by J P Christy
“Mrs. Bennet is not like Aunt Catherine! Our aunt is a lady.”
“Well, at least the Bennets have a home, small though it may be.” Georgiana, who had been staring at the fire, now glanced at Darcy but found his expression unreadable. “Brother?”
“The estate is entailed. Upon Mr. Bennet’s passing, Longbourn will go to a cousin, a parson.”
“Oh dear! Well, a clergyman; will he not provide—”
“I sincerely doubt it.” For pity’s sake, just tell her the details and be done, he told himself sternly. “Mr. Collins is a pompous, greedy man whose idea of Christian charity begins and ends with his own comforts and his excessive need for admiration.”
“Is this the same Mr. Collins who is Aunt Catherine’s parson?”
“The same.” Sighing, he raised his glass to his lips but then paused. “Please refrain from making any comment until I have some of my drink.” Georgiana nodded, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling. After taking a swallow of brandy, he gave her a slight nod.
“Anne writes such dreadful reports of the man, although she likes his wife well enough,” Georgiana said.
“She is the former Miss Charlotte Lucas. She married a fool but did so with her eyes wide open.”
“Why?”
“Mrs. Collins, who is a close friend of Miss Elizabeth’s, is also from Hertfordshire. She is in her late twenties and, as I mentioned, there was—is—a dearth of potential matches.”
“Anne said Mr. Collins proposed first to Miss Elizabeth. She believes Miss Elizabeth had too much self-respect to accept him, even if it meant saving her family.”
Just as she rejected me. “I do not believe that was a wise decision for her to make.”
“Is it wise to choose a certainty of unhappiness? I think not,” Georgiana said with spirit. “And as she has four siblings, why should Miss Elizabeth be responsible for rescuing the family? If at least one of the young ladies marries to the expected station of a gentleman’s daughter, the family would not be reduced to poverty. Did Mr. Bingley want to marry Miss Bennet?”
“It is difficult to know how sincere Bingley’s affections are.” Feeling pressed by Georgiana’s look, Darcy reluctantly added, “But, yes, he developed a tendre for Miss Bennet, and I admit she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. However, Bingley’s sisters disapproved.”
“Why?”
“Their family is but one generation removed from trade. To marry a penniless country miss, even if she is the daughter of a gentleman, would not serve their aspirations.”
“The way marrying me would have served George Wickham’s aspirations.”
“Your situations are not the same!”
“Do you believe Miss Bennet is mercenary? Do you believe she views Mr. Bingley as merely a means of rescuing her family from reduced circumstances?”
“Last year, I thought it likely her family would pressure her into accepting a proposal even if she did not love the man who offered for her. I believed I was saving my friend from the pain of an unequal marriage.”
“Is Miss Bennet kind?”
He nodded slowly, trying to recall Jane Bennet clearly. “She is quiet and reserved, but in a friendly way. She smiles rather a lot, but I don’t suppose this is a bad thing.” Then he thought of Mrs. Bennet and grimaced. “Oh, but her mother is uncouth, loud, and foolish, and her youngest sisters are vulgar, flirtatious, empty-headed, and everything you must never become!”
“But Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth are not like that.”
“Indeed not. They are well mannered, well spoken, gracious, and thoughtful. And Miss Elizabeth is not merely intelligent; she is clever. I wish you could have seen her when Caroline Bingley attempted to demean her, solely from jealousy. Miss Elizabeth’s responses were witty and yet gentle. One could see that Caroline suspected she had been put in her place, but she was never quite certain how it had come about.”
“What did you tell Mr. Bingley this evening?”
“I said that when I was at Rosings, Miss Elizabeth mentioned her sister’s regard for him. I also admitted I had failed to tell him of Miss Bennet’s presence in London for the past few months, as Caroline had told me of her visit and asked me to keep it a secret.”
“Caroline? Oh, my dearest brother. What have you done?” Setting aside her now-empty glass of port, Georgiana rose from her chair and came to embrace him where he sat.
I do not deserve her kindness, Darcy thought as he relaxed into his sister’s arms.
13
“Miss Darcy will be the lady of the manor.”
