“I truly apologize,” Mr. Darcy said gallantly, “I thought you were, perhaps, in distress and was trying to help.” Mr. Darcy was now tilting his head back to stop the bleeding, and he repositioned himself to see if his efforts had been successful. It seemed they had so he balled up the handkerchief and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he lifted his chin up slightly just in case the bleeding resumed.
Elizabeth looked mortified. What must he think of her? First, there was the visit this morning and now she had mauled the man in her sleep. “I am so terribly sorry!” Elizabeth said springing from her seat. She ran over to Mr. Darcy and without thinking reached up and pulled his face down so she could get a better look at his injuries. His eyes widened at the feel of her touch. Seeing his eyes change made Elizabeth realize where her hands were. She quickly dropped them to her sides. “Wait here, Mr. Darcy,” she commanded. “I will go see if the kitchen has something cold we can use to reduce any swelling.
Elizabeth rushed from the room while Fitzwilliam Darcy reached up and touched his chin. Her touch had been electrifying. His pain completely forgotten, he fell to the chair mesmerized by the woman who had just left the room. He had planned to escort her to the book store, but he knew now he was in serious peril and should not risk such an excursion.
A few moments later, Bingley came in. “There you are, Darcy! I have been looking all over for you.” As Bingley walked closer he stopped, “Your nose — is that blood?”
“It is nothing.” Elizabeth would be returning soon and despite his better judgement, Darcy would have preferred it if Bingley were somewhere else. If he was to deny himself a trip into town with the lady, could he not at least enjoy a few moments alone with her here?
“Well, I agree it is not a serious injury, but it is more than nothing. What happened?”
Before Darcy could respond, Elizabeth returned. As she walked into the room, her head was down and she was focused on the object in her hand. “I am sorry for the delay, Mr. Darcy, the servants needed to run to the ice house,” she looked up as she handed him a towel containing a few pieces of ice. “Oh, Mr. Bingley! I am sorry, I did not notice you were here. Are you here because of Mr. Darcy’s injury?”
“No, but I would like to hear what happened. He is being a touch evasive.” Bingley could sense an entertaining story lingering in the air. He made himself comfortable in the chair next to Darcy’s.
“I said it was nothing,” Darcy snapped. “Why were you looking for me, Bingley? What did you need?”
It was clear he would be getting no further information from his friend to explain the bloody nose, so Bingley decided to move on. “Right. I was just hoping to go over some issues regarding estate management,” Charles responded.
“Please do not let me keep you,” Elizabeth responded, “I was just leaving for a walk anyway.” She sent an apologetic look to Mr. Darcy but said nothing as she did not wish to explain her role in causing him harm. Then she made her exit.
Darcy held the small bundle to his nose and looked to Bingley. He reminded himself his friend had just done him a service even though his heart did not agree. “What issues did you wish to discuss?” he asked drily.
“Well, that business with the chamber maid for one. With Miss Bennet falling ill, the arrival of Miss Elizabeth, and this morning’s visit from Mrs. Bennet, I did not have a chance to get your thoughts. I have not previously had the need to employ so many servants. When it was just the home in town, I made do with a much smaller staff. This gave me an opportunity to get to know each of my staff on a personal level. But here…what with the gardens, the stables, and all of these floors… I guess what I am asking is if it is appropriate or desirable to develop such connections since I now run an estate requiring over forty servants.”
“Bingley, my father practically adopted the son of his steward. Clearly, my family believes in maintaining close relationships with our employees. Keeping in mind, of course, you must maintain proper decorum and propriety in any relationships you choose to develop.” Darcy thought of Wickham and added, “I fear I once failed in this regard and I do not believe my strong friendship with the boy did either of us any good in the long run.”
“Right.” Bingley stood from his chair. “This is what my gut told me as well. If you will excuse me, I will be out strolling the grounds. I would like to begin to get to know those who help this place run so smoothly.” Darcy watched as his friend left. It was clear Bingley was going to make a terrific landowner.
Chapter 10
Although only a handful of staff came into contact on a regular basis with the Bingley family or their guests, they were all aware that the mistress was difficult. Mrs. Butler frowned on gossip, but while this might modify when information was spread, it would never keep a good story from being told. But because humans find it much more fun to complain than to praise, the cheerful and kind disposition of the master was not as widely circulated. And so it came to pass that as Bingley made strides to learn more about his staff, he was met with suspicion, concern, and formalities.
Harry was cutting back the perennials when Bingley took him by surprise. “Hello,” he said in his chipper way. Harry had been tending to the gardens of this estate for more than five years, and this was the first time he had seen one of the owners much less spoken to one.
“You surprised me, sir.” In fact, Harry’s surprise had been so great, Mr. Bingley was lucky there was not a pair of pruning scissors inserted into his leg.
“Oh, I am sorry about that. I was just taking in the fresh air and noticed you. What are you up to?”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. Was the man checking up on his work? “Autumn has come early this year. I am preparing the gardens for a cold snap. Are you not satisfied with the ground, sir?”
