by A K Madison
“Poor Dr. Price! And Mr. Randall’s salary was so modest, it was taken from the estate and we never missed it. Losing Longbourn’s portion of that small sum will be a disaster. Who would do such an unkind thing to an elderly gentleman? And who would be hateful enough to leave someone as good as Mr. Randall in such a state?”
Uncle Philips shook his head. “I shall keep my opinions to myself.
Elizabeth stood abruptly. “We shall see about that. Uncle Philips, please come into the house and let me get you some tea.”
“Don’t worry about me, my girl. I can find my way to the meal.”
Elizabeth inclined her head to Darcy and her uncle and left to enter the house. Jane was chatting with Aunt Gardiner, and Elizabeth caught her eye and gestured toward the library. She also gathered Charles Bingley and brought him in. When the door had been quietly shut, she turned to her brother and sister and detailed the plight of Mr. Randall. “You two have been everyone’s rock and foundation throughout all of this. Could Mr. Randall stay with you at Netherfield for a day or two while he sorts out the mess in which Collins has placed him? I do not know if he can afford a room in Meryton.”
Jane spoke up immediately. “Of course. He is more than welcome and can stay for as long as he pleases. Let me take up a pen and paper and I will write the invitation at once.” They looked around them at the disordered room.
“Oh, dear. I shall have to remember to purchase some next time I go to Meryton,” said Elizabeth. “The little escritoire is in my room upstairs, and I know there are paper, ink, and pens with it.”
“I will be right back. I will simply sit upstairs and write the note.”
Elizabeth looked around and found Darcy seated, lost in thought, on the same garden bench. “Such a horrible man,” she exclaimed as she sat beside him. “I cannot believe he would behave so dreadfully to Dr. Price. Why, the man has been here since my grandparents’ time. He not only christened my sisters and me, but our father as well. And that would hold true for any family at Longbourn—in the village or on the estate.”
“I do not know much about the parish, Elizabeth. Is it a living that belongs to Longbourn estate?”
“No indeed! If it ever was, it ceased to be so before living memory. Dr. Price was always supported by the diocese here. The parish served the people on this side of the river before the bridge was built—in fact, before Meryton became as large as it is now.”
“Why, then, did your father feel it was necessary to contribute funds towards a curate?”
“Well, for several reasons. In the first place, Dr. Price is regarded as something of a saint. No one would be cruel enough to force him into retirement before he was ready. Papa knew that he would eventually decide to retire. Why force an old man? And in the second place, Mr. Randall was willing to come and serve as curate for a small stipend. My father joined forces with Sir William Lucas and an old friend and schoolfellow, Sir Henry Martin, and the three of them subscribed to pay his salary.”
“He must have been a very impressive candidate.”
“I believe so, Fitzwilliam. He has proven his worth here.”
Jane emerged from the cottage. “I have the note, Lizzy. Just let me run up to the house and I will have someone take it to the parsonage. I have invited Dr. Price as well. Since Mr. Randall’s arrival, they have just done with a daily woman. There is no housekeeper or other servant, and Dr. Price should not be alone at night.”
“Well done, Mrs. Bingley. I shall ride into the village and deliver the note.” Darcy stood.
“Have Mr. Randall drive Dr. Price here in the gig. That horse and gig belong to Sir Henry, and we should not let Mr. Collins get hold of them.”
“I will be certain they get here safely. Elizabeth, I know you will be having supper with your mother and sisters, but in light of Mr. Collins’ behavior yesterday, I should like to stop by after dinner to ensure that you are safe. You will have two footmen from Netherfield, beginning tonight, so that there is always a manservant at hand to answer the door, day and night.”
“If you believe it is necessary, dearest, I will not argue.”
Darcy returned to the cottage, and Elizabeth and Jane sat quietly on the bench. “I can tell right now that this is to become everyone’s favorite spot,” said Elizabeth with a smile. “It is the most comfortable seat in the garden.”
Jane looked around. “At the moment, it is the only seat in the garden. We must rectify that.” She was silent for a few minutes before continuing. “This will crush Mary’s hopes, will it not, Lizzy?”