May 13, 1811
When Ashton appeared in the breakfast room to ask whether Darcy was expecting a visit from Mr. Bingley, the butler’s tone implied his disapproval of such an early-morning call. Darcy, however, felt a rush of relief. “I am happy to see him whatever the hour. Please show him in here.”
Moments later, a smiling Bingley entered. “Good morning, Darcy. May I join you?”
Darcy stood and greeted him cautiously. “Good morning. There is coffee in the pot on the table. Or would you prefer tea?”
“Oh, either is—” abruptly, Bingley stopped. “I must stop acting as if I have no preferences—brandy or port, coffee or tea. Choosing not to specify what I prefer does not make me more likable.”
“So, coffee or tea?”
“I don’t suppose you have hot chocolate? No, or you would have offered. Tea, then.”
Darcy grinned. “Chocolate is Georgiana’s preference, as well, so our kitchen is always prepared.” Ashton, who had been waiting at the doorway, gave a slight nod and left to arrange for chocolate.
After filling a plate, Bingley sat opposite Darcy. “Thank you for letting me disturb you so early.”
“Thank you for not challenging me to a duel.”
Entering, Georgiana asked cheerily, “Is there to be a duel?”
“No,” Darcy said. Bingley, chewing a piece of toast, shook his head in the negative.
“Good. I’ve nothing to wear for an event of that sort.”
Darcy looked at her with amusement. Impertinent again; I fear I am beginning to enjoy it. “A pot of chocolate is being prepared. Will you join us?”
“I will, thank you.” Georgiana sat in the chair beside Bingley and gave him her warmest smile. “How are you this morning, sir?”
“I am returning to Hertfordshire to ask Miss Jane Bennet for a courtship. I have already sent an express to have Netherfield Park readied, and I asked Miss Bennet’s uncle—he handled the lease—to arrange for a staff. I will leave in a week.”
“We wish you good luck in your efforts,” Darcy said sincerely.
“I need more than your good wishes, Darcy. I need a hostess. Thus, I am inviting you and Miss Darcy to join me.”
“How wonderful! But what about your sister Caroline?”
Bingley made a show of consulting his pocket watch. “Within the hour, my sister will be on her way to our aunt in Scarborough. Last night, she and I had a vigorous and open discussion, possibly our first since we were children. And I discovered that I am quite comfortable expressing myself vigorously and openly.”
“Thus, you need a hostess.” After a quick glance at her brother, Georgiana said, “I would very much like to go, but I do not wish to usurp your sister’s place.”
“Caroline’s place is somewhere other than where Miss Bennet is,” Bingley said firmly. “As for your companion—Mrs. Annesley, is it? If you wish to include her, she is most welcome.”
Darcy hoped his discomfort at this invitation could not be heard in his voice. “Forgive me, Georgiana, but do you not feel a bit young to serve as our friend’s hostess?”
“Ah, but that is beauty of your sister joining us.”
Us? Well, of course “us”; my sister could not go without me, but do I want us to be in Hertfordshire? Darcy wondered.
Bingley continued, “At Netherfield, your sister will be the lady of the manor, yet free of the haughty judgments of the ton. Th
ink of it, Miss Darcy, you can practice being a hostess to friendly folk who will overlook, or likely not notice, any missteps.”
Fitzwilliam breezed into the breakfast room just in time to hear Bingley’s appeal. “Good morning, all. Bingley, good to see you. Now, where do you wish to take my young cousin?”
“Why, to Netherfield!” Georgiana said excitedly.
“I have not agreed yet,” Darcy said slowly.
“I am certain you did,” Bingley corrected. “Your exact words were, ‘Tell me what I can do to make amends, and I will do it.’” Although he smiled, there was a hardness in his gaze.
“So I did,” Darcy said, nodding, “and so I shall.”
“Netherfield is in Hertfordshire, is it not?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“Brother and I will join Mr. Bingley when he goes to win the heart of Miss Jane Bennet!”
Locking eyes with Darcy, Bingley said, “I shall start with an apology and then take whatever steps are necessary to repair what we once had. An apology is an essential beginning, but one must demonstrate commitment if a relationship is to be restored.”
