*****
Caroline Bingley too, was anxious, but not out of fear of rejection, as she slipped inside the house. It had been easy to persuade Esme Kirkwood… far to easy. The woman was most disreputable, despite her outward appearances. The merest hint of a handsome servant waiting to do her bidding was all that it took to send her running outside. In truth, she was doing Darcy a great favor by saving him from such a harlot. Just before six, Caroline had watched her footman exit the house with an armload of firewood. It was time. Moving casually through the ballroom, she nodded appropriately in passing her guests, promising a dance to one and later conversation to another in an effort to not appear obvious. But, upon reaching Lady Esme, she laid a gentle hand upon her rival’s arm.
“Do excuse us gentlemen, but I am in need of Lady Esme’s expertise on a domestic matter of some importance. We won’t be but a minute,” Caroline explained as she propelled a curious Esme to a secluded alcove. The area, curtained to keep out the cold, hid French doors leading to the gardens.
“I presume that there is no ‘domestic’ matter Caroline?”
“Of course not,” she laughed, “but gentlemen are quick to believe that sort of nonsense. What I do have is a very handsome young man that is dying to make your acquaintance… your private acquaintance.”
“Is that so? I trust he is to my tastes?”
“Definitely… I had actually wanted him for myself, but alas, his tastes run towards fair-haired women.”
“Well then, I should not want to disappoint. Where might I find this ‘gentleman’?”
“In the gazebo,” Caroline directed, pointing to the soft glow of lights from behind the shrubbery.
That was all it had taken to get Lady Esmerelda Kirkwood headed in the right direction. And if all went to plan, Caroline would simply say it had all been for Darcy. After all, who would presume a servant worthy of such preparation? Watching from her vantage point, Caroline waited some minutes before she spied Darcy making his way along the same path before following. It was a scene she would not miss for the world.
*****
Esme Kirkwood shivered as she hurried through the garden. Whatever surprise Miss Bingley planned had better be worth the ruin of silk slippers. Pushing open the misted glass door, a sly smile lit her features as she surveyed the scene. It was reminiscent of a sultan’s tent. Silk and velvet cushions were scattered heavily before a warm fire. Some sort of exotic scent had been added, sending a caress of spice across her face. However, the décor was not what appealed to her senses, it was the excellent specimen of man before her that was most pleasing. Caroline had chosen well indeed.
“Good evening madam, I shall be just a moment,” Jonas replied as he arranged one last log on the fire. He had removed his waistcoat to prevent any stains from the wood, revealing well corded muscles beneath the linen of his shirt.
Imagining what he looked like without, Esme placed a hand upon his back, idly smoothing away a non-existent wrinkle. “Oh, there is no hurry… no hurry at all. I may have a chore or two that needs tending before you go.”
“Whatever you wish, madam,” he acknowledged rising.
“Esme… call me Esme,” she whispered and drew him into her embrace.
Jonas, did as he was bid and crushed his lips to hers, grateful that Miss Bingley had not forced a hag upon him. This was one chore he would have done freely. Moving his hands up her form, as Esme unbuttoned his shirt. Neither heard the approach of footsteps outside as the crackle of the fire drowned out every thought but their own desires. Unaware of being watched, Esme did not see the shattered countenance of Fitzwilliam Darcy as he stood transfixed by the scene. His hand, still on the door knob, felt as frozen as his heart. It was not until the gentle addition of another lady’s fingers, prying them slowly from the handle, did he break his stare.
“Come Darcy, this is no place for us.” Caroline Bingley whispered softly.
“No… it is not. I am of a much different sort.”
If Caroline had noticed that she had not been included in Darcy’s declaration, she made no sign. It was enough that no engagement would ever be had between him and Esmerelda Kirkwood. There would be no embarrassing scandal, no marriage of misery. It would take time for Darcy to recover, but when he did, she would be waiting. If nothing else, Caroline was patient.
~Five~
Two months later….
