time in town preparing for the Season.”
“London is overcrowded and malodorous. I like being able to smell the rain in the air, and your neighbors have proved to be delightful friends. I wonder why you should want to leave.”
Miss Bingley folded her arms, confident in her opinion. “Still, the peace and quiet you speak of is nothing compared to the entertainments of the theaters and museums London has to offer.”
“Life is full of drama. I choose not to see it at the theater. I am content to wait until spring to return to London with my brother.” Georgiana sneaked a smile at Darcy.
Miss Bingley, unwilling to admit that others’ opinions may differ from her own, said, “At least some entertainment is to come our way. Word is that the militia will soon arrive to Meryton for the winter. Though why they should send the militia to such a sleepy village is beyond anybody’s understanding. I am convinced that nothing of consequence has happened, nor shall ever happen, here.”
“In my experience, which is not much, mind you, the militia causes more problems than not. They are sent to places to restore peace and maintain order and leave behind…,” Bingley checked himself with a glance in Georgiana’s direction, “…all sorts of mischief.”
They had no idea. So long as George Wickham did not form part of the regiment coming their way, Darcy could rest easy that he had made the best decision in bringing Georgiana to Netherfield Park. Besides, what were the chances that Wickham— one among a multitude of men— would be sent to Meryton?
Chapter 14
After six days at Netherfield Park, Elizabeth had mixed feelings about leaving. Jane felt better and there was no reason for her to continue at the residence, though Mr. Bingley was ever so welcoming. Miss Bingley… she was another story. She made it very clear how much of an imposition it was to have them in her home with her sneaky remarks.
Elizabeth would miss the Darcys. Even Mr. Darcy.
“How do you feel, Jane?”
“Lizzy, do stop asking. I am determined that we shall return home today. We have imposed long enough and I do not want to overstay our welcome.”
“It has been no such thing. If it was my decision, I would invite you to stay at least a month. Too bad we are not at Pemberley.” Georgiana sat between Jane and Elizabeth, the same place she had grown accustomed to over the past few days.
“You make it sound as if we were leaving the country. Our father’s estate is not far. You are welcome to call every day should you wish it,” said Jane.
“Yes, do please come. Mother would be thrilled. On second thought, you had best leave your brother here, and call with your maid. He would be horrified to spend too much time in her company.” For all Elizabeth’s teasing about Mr. Darcy’s high manners, she had grown to respect him. There was a solidity about him that made her feel secure. It was opposite to everything she had known growing up in the Bennet household.
“With the militia soon to arrive, I doubt I shall be allowed to leave the house lest I elope with an officer or some such foolishness.” Georgiana chewed on her bottom lip and looked anxiously between Elizabeth and Jane.
It struck Elizabeth as an odd thing to say.
“You are much too sensible for something so drastic. Perhaps we should have Mr. Darcy watch over Lydia. She thinks elopements are romantic.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and smiled at the thought of Mr. Darcy chaperoning her uncontrollable sister.
Georgiana did not laugh like Elizabeth had intended her to.
“There was a time when I suppose I would have agreed with Lydia. But, it was only a phase, and I grew out of it soon enough,” Georgiana said, smiling weakly.
In a dreamy voice, Jane said, “I never want to be ashamed of my love. Nor do I want to rush it when I can relish each moment and live the rest of our days content in our respect for each other. Respect and love. That, I think, would make a happy marriage.”
“Is it like what you feel for Mr. Bingley?” asked Georgiana.
Elizabeth held her breath. Jane spoke plainly with her, but she did not know if she would speak so candidly with Georgiana.
“I have grown to admire him very much,” Jane said with such emotion, it was clear that her esteem went beyond a mere tender regard.
Georgiana smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “I knew it.”
A knock on the door announced the arrival of their family. They had come to see the grandeur of Netherfield Park and socialize with its residents on the pretext of seeing Jane safely home in her weakened state.
Elizabeth groaned. Mother would say something foolish, Lydia and Kitty would chatter incessantly, and Mary would chastise them in her piety. Jane would endure Miss Bingley’s snide comments, and Elizabeth would do her best to keep the damage to a minimum with her good humor.
Darcy smiled at her when they entered the front parlor. Lydia, Kitty, and Mother were in raptures over the furnishings and the size of the room.
“Mr. Bingley, you must have a ball. Tell us you will have a ball!” said Lydia and Kitty in unison. Mother encouraged them. It was three determined women against one gentleman who would do anything to please the family of the lady he admired. He did not stand a chance.
“When Miss Bennet is fully recovered, you shall name the date,” he said in triumph.