“I am happy to accompany you, Bingley. As for Georgiana, well, Fitzwilliam is her other guardian, and he may have an opinion about your proposal.”
At a glance, Fitzwilliam saw Georgiana’s eagerness, Darcy’s hesitation, and Bingley’s insistence. He took his time in filling his plate with his favorite breakfast foods. When he finally took a seat, he said in a serious tone, “I do indeed have an opinion. I cannot allow Georgiana to go … without me.”
Bingley and Georgiana laughed, and Bingley said, “You are, of course, most welcome, sir. Netherfield offers good shooting and good riding, and there’s plenty of room. Also, the nearby town of Meryton is as friendly a place as any you will find in the kingdom.” Just then, a footman brought a pot of chocolate, and Georgiana and Bingley toasted their upcoming trip with cups of cocoa.
Following Bingley’s departure, Darcy told Georgiana and Fitzwilliam he wished to have a word with them. “I am concerned for you, dear girl, as Wickham is there with the militia.”
After reflecting on this news, Georgiana met her brother’s worried gaze. “I do not expect we will be in company with him.”
“Of course not!” Darcy said, as Fitzwilliam exclaimed, “No!”
“It has been nearly a year since my mistake in judgment. I hope I have matured.”
“You have. Truly,” Darcy said, recalling their conversation of the night before.
“My shyness, my fear … I confess I have been dreading the day when I find myself face to face with Geo—with Mr. Wickham.”
“That is perfectly understandable,” Fitzwilliam assured her.
“There is so much in life over which one has no control. Here is my opportunity to encounter Wickham on my own terms, while my stalwart brother and fierce cousin stand beside me. Once this is done, I will have one fewer fear.” She rose from the dining table, kissed her brother’s cheek, and patted her cousin’s shoulder.
Pausing at the breakfast room door, she said, “I would very much like to be Mr. Bingley’s hostess.”
Darcy sipped his coffee to ease his suddenly dry throat before replying, “Then to Netherfield Park we will go.”
Georgiana clapped a hand over her mouth to quiet her spontaneous shriek of delight. “I shall tell Mrs. Annesley about our plans! Thank you, Brother!”
As the sound of her running footsteps faded, Darcy gave Fitzwilliam a worried look. The colonel shrugged and said, “Worry not. I do believe this junket to Netherfield is a good thing.”
Upon leaving Darcy House, Fitzwilliam stepped into the May sunshine and considered his current commitments; there was an accusation in Elizabeth’s letter which had festered in his mind. Collins spent time in Meryton. Perhaps, I can investigate the poison horse tonic and check on Wickham in the same trip. It would be an easy ride tomorrow morning, and I could return before nightfall.
≈≈≈
May 14, 1811
At Rosings on Tuesday, Anne received Elizabeth’s latest letter shortly before she, Lady Catherine, and Mrs. Jenkinson departed for Kesteven Place in Bath. After hearing Anne ask for her letters to be forwarded, Lady Catherine met privately with the housekeeper to countermand the request. She explained, “We will not be in Bath for an extended period. Upon returning to Rosings, Miss Anne can read whatever letters have been sent here.”
≈≈≈
In Meryton on Tuesday afternoon, Colonel Forster sat in his office and listened to Colonel Christopher Fitzwilliam’s account of the misdeeds and disgraces of Lieutenant George Wickham. When Fitzwilliam added, “In short, sir, Wickham is a bad bargain. If you require proof, I can—”
“Not necessary, sir. In fact, you are the third person recently to give me details of the lieutenant’s character.”
“The third?”
“Not long ago, I received a letter from a Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. I believe you are related.”
“We are cousins.”
“Then just last week, after a tea party with several of the Bennet girls, my dear wife came to me with warnings that I ought to ask the Meryton merchants whether Wickham is in dun territory. Apparently, this intelligence came from a Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Anyway, I asked around and found he does have debts. All of the local merchants have now cut Wickham off, I believe.”
“I hope they have not suffered serious losses. I would not want to see the militia’s reputation sullied by that scoundrel.”
“Nor would I. So, I have encouraged the officers who can afford it to spend a bit more money about town to help build goodwill. Do you know the Bennets, sir? I suggest you keep your distance from the youngest girl, Lydia. She is not only a spoiled child, she is a great defender of Wickham.”