“I know just the cure for your melancholy and have taken the liberty of arranging it,” Charles Bingley announced to his closest friend with an air of delight often possessed by a child who holds a handmade present for a parent.
“I am not the slightest bit melancholy, just rather tired of London society,” Darcy replied and immediately returned to the letter he was composing. It had been some time since he had written to his sister and would not have her worry about his prolonged absence.
“I disagree. All you do is mope about with the most disagreeable expression on your face. It sends the servants scurrying when you come near,” Charles countered, but his grin of accomplishment never diminished. He had expected Darcy to deny his disappointment. Having been appraised by his own sister of the discovery that Darcy’s intended bride was not what she appeared, Charles had not mentioned the matter, but allowed Darcy time to sulk. However, after weeks of refusing all social engagements and taking to retiring at early hours, Charles worried that Darcy was going to make himself ill. The previous week, on a business errand, he and Darcy had run into Lord Reginald Kirkwood. The man had demanded an answer as to why Darcy had yet to propose to his daughter.
“I was of the understanding that we had an agreement! I gave my consent, yet you do not act. I require a reason for this lack of propriety.”
Darcy had colored deeply, but not from embarrassment. In a rare moment, Charles could see that Darcy’s emotion was a barely controlled rage. Recovering, Darcy had bowed politely to the man and actually apologized.
“My apologies Lord Kirkwood, but it seems that your daughter’s affections lie elsewhere. I suggest you ask her about the company she sought at the Bingley’s ball.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Again, my apologies, but that is a question for Esme to answer, not me. Please excuse us.”
Charles had let the matter drop, but as Darcy’s mood had yet to improve it was past time for action. A change of scenery would do them all a bit of good. Now, with the arrangements having been made, Charles voiced his plan.
“I have taken a house in Hertfordshire, near a town called Meryton. I hear the countryside is quite stunning this time of year. There will be much to entertain us without the demands of London.”
“Meryton? I have never heard of it. Some backwater village filled with milkmaids and farmers? If I wanted beautiful countryside I should go home to Pemberley.”
“Don’t be a spoilsport. A change of scenery will be welcome. Besides, it is high time that I found a country estate of my own. Pemberley is without equal, but it is your home, and I simply a guest. Netherfield house may be just the place I am looking for, and I should like your opinion before I consider purchase.”
“You have always been welcomed at Pemberley.”
“I know, but it is not the same as being master of one’s own estate.”
Darcy could not deny the logic in Bingley’s quest. And after looking at the atlas, it was not terribly far from Pemberley. While he would love to have his friend closer, there simply were not any houses available nearer. Besides, since the debacle with Esme, Caroline Bingley had been overly attentive. Even in his antisocial state, Darcy was aware that Miss Bingley was plying her wiles upon him. Perhaps Charles was right, a change of scenery would benefit them all.
“You win Charles. I will come, but on one condition.”
“Anything! Name it.”
“Don’t try to play matchmaker for me with any of the local ladies.”
“Me? I should never consider such an act… but if one should catch your eye… well then what?”
“No one will. I can assure you of that.”
Charles simply shrugged, “Have it your way. But I intend to enjoy myself fully. Now that you have agreed, I shall leave you to your letter and order the carriage ready for the day after next.”
Darcy nodded in agreement and turned his attentions back to his writing. Sighing, he was only slightly relieved that he had not mentioned his intention to marry Esmerelda Kirkwood to his sister. Georgiana Darcy had such a tender heart and she would be in tears to think that he was suffering. It was best that she never knew. With each passing day, the pain of losing Esme had diminished, but it was not heartache from which he suffered. Darcy realized that he had never truly loved her, it was the idea of her. Esme had been a perfect match in all ways save one. She had never loved him, nor held even the slightest affection. He had been a conquest, a means to an end. No, his heart was not pained, what hurt most was his pride. Never again would he fall for the charms of a fortune hunter.