Elizabeth did her best to keep the interview brief, reminding Mother that they needed to see Jane home before she tired. Mr. Bingley was quick to offer his assistance out to the carriage, assuring Jane she was welcome anytime she felt the least bit poorly.
Darcy walked beside Elizabeth out to the carriage. When it was her turn to enter, he offered his hand.
Her heart leapt into her throat as she accepted his help. She managed to mutter a thank you, to which Mr. Darcy said nothing. She could not help but look back and saw that he stood in the same spot, watching until they entered the drive leading away from the property.
Her sisters were too excited and busy talking about the upcoming ball to notice, except for Jane. She looked at Elizabeth with one eyebrow raised.
Shrugging her shoulders and sitting back, Elizabeth steadied her breathing so that her pulse might calm down. She could still feel the warmth of his hand on her skin.
November rolled around and with it came the militia to Meryton. They planned to spend the entire winter there before departing to their next location.
Desirous of running into Miss Elizabeth, tiring of Miss Bingley’s constant attempts to prove her superiority in household management, and weary of being stuck indoors, Darcy accompanied Bingley into the village.
They rode on their horses, talking the whole way. That is to say, Bingley talked the whole way.
It took no time at all for the conversation to rest on one topic: Miss Bennet.
“My admiration for her grows with each passing day. Never in my life have I been around such a pleasant lady. Even when she did not feel well, she concerned herself with others before her own needs. She is genuine, Darcy.”
Darcy nodded. “Georgiana seems to think so too. You have no objections to the family?”
“I am too easy of temper for their comments to bother me much. I love Jane enough to see past their faults and care only for her happiness.”
“That is as it should be. I congratulate you, Bingley.”
“When is it your turn, Darcy? Do you ever aim to marry?”
“I have always intended to see Georgiana settled before focusing on my wants. I should like to marry. Pemberley is too large for only one man to live in.”
“Do you really mean to wait that long? Who knows when someone may come along to sweep Miss Darcy off her feet. And there is the matter of your approving of him. That will be a difficult thing for any gentleman to accomplish.”
“Yes, I know. I think I will scare more suitors off than attract them. It is a fine balance to find. How to protect her without hindering her prospects…”
“Maybe taking a wife who understands feminine thoughts would be helpful to you. Have you considered that possibility?”
“Only recently.”
Bingley gave him a questioning look, but Darcy had already said too much and kept his silence until they entered Meryton. The streets were busy with uniformed officers milling about.
Bingley’s business would not take long, and Darcy, too, had a list of items requiring his attention before they returned to Netherfield Park.
Darcy moved through the sea of red and white uniforms easily. His first matter of business took him to the post office where he had the pleasure of seeing Miss Elizabeth.
All Elizabeth heard about that morning was the militia and how glorious and handsome the officers would be as they paraded through town in their striking uniforms. Her mother and younger sisters, not normally early morning risers, had no difficulty waking with the sun that day. They primped and preened at themselves, meticulously looking over the ribbons with which they would trim their bonnets and discreetly draw attention to themselves. They were incurable flirts.
Elizabeth wondered if the Darcys would call that afternoon. She was certain Mr. Bingley would.
The parade did not disappoint, though it was more entertaining to watch Lydia attempt to catch an officer’s— any officer’s— eye when they had been trained to look directly in front to avoid distraction. After the parade, Mother followed Lydia and Kitty in pursuit of attention from the gentlemen in red coats. Mother had regaled them with tales of a forbidden love with a young man in uniform in her youth. She encouraged the girls in their empty flirtations in the hopes that they might catch an officer for a husband, many officers being second sons of respectable families.
Elizabeth went to the post office to send a letter to her aunt Gardiner. She still held onto the hope that Mother and Father would allow her to visit her relatives in London in the spring. Mr. Bingley gave every indication that he intended to propose before too long, leaving Elizabeth alone. She would miss her sister dearly. A trip to town would be a welcome diversion. She held no expectations of any upcoming nuptials for herself.
The office was more crowded than she had ever seen it. Then again, the streets of Meryton teemed with people from the village and its outlying estates. The postman acknowledged her when she entered and signaled to her that she had correspondence by holding up a letter. Good thing she had packed some coins. She waved her letter in the air in turn, communicating to the postman that she also had a letter to send.
The door opened and closed so many times while she waited her turn, she stopped looking back to see who had entered. It grew warm in the room, and Elizabeth was glad to have her letter with which to fan her face.
A giggle and a not-so-gentle shove got her attention. She balanced herself in time to hear Lydia and Kitty chattering beside her.
“Oy, Lizzy. Mrs. Stevens is rather cross with me and will not let me buy a feather for my bonnet until I settle with her first.”