“There is one other matter regarding an inquiry I am conducting informally for the army.” From his leather shoulder bag, he produced a slim glass bottle and set it on Forster’s desk. “Are you familiar with this tonic? It was used in an army stable in London and made some horses quite ill. In fact, one fine animal died.”
Picking up the bottle cautiously, Forster read the label aloud and then added, “We do not use this, nor have I seen it, but I will advise our stablemen to avoid it.”
≈≈≈
Fitzwilliam rode Laird, his Arabian stallion, at a leisurely pace along Meryton’s main street, taking the measure of the town with its small shops and pleasant air. Suddenly, a boisterous feminine laugh caught his attention, and he looked around for the source. A short distance away, two young ladies were conversing with two militiamen; the red uniforms of the soldiers appearing bright against the whitewashed exterior of the feed store behind them. Two other young ladies stood slightly apart from the group of four and, as Fitzwilliam approached, he recognized Elizabeth Bennet. Intrigued, he guided his horse toward them. What are you like, Miss Elizabeth, when you are in your own neighborhood?
One of the militiamen, Major Sarton, saw him first. Standing tall, Sarton saluted. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, good to see you, sir!”
Elizabeth turned quickly. “Colonel, this is a surprise!”
Fitzwilliam pretended confusion. “Were you not expecting me, Miss Elizabeth? You encouraged me to come to Hertfordshire, calling it a place dear to your heart.”
“Miss Elizabeth, the colonel was ever a jokester in Spain when we served together,” Sarton said.
Lydia studied Fitzwilliam openly. “Lizzy, is this the officer you mentioned in your letters from Rosings?”
“You mentioned me in your letters, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Indeed, I did, sir. I warned my sisters to be wary of charming men in army uniforms,” she said, giving him an arch smile.
Laughing, Fitzwilliam dismounted and bowed. “It is delightful to see you again, madam.”
“Sisters, allow me to introduce Colonel Fitzwilliam. Colonel, may I present Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia,” Elizabeth said, gesturing to each in turn. The ladies curtsied and Fitzwilliam bowe
d. So, the one who is now taking my measure is the Bennet daughter Forster warned me about.
Sarton said, “Colonel, this is Lieutenant Oglesby, a fellow soldier in the _____shire militia.” After the gentlemen exchanged greetings, Sarton asked, “Are you here on army business, sir?”
“I am.”
“If your business is done, you must join us,” Lydia insisted. “Major Sarton and Lieutenant Oglesby are coming to dinner at Longbourn.”
“I would be an unexpected addition to your party; I do not wish to be an inconvenience.”
“Oh, la, t’would be no inconvenience, sir. Tell him, Lizzy; he’s your friend.”
Elizabeth assured him, “We would be happy to have you join us for dinner, Colonel.”
A smiling Jane confirmed, “You would be most welcome. We were about to return home; it is a pleasant walk from town.”
Here’s a piece of luck—a chance to observe the family Darcy so disdained that he nearly decided not to offer for Miss Elizabeth. Fitzwilliam said, “May I suggest this—I shall walk with you to Longbourn, is it? If your parents confirm there is room for one more at their table, I am happy to join you. If not, I will still have had the pleasure of your company on this beautiful spring day.”
Oglesby glanced past Fitzwilliam. “Your pardon, sir, but I see gray clouds on the horizon.”
“Well, let us be off.” Leading his horse, Fitzwilliam walked beside Elizabeth, and Jane walked on her sister’s other side. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Lydia walked with Sarton and Kitty walked with Oglesby.
“Is this the first time you have been to Hertfordshire?” Elizabeth asked. “I have not seen you in Meryton before today.”
“It is, and the place is quite charming. As I recall, Mrs. Collins is from the area.”
“Her father’s estate borders Longbourn,” Jane said.
“And Mrs. Collins was friends with your family before she married your cousin?”
“Mr. Collins is our second cousin,” Elizabeth said.
“Speaking of family, sir, Lizzy mentioned that you are cousin to Mr. Darcy,” Jane said.