~Six~
The journey to Netherfield was uneventful as Darcy quietly listened to his companion sing the praises of the countryside and wave at every person occupied out of doors. It was difficult for Charles Bingley to see anything other than the most pleasant of possibilities, therefore making those around him equally so. However, Darcy was long accustomed to this display and kept his reserved criticisms to himself. The roads were less than adequate, the farms and crofts in need of repair and what persons that did speak to them bore the coarsest of accents. It was only the occasional passage by a well-groomed estate that gave any promise of civilization. Apparently, the circle of society to which he was accustomed was quite small in this part of England. To his mind, that circumstance bode for two unfortunate things, unmarried persons in desperate search of a mate, and great amounts of idle gossip. With a wry smile, Darcy wondered which would approach them first.
“An old acquaintance of my father’s lives out this way. A Sir William Lucas… I cannot recall for what he was knighted or even his appearance, but I took the liberty of writing a short note to announce our arrival. He may prove useful to provide occasional company.”
“A bachelor, is he?” Darcy asked absently. The last thing he wanted was hours of boredom filled with stories of lost youth.
“No, he’s married and has a sizeable family. As he was father’s friend, he is somewhat older than we, with grown children. Lucas Lodge is the name of his small holding. It is only a few miles ride from Netherfield. If you look just up ahead, there is the signpost to turn off.”
Scanning the road before them, Darcy read the single post bearing a number of arrow shaped markers. “Meryton 5, Lucas Lodge 7, Longbourn 8, and in the opposite direction, Netherfield 2,” Darcy read as they turned their horses down the road to Netherfield. Despite the distance stated, Netherfield house stood on a small knoll and they were able to take its measure long before reaching the drive.
“From first appearances, it does look quite acceptable,” Darcy said with all honesty. Netherfield was built in the neo classical style with a center main stair to a deep portico, flanked by a symmetrical number of Corinthian columns. There were two smaller wings branching off each side and a copse of trees behind, hiding all the buildings of function but not aesthetically pleasing.
“Only you would say that Darcy! But when one has a place such as Pemberley, I suppose “acceptable” is quite the compliment. I find it perfectly suits my tastes, hopefully the interior does as well.”
“If it doesn’t, I am sure Caroline will have no trouble changing it.”
To this, Charles only laughed. Indeed, his sister spent money with great ease, but if this was to be his home, no penny would be spared, especially when it came to the stables. Pulling his horse to halt, he alighted and yanked open the door to the carriage that had carried not only their luggage, but also his eldest sister. Caroline, in her boredom had fallen asleep. Waking, she took her brother’s proffered hand and stepped down, taking her first views of Netherfield. For a moment, Caroline was speechless as she frowned in displeasure before recovering her acid tongue.
“Why Charles, wherever have you brought us? There is not another house in sight, how shall I pass the time in the middle of nowhere?”
Charles Bingley kept his opinions silent as he smiled. He was pleased that Caroline already hated it, perhaps then she would consider marriage more seriously and leave. For despite seeing his dear friend’s disastrous attempt to find a wife, he was in search of his own. However, no high society miss was for him. There were far too many scheming cats like Esme Kirkwood and his own sister to go around. Charles Bingley wanted a sweet girl of good breeding who was content to live quietly in the country. And this was just the place to find one. Charles had chosen to not reveal the contents of Sir William Lucas’ reply to his letter. Not only was Sir William in possession of two unmarried daughters, but his nearest neighbor, a Mr. Bennet of Longbourn, had five. Surely, one of them would be a perfect match.
~Seven~
For the rest of the week, Darcy spent his waking hours inspecting the grounds and buildings that comprised Netherfield. He had to admit, Charles had found a rather well-appointed estate. It boasted multiple reception rooms, both formal and private, ten bedchambers, and a library that was well stocked with an array of classics as well as the latest novels. With more than ten acres of park, Netherfield also boasted paddocks, a sizeable spring fed pond and four tenant farms. Had Darcy been interested, he may have purchased the place himself. Now, as they took their afternoon tea, the gentlemen discussed the merits of the property.
“You say that the owner is quite eager to sell? Whatever for?”