“Oh, no. They are lovely. I just have not had an opportunity to speak to you before, and I wanted to introduce myself.” Harry said nothing further but nodded. “I am Charles Bingley. My family is leasing this estate.”
Harry nodded, “Yes, sir.”
Bingley rocked on his feet, hoping the gardener would break the awkward and uncomfortable silence, but after it became clear he was hoping in vain, he tipped his hat and continued on his way. This was the third such encounter he had endured this week. He simply could not understand it. Darcy, who could say no more than two words at the assembly, was able to name the children of each of his staff. Yet Bingley, who had always been social and gregarious, could not get more than ten words out of one of his. Bingley shook his head. He was going to need ask Darcy, of all people, for tips on how to engage socially with his own servants.
∞∞∞
Mrs. White was one of the finest cooks in all of Meryton. Caroline had no idea how lucky she was that she had been hired before her availability had become common knowledge. Knowing how difficult it would be to find a comparable replacement, Mrs. Butler went out of her way to keep the woman content.
Before the mid-day meal, the kitchen maid had taken ill. Mrs. White said she could make do without her. After the meal had finished, however, she began preparations for dinner and discovered the ice had not been changed in the icebox that morning. Some of her ingredients had now perished. “Mrs. Butler, could you spare Betsy for an hour? I need someone to run to town for a few items,” she asked. Permission was quickly granted and Betsy set off with a basket in hand.
Betsy enjoyed the outdoors and seldom had the opportunity to take advantage of them. Today in particular was a spectacular day. It was one of those rare days were the sun had gotten lost on its way to some exotic location and was forced to spend its day in the skies over England. The clouds, not knowing what a large ball of fire was doing on their playground, had run for cover and were nowhere in sight. Those birds, which had not yet begun their journey south, chirped loudly and Betsy listened to their music with awe. How such little creatures could fill the air so completely was a mystery.
When she arrived in town, Betsy’s cheeks were flush from the fresh air and exercise.
The look was very becoming and it did not go unnoticed by Joshua Smith. Smith, being a rather bold young man, caught up to the maid and began walking alongside her as if it was perfectly natural. “It seems we are going the same way,” he said as he eyed her sideways, “Are you trying to follow me?”
Betsy sped her step and attempted to ignore the young man, but he had no trouble matching her speed. In irritation, she said, “I am here on an errand. I do not have time to idly chat.”
“I might be mistaken but it seems to me, having met me has led to speeding up of your work.”
Betsy looked at the man, “What do you want, sir.”
“I want to get to know you, but today I see you are busy. So I’ll settle for your name and where I can find you again.”
Betsy was about to storm away when the wife of one of the shopkeepers, who had been posting a sign out front, happened to notice her. “Betsy, stop by before you leave town. You must bring some apples back with you to Netherfield Park. I am sure if Mrs. White tastes how sweet they are, she will build some into the menu.” Betsy waved to the woman and promised she would stop by in a few minutes.
Joshua Smith smiled and tipped his hat, “Until we meet again Miss Betsy, from Netherfield Park.”
∞∞∞
“Oh Lizzy,” Jane pleaded, “Do tell me everything I missed.
Elizabeth’s mood was quite lifted by seeing how much her sister’s condition had improved. Earlier in the day, Elizabeth had recounted the event that had occurred in the library, and now she happily reported Mr. Darcy suffered no noticeable damage from her attack. She further acknowledged the gentleman’s discretion, noting he had not informed the others of the incident.
“Can it be, Lizzy, you have found a redeeming quality in Mr. Darcy?” Jane teased.
Elizabeth considered, “Nay Jane, I have discovered several! According to Miss Bingley, he writes with great evenness and speed. I had not known, but judging by Miss Bingley’s behavior, such qualities are of the upmost importance. While Mr. Darcy denies writing with speed, by his own admission, humility is but an indirect boast, so I can only conclude he must write exceedingly fast and you, my dear, are the most conceited creature in Hertfordshire.”
“Pray tell, Lizzy, to whose humility was Mr. Darcy referring?” Given those assembled, Jane had a fair idea as of the answer to her question, but she hoped she might direct the conversation back to Mr. Bingley without needing to resort to more direct tactics.
Elizabeth’s smile was replaced with a scowl as she mentally recounted Mr. Darcy’s critique of Mr. Bingley’s character. “You must certainly know, Jane, a great number of ungentlemanly men find sport and reassurance in attempting to tear down real gentlemen for possessing moral superiority. As Mr. Darcy was the one on the attack, and Mr. Hurst is wallpaper personified, it stands to reason, it was your dear kind Mr. Bingley who was the object of Mr. Darcy’s unjust criticism.”
“While I must disagree with Mr. Darcy’s claim Mr. Bingley is anything other than the most modest and humble of men, do fill me in on all the particulars so I might not judge Mr. Darcy too harshly,” Jane implored.