“I am afraid so, and it grieves me. Did she confide in you, too, Jane?”
“She did not need to. I could tell. He seems a fine man, well-bred and well educated, and perhaps with a good future ahead of him. I wonder what he will do now.”
“His family estate is near Leeds, and he told us that he is the youngest of a number of children, mostly girls. But there is an elder brother. So, he will not want for family. But what of Dr. Price?” Elizabeth had no idea what might happen to their elderly friend.
“Well, I do know something of that. Mrs. Price died before any of us were born. But there are two daughters. The eldest is married to a gentleman who has a small estate somewhere around here. I am not certain of its exact location. And I also believe his daughters love him as much as we do.”
“Ah, good. Well, there is but so much we can do. Poor Mary.”
When the two sisters went back into the cottage, people were preparing to leave. The plan was to allow the Bennet ladies to dine on their own and have a quiet evening to themselves. The Gardiners would call on them in the morning before returning to Gracechurch Street. Jane would quietly arrange to entertain Dr. Price and Mr. Randall for as long as necessary. The footmen would begin their rotation of duty that very evening, returning to Netherfield to sleep.
Elizabeth, who was growing a little tired, went into the cottage. She found Kitty and Lydia in the back parlor trimming one of their endless bonnets. “This one is for Mary,” said Lydia. “Imagine her asking us to trim a bonnet.”
“Well, see you make a nice job of it,” replied their older sister with a tired smile. “Where is Mama?”
“She has retired. She plans to take a long nap, and she says she will probably take supper in her room. She will be down to breakfast in the morning.”
“And you two. Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes. Our clothes are unpacked, and our beds are made up and comfortable. The room is a little bit larger than the one we shared at home—that is, at Longbourn.”
Kitty joined in. “We decided we would be quite lost without each other. It is no difficulty for us to share such a nice, large room. And there is plenty of room for our clothes.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
Elizabeth went to the kitchen, where she found Cook presiding. “We have all been so worried about the state of this kitchen, Mrs. Walsh. Are you finding it to your liking?”
“Sit you right down, Miss Lizzy, and taste one of these scones for me. Here is some nice cream for it, and here is a cup of tea. You look as if you need to be revived.” Once Elizabeth had manifested every appearance of enjoyment, Cook went on. “The new kitchen is grand, Miss Lizzy. Every modern convenience including water right here at the sink. Imagine that!”
“And the stove. How is the stove working?”
“I thought we might never get it drawing, but it is fine now. I am content.”
“I am glad to hear it. That was an excellent scone, and I thank you, Mrs. Walsh.”
Elizabeth turned in time to meet Mr. and Mrs. Hill, who were coming downstairs. Both expressed pleasure at the new surroundings, though both looked a little tired.
“Let us have supper be as informal as possible so that we can all get some rest,” said Elizabeth. “Today has been long and difficult.”
Elizabeth finally found Mary in the study, where she appeared to be trying to make some sense of the arrangements of their father’s books and fur
niture. Her back was turned to Elizabeth, and when Elizabeth greeted her, it became obvious that Mary had been weeping. Elizabeth took her by the hands and gently compelled her to sit in one of the chairs haphazardly lined up in the cluttered room.
“It is over,” Mary began in a brittle voice. “All my hopes are destroyed.”
“Oh, do not say so, Mary. There is always hope. Has Mr. Randall—well, has he told you that he cares?”
“Yes, but he has also told me that it will be some time before we can marry because he is the youngest son. He has a university education and is quite a scholar in addition to his work with the poor near his home. We do have an understanding, or as much of one as we can.”
Elizabeth took Mary gently by the shoulders. “Mary, I will say it again. Do not give up hope. Plenty of clergymen marry, and Mr. Randall has the support and blessing of Dr. Price, a man loved and respected by everyone. Please do not abandon hope.” Elizabeth embraced her sister, but Mary remained stiff in her arms.