“Apparently, this was used as a sort of dower house for unmarried female relatives. But, as the last of them have either married or passed on, he does not wish to keep it.”
“That does explain the immense amount of floral and rose-colored décor.”
“Yes, but that is easily changed. He even offered to make some of the changes with a full offer. I told him that I would make up my mind at the end of the lease.”
“And how long is that?” Darcy queried, but was denied an answer as the Bingley butler announced their first visitors.
“Sir William Lucas and Mr. Bennet.”
Rising, Darcy eyed both men critically. Near to one another in age, he surmised them somewhere past fifty, but bearing the benefits of an active lifestyle. That bode well for future engagements of the outdoor sort. Smiling he shook their hands warmly as Charles made introductions.
“I see much of your father in you. I was sorry to hear of his passing…and your mother. We were great friends at university.” Sir William said with true affection.
“He always spoke well of you and meant to visit but his health…”
“Very unfortunate, but he had a good life.”
“Yes, I can only hope to do half as well.”
Mr. Bennet, until now had not said anything, but peered about the room curiously. It gave Darcy the strange impression that he had misplaced something years ago and only now returned to retrieve it.
“How long will you be staying in the area? I know my children would like to meet you. Young Will is now married, his wife and my two grandsons live with us at Lucas Lodge. Alice and George have also married, but they live a few miles away near Cranston. It is just Charlotte and Maria now.”
“Some weeks at the very least. I am considering purchasing a house locally. My sister Caroline is here as well.”
“That is welcome news. It has been far to long that any new faces have settled here. We have become rather tired of our own company, but we do our best to keep entertained. That brings me to the purpose of our visit. In addition to extending an invitation to Lucas Lodge for dinner, there is an informal gathering in Meryton on Saturdays. A bit of dancing and music, nothing fancy, but it is a way to get to know some of the local families without feeling obligated. There is also a regiment of volunteers currently training in the area. The officers attend regularly, but it w
ould be refreshing to have more true gentlemen.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea. There is nothing I like better than a country dance. We should be delighted to attend… and accept dinner as well.”
Darcy smiled to himself in amusement. It had taken less than ten minutes for Sir William to make it perfectly clear that he had unmarried daughters in need of husbands. Trying to recall, Darcy did not remember if Mr. Bennet had grown children. In an attempt to appear sociable, he inquired.
“And you, Mr. Bennet? Do you have a family?”
“Yes. My wife Margaret and I are blessed with five daughters.”
“No sons?”
“I am afraid not.”
“They say that girls are the greatest blessing. I don’t know how I should manage without my sisters,” Charles interjected. He knew what Darcy was up to, and did not want anything to interfere with his own interests. If Charles had his way, every eligible young lady would be invited to Netherfield.
“Indeed, they are, but often the blessing is a mixed one. Sometimes I believe that only divine intervention and good brandy allowed me to survive their adolescence,” Mr. Bennet replied dryly.
This honest admittance of flaws in his own children was refreshing change from the doting papas Darcy had previously encountered. Perhaps Meryton and its residents were a pleasant change from London after all.
*****
The days passed quickly and Darcy soon found himself entering the throng of Meryton society. Trying his best not to shudder in revulsion, he wished it had been appropriate to remain at Netherfield. He hated crowds filled with strangers and the room was stagnant with the combined odors of human sweat and cheap perfume. The facility itself bore its own aroma. A multi-purpose hall, it had been utilized over the years as a place for town meetings and judicial proceedings to livestock sales and even a temporary hospital. As a result, attempts to gentrify the rough-hewn floors had been limited despite the linen draped tables for refreshments. Upon their arrival, it seemed that all eyes turned to inspect the newcomers. Charles, enjoying the attention, made the most of the occasion as Sir William Lucas escorted them about the room, making countless introductions to persons immediately forgotten. It was only when they encountered Mr. Bennet that the atmosphere changed markedly. After presenting his wife, a stout woman of small stature, with a shrillness to her voice that could shatter glass, he introduced his two eldest daughters.
Darcy's Heart Page 2