Elizabeth spoke quietly, hoping Lydia would catch on. “You owe her money? However did you manage to get into her debt?”
“It was easy enough. Last time I was in the store, I told her the ribbon was for Jane and that she would pay next time she came into town.”
“Lydia! You used Jane’s good standing and name for a bit of ribbon?” It was a struggle to keep her voice down. If Jane knew, she would be devastated. As it was, she had gone to the milliner’s with Mary with the goal of purchasing a much-needed new bonnet.
“What? It was so pretty and I wanted it very badly. No harm has been done, but Lizzy, she insists that I pay her, and I have already spent my money.” She held out her hand, confident that her more responsible sister would help.
“Kitty, have you no money left?” asked Elizabeth. If she gave Lydia money to cover her debt, she would not have enough for her letter.
“I treated Mother and Lydia to cucumber sandwiches. I have nothing.”
Elizabeth sighed. If Lydia had not brought Jane into the mess she had made, she would allow her to face the consequences and see how she could pay out of her own pin money.
Opening her reticule, she asked Lydia how much was owed and counted into her open hand the exact sum.
“I need more for the feather, Lizzy.”
“You shall get nothing more from me. If you want the feather so badly, you should save for it.”
No amount of whining would convince her to give up another coin. Lydia would have left with her bottom lip poking out had Kitty not teased her about how silly she looked. Elizabeth watched them leave, her stomach tying in knots when she saw who stood beside the door looking at her. Mr. Darcy.
She found herself standing in line to send a letter she could no longer bear to send. She still had it in her hand. How could she send it when she could not pay for the letter the postman held for her? Oh, why had she waved it in the air and fanned herself with it? Now, she had to find a discreet way to tuck the paper into her pocket and leave with her dignity intact.
Taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders, she turned to leave.
“Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Darcy bowed.
“Mr. Darcy.” She hoped he would be content with a simple acknowledgment while she continued out the door.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he started, making her pull her hand away from the doorknob. He leaned forward slightly, bending down so that the distance between them was not so great. He smelled of shaving cream and polished leather. He smelled good— so good she forgot to be embarrassed for a moment.
“Please, forgive my intrusion, but I could not help but overhear your predicament and understand the situation you find yourself in. I, too, came to send letters and yours could just as easily be sent along with mine if you will allow me to help you.”
Elizabeth’s face burned. Her mind knew she should recognize the kindness in his offer, but her pride at having Mr. Darcy’s judgments against her family justified drowned out all rational thoughts.
; “I do not need your help, Mr. Darcy. Good day.” She rushed out of the post office before he could say anything to further wound her pride— her stupid, errant pride.
Chapter 15
It was with a great sense of relief that Elizabeth stepped into the milliner’s shop. Mr. Darcy would not come here. She would say nothing to Jane, who sat with Mary looking at fashion magazines. Even Mary with her strict, unadorned ways liked to look at the pictures Mrs. Haven kept in her shop. Mrs. Haven prided herself on her stylish designs and through the magazines, her patrons were afforded a gleam of what fashions would arrive to Meryton two years hence. It was a shame that being within a day's journey of London, they should be so far behind.
Jane looked up to wave her over to join them. Holding up the magazine, she said, "Look, Lizzy, this is the very same trim Miss Bingley had on her gown at dinner our first night at Netherfield. Is it not lovely?"
"I believe Miss Bingley puts a lot of effort into appearing elegant."
"Such frivolity cannot replace real substance. What good are feathers and ruffles when the spirit is lacking?" Mary said, pouring over the pages of the fashion magazine and poking Jane in the arm when she turned the pages too quickly.
Elizabeth kept quiet, thinking of nothing positive to say about Miss Bingley and her sense of fashion. So, Jane spoke. "Frivolous it may be. But it does something to a lady when she knows that her dress compliments her and she looks good in the eyes of all who behold her. Maybe it is vanity, but I cannot think it all bad."
They sat in tapestried chairs near the front window overlooking the street. Several ladies milled about the room with lengths of ribbons in various colors in their hands, feathers and silk roses to adorn their bonnets, and accessories to make over the bonnets they already had at home. Elizabeth hoped Lydia would stay away from the shop.
Losing interest in the pictures of dresses she would never wear and bonnets she could scarcely afford, Elizabeth looked out the window. Her attention was drawn by the site of Danny Dixon crossing the street. He stopped short when a particularly handsome officer crossed his path. The officer was much taller than Mr. Dixon in size, with dark brown hair which was pulled back from his face. Elizabeth did all but push her nose against the glass window of the milliner’s shop to get a better look. There was no doubt, the officer was handsome. However, there was something menacing in his posture and the way he towered over Mr. Dixon.