Mrs. Hill knocked and entered at that moment. “I have supper on the table for you girls—for you ladies—Miss Bennet.”
The dining room was pleasant in the candlelight, and Elizabeth was comforted by the fact that they had familiar china and flatware. A large tureen gave off the most appetizing scents of soup, and there was new bread and cheese. Kitty slipped into her place, saying that Lydia had decided to take supper upstairs with their mother.
“How is Mama?” Elizabeth was half afraid to hear.
“She is surprisingly well. She is a little sad, but I suppose anybody would be. She has gotten ready for bed, so she will not be down again this evening. But she is full of plans for going into Meryton tomorrow, and Lydia and I shall go with her.”
When supper was finished, they took their tea in the back parlor, which was fast becoming the family’s gathering place. Their familiar, favorite round table was there, and the room looked comfortable in the lamplight. Lydia came in, saying their mother had fallen asleep, and she and Kitty began to argue over what they would do in Meryton the next day. When Elizabeth had heard enough, she said, “One of you make a list, please, and at the very top of it place pens, paper, and sealing-wax. I cannot believe we have left all our best pens to that odious Mr. Collins.”
Lydia began the list in Elizabeth’s ever-present leather notebook and had the idea of asking Mrs. Hill if anything was required for the household. She was back in a few minutes with several requested additions, and she announced to the room at large that she was starting a Page 2 if anybody cared. Mary showed Elizabeth a catalogue of sorts which their father had kept of the books in his library.
“I had no idea,” said Elizabeth as she frowned at the document. “Do you suppose it will be of any help to us?”
“I do not think so,” her sister replied. “I will try to come up with a reasonable arrangement.”
There was a knock at the door, and Mr. Hill came in to announce Mr. Darcy. He followed close behind and had brought with him a very tall footman. “Ladies, this is Jerome, who has been sent from Netherfield by Mr. Bingley. He will be looking after the household at night until further notice. Mr. Hill, that should enable you to carry out your normal duties and sleep at night as usual.” It was soon decided that Jerome would be posted near the front door and that he and Mr. Hill would go together to lock the doors before Mr. Hill retired, usually at eleven. Mr. Hill took the tall young man in hand, offering to take him to the kitchen to be introduced to the other servants, and the two of them left together. Mary went to the parlor.
When Darcy and Elizabeth found themselves alone, he said, “It is a beautiful evening, Elizabeth, and the moon is just past full. Would you care to take a short stroll up the lane?”
“I should like that very much, Fitzwilliam.”
After a brief stop to inform her sisters, the lovers found themselves strolling arm in arm through the dappled moonlight. The trees on either side of the lane were dark, but they did not appear threatening. They wandered downhill until they could see only the lights of the cottage twinkling through the woods, and Darcy stopped and took Elizabeth in his arms. Their kiss was ardent, incorporating as it did almost a month of longing and separation. His lips on hers were rough, demanding, desperate. Each of them could sense a change in their closeness, a raw, physical power that had been banked until then.
They kissed again and again until Darcy finally drew away. “I thought a trip to London for you and your mother to shop for wedding clothes might be in order.”
“My mother will be in alt, and so will I. Have you any more plans?”
“Let us walk back to the cottage and sit on the bench, if you are not tired.” They strolled back to the cottage, arm in arm, and sat on the bench in the front garden.
“Now,” said Elizabeth. “What are your thoughts on our wedding?”
“I wish only for us to be surrounded by those we love, and who love us. Aside from the wedding clothes trip, I have not given it much thought. It is for your mother to decide.”
“I wish for the same thing. And as for my mother, though she does not speak of it, I think a small wedding will be less fatiguing for her after the efforts to settle in. She will not be difficult to convince.”
“So, you will meet me at the altar on April 27th at, shall we say ten o’clock.”
Elizabeth smiled up at him and kissed his nose. “Very well, sir. I will meet you at the altar on April 27th at ten o’clock?”
“I will be waiting, my dearest girl.”