At this urging, and to explain her own rough assessment of Mr. Darcy’s behavior, Elizabeth recreated the disagreement she had with Mr. Darcy that evening. Elizabeth’s production consisted of a single actress, but her superb acting skills left no questions as to whom she portrayed. While true to the verbiage of the evening, liberties were taken in the portrayal of the various players. Mr. Darcy’s character fulfilled the role of villain. Elizabeth allowed herself to exaggerate his mannerisms, causing the character to become a well done parody of the real man. Mr. Bingley’s character fulfilled the role of victim. To add to the comical nature of her recreation, this character took on some feminine airs. Elizabeth’s portrayal of herself as the heroine was also slightly altered to reflect a more masculine air, for it would be only fitting for a male to rescue Mr. Bingley, the ‘damsel’ in distress. Jane thoroughly enjoyed Elizabeth’s one woman play but questioned her interruption of the Mr. Darcy’s motives.
“Perhaps he merely wishes to discuss the philosophical merits of acting without information as opposed to attempting a personal attack on someone that is clearly his friend,” Jane observed.
“It is of no matter Jane,” Elizabeth countered. “His motives cannot excuse his behavior. He was clearly making his host uncomfortable.”
“As were you, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth considered Jane’s words. “Yes. But I was only doing so in an effort to defend our host. Surely that is less offensive,” Elizabeth reasoned. Looking at her sister, she could see Jane did not agree. “Well, his rude behavior carried forward. He continued to glare at me while Miss Bingley played the pianoforte.”
“Can you demonstrate this glare?” Jane asked intrigued.
Elizabeth looked at Jane for a moment doing her best to impersonate Mr. Darcy without any alterations.
“If your mimicry is accurate, as it normally is, I cannot see how you can classify that as a glare,” Jane concluded.
“There is no other explanation Jane!” Elizabeth was surprised she needed to spell this out for her sister. “I can hardly be the object of his admiration. The only other plausible explanations are that I have sprouted a second head or his fascination with my reprehensibility prevented him from tearing his eyes away.” Elizabeth made movements to suggest she was checking her body for unusual outgrowths. “I seem to still have only one head.”
“Well,” Jane said deciding to table this discussion for now, “What happened then?”
“Miss Bingley joined in the glaring.” Without being asked, Elizabeth demonstrated Caroline’s glare for her sister’s appraisal. This time, Jane agreed the look was in fact a glare. “The final humiliation was thwarted. Once Miss Bingley began playing a reel, Mr. Darcy asked if the melody resulted in my desire to dance. Well!” Elizabeth looked at Jane with triumph, “I said I would not care to dance, telling him I knew his little question was simply his method to force me to demonstrate my bad taste.”
Jane reflected on Lizzy’s summary of events. Mr. Darcy had been watching her, Miss Bingley had been glaring at her, and Mr. Darcy had asked her to dance. If Lizzy had not insisted it impossible, she would have concluded Mr. Darcy might admire her. Jane thought it better to withhold her thoughts, knowing Lizzy would find the possibility distasteful and ridiculous. Instead, Jane redirected the conversation back to more pleasant topics until Elizabeth took her leave so they could both get some rest.
The following morning, Elizabeth slipped into her sister’s room to confirm the previous evening’s discussion had not been detrimental to Jane’s health. In fact, the company seemed to have spurred her recovery, and Jane told her sister she was planning to spend a few hours, in the evening, witnessing firsthand, the humorous displays Lizzy had previously used to entertain her.
Lizzy was on her way out the door when Jane stopped her. “Lizzy, I have been thinking about something you said last night,” Jane paused to consider the best way to phrase her thoughts. “I think it possible Miss Bingley may have misconstrued Mr. Darcy’s actions. I believe she might be concerned you pose a threat to her perceived future union.”
Lizzy was shocked at the suggestion. If Caroline Bingley viewed her as a threat, she was far more daft than even Lizzy had thought. Not only did the man despise her, but the feeling was mutual. Further, Mr. Darcy would be expected to marry a titled woman so he would not be entertaining thoughts of anyone in Meryton, including Caroline Bingley. Lizzy would have explained to Jane how preposterous this notion was, but Jane looked exhausted and Lizzy considered Caroline was indeed a fool, capable of believing any fantasy. Elizabeth smiled at Jane, bid her goodbye, and left the room. Before Lizzy had reached the top of the stairs, she heard her name.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mrs. Hurst called out. “Is Jane doing well?”
Lizzy nodded then added that Jane was taking a nap.
Mrs. Hurst looked a bit let down, but responded with,
“I was wondering if you’d like to take a turn with me in the gardens. I cannot seem to find Caroline anywhere and thought perhaps I might find her there.”
Lizzy agreed as she had been planning to go for a walk anyway and would welcome the company. “That would be lovely,” she said with sincerity.
Louisa was aware Caroline was growing wary of their brother’s attachment to Miss Bennet. She wanted to get some words of encouragement to Jane, but every time she would attempt to visit with Jane, Caroline would insist on accompanying her. This morning had seemed like a perfect opportunity. Caroline was nowhere to be found, and Jane was reported to be on the mend. Yet, now she was napping. Louisa knew her time was running out. The Bennet sisters would be leaving Netherfield soon. Since Jane was occupied, Louisa would confide in Lizzy.
Once they reached the gardens, Louisa spoke. “Do you believe, Miss Bennet, one should marry for love?”
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