Chapter 20
“We missed you at church yesterday. I had thought to see you on Easter Sunday.” Charlotte Lucas Collins, blooming in her pregnancy, had come to visit Elizabeth at Rose Cottage on the day after Easter Sunday. The two friends had settled in the garden, where the spring-flowering bulbs were at their peak.
Elizabeth’s face fell, though she found the strength not to blush. “I am sorry, Charlotte. But as fond as we are of Dr. Price, none of us felt we could properly worship at Longbourn. He is staying with Jane and Mr. Bingley, you know, as is his curate. Dr. Price is quite hurt, though he says nothing. He has been here since our grandparents’ time. And then there is the other matter, the one regarding the poor.”
Charlotte lowered her eyes. “Yes, much has been badly done on the part of my husband. And attendance has fallen off alarmingly as a result. My family still attend, and it is causing my father serious distress as he pays part of Mr. Randall’s wages, and he is still doing that. But the tenants and people in the village are no longer attending. On Sunday it was just myself and my parents and the servants from Longbourn in the congregation.”
“The tenants and villagers are attending the church in Meryton, Charlotte. The fee for baptism of an infant should never have been set at eighteen shillings. That is almost a whole pound! And it is not the usual fee which pays for a copy of the certificate. He has said it must be paid before any baptism can take place, certificate or no. Not many can afford it, especially since rumor has it that the rents will be increased.” She sighed. “I do not believe the tenants can be compelled to return to church at Longbourn. Your father is one of the wardens, and Sir Henry Martin is the other, and Sir Henry and Lady Elise are now normally in the congregation at Meryton. Geographically, Netherfield has always been a part of Meryton, but Bingley has always attended the church at Longbourn with his family and guests. He has stopped doing so now, and we attended church yesterday in Meryton with the other Longbourn people. I feel badly for you, Charlotte, but no one expected what happened. Longbourn is not your husband’s parish, and as I have said, there is a fund of sympathy for Dr. Price and for Mr. Randall.”
They turned their talk to more cheerful matters, such as the expected arrival date of Charlotte’s child. Elizabeth said nothing about the wedding. She was soon waving after the carriage—Longbourn’s carriage—that took Charlotte home.
Mrs. Bennet had plenty to say after Charlotte’s departure, and none of it was good. Elizabeth finally calmed her with th
e prospect of the proposed trip to London for wedding clothes. Their planned departure date was Monday, April 6th, exactly a week away. Mr. Darcy would accompany them, but they would stay at Matlock House with the Earl and Countess. Georgiana was in residence there, and it would be a first meeting for all of them. Mary, Lydia, and Kitty would visit at Netherfield for the week-long duration of the trip.
Despite the fact that the wedding was so small, Mrs. Bennet fretted over the wedding breakfast, receiving constant reassurances from Hill and Cook that all would be well. Unaccountably, she refused to consider allowing Jane and Bingley to host it, saying that they would have enough to do with all the guests.
Elizabeth whiled away a pleasant afternoon sitting with Lydia and Kitty over one of their endless millinery projects. After dinner, the ladies settled comfortably in their back parlor, which had become the family gathering place. Elizabeth, as she often did, announced she would sit on the bench in the front garden to await Mr. Darcy, who called most evenings. She got a shawl, as the evening was cool, greeted Jerome in his place just inside the front door, and slipped outside to sit on the bench.
It was deliciously cool, and the various insects and night creatures had taken up their evening chorus, when Elizabeth was startled by a familiar voice. “Elizabeth.”
She sprang to her feet, shouting for Jerome, just in time to see Collins enter the garden. He arrived at her side quickly, trampling a bed of her mother’s tender annuals.
“Miss Bennet is not available, sir.” Jerome interposed his considerable height between the two antagonists.
“Stand aside, my good man. I am the head of this family, and I will brook no disobedience.”
“Nevertheless, you will not see Miss Bennet. She is not available.”
“Are you not going to invite me in, Elizabeth?”
“I am Miss Bennet, and no, I am not. You have heard that I am not available to you. If your boorishness extends to ignoring that convention, you may say what you have to say and then leave. Jerome will stay right here.”