Posted on: 2010-11-24

Part 2 Hertfordshire, September 1811

Chapter 26 – What the World Needs Now is Love, Sweet Love

"I am violently in love with your sister and will most surely die if I am not allowed to marry her. Oh, what am I to do? You must tell me if I am out of place to think I could be so favoured. She is, after all, a gentleman's daughter, and I am but a steward's son. "

Lizzy tried not to laugh as she watched this man nearly three times her size desperately wringing his hands at the thought of speaking to her father. He was so quietly confident in most matters, but obviously not in the realm of the heart. When they had met, more than four years earlier, he had been very tall and lanky. Now he was massive… a veritable door off the hinges. Once transformed, she had begun calling him Little John because he reminded her of Robin Hood's boon companion--both physically and in his loyalty to her family. She took his hands to calm him. "You have nothing to fear from Papa."

The big man shook his head with doubt. "He has every right to send me packing when I petition him."

She had been expecting this development between John and her sister Kitty for some time. They were well suited, and seemed to have a deep attachment and affection. "I am certain he will agree. You must know my parents already think of you as a son, and it surprises me you have not heard Mama speculating about when you would ask." Elizabeth Bennet gave Little John a mischievous look and a poke as she prepared to mimic her mother. "Who do you think she is encouraging when she says?--'it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a thriving business, must be in want of a wife'. Besides, my family hangs on to our claims of being landed gentry by a thread… and an entailed thread at that. I do not think being a steward's son is that different from being a country lawyer's son… and look at my Uncle Gardiner. He is the wealthiest and most admired member of our family."

"I am pleased you approve. Your good opinion is as important as that of my father and my aunt."

Her friend would never know how honoured she was that the woman who had held her, comforted her and helped her through childbirth would become a part of her family. "Little John, I do have one request. Kitty just turned sixteen. Would you be willing to wait a year?"

"Of course… We have talked, and this is our wish as well. I want time to finish the house and find additional buyers for our bricks." Little John rubbed his hands again--this time with glee. "There is much construction happening in London, we are close and have what they need. I talked to your uncle, and he suggested I spend time at his home. He thinks visiting building sites could prove rewarding, and he also advised me to explore developing customers among the ton. Refacing their town houses with brick is becoming quite fashionable with that set."

Townhouses in London and their inhabitants were not what Lizzy wanted to contemplate. She looked around the brickyard and thought about all they had accomplished. John had immediately seized upon putting Thomas Trent's plan in motion for Longbourn once he heard what the young heir of Netherfield had envisioned. At fourteen, Tom had confided in Jane that in order for his family to continue to afford to live at Netherfield, they needed to increase their revenues--even if it meant going into trade. Adjacent to both estates was an abandoned brick works. The kiln had needed some repairs, but was definitely salvageable; and their area of Hertfordshire had an abundance of clay and sand. Tom had intended to buy the business once he was of age.

Elizabeth had encouraged John Reynolds to take on the project rather than having the production of bricks become part of Longbourn's assets. Together they devised a plan for the purchase. John denied himself the pleasures most young men found necessary and frugally saved almost all of his pay for several years. To that sum he added money contributed by his father and aunt. Elizabeth had discreetly matched that amount through her Uncle Gardiner, and in early 1809 they bought the works and became partners. Lizzy's Uncle Phillips had been instrumental in enticing the owner, an elderly widow, to part with the brickyard and the surrounding land for what he thought was a very reasonable price. The property also included an unfinished house of fair size, and John spent almost every free moment away from his duties at Longbourn making the beautiful brick dwelling liveable. In just two short years, they had begun showing a profit. Three workers had been hired, and the house on the property was near completion.

Soon after the youthful John Reynolds had arrived in Hertfordshire, Mr. Bennet's lack of confidence had begun to lessen. He quickly embraced the young man's vision for utilising every square inch of the estate with the goal of increasing income. Little John had further amazed Elizabeth with his ingenuity, when he even made a plan for how the brick works could increase Longbourn's annual income.

Because Sir Gareth Hughes raised horses, John and his father were experts in that field. Bryn Mawr had bred a variety of horses… some were developed for speed to supply the increasing need for delivering dispatches quickly... others were bred for strength to pull the carts and drays the boom in trade required. Then there was the seemingly endless war with Napoleon--the cavalry was always in need of horses that combined the traits of speed and endurance. Early on, Mr. Bennet had been persuaded to utilise John's expertise, and Longbourn too began to raise horses. This created the need for oats to feed the horses. The straw left over was now being sold to the brick works.

Elizabeth smiled at the thought of Kitty and John making a life together. Her sister had become close to this man because of her interest in the brick works. She asked Longbourn's young steward if she could be allowed to use his kiln to fire some tiles she wanted to make. She had the idea to make a decorative surround for a fireplace. Her design was inspired by the pictures in Perrault's book of fairy tales and Elizabeth's description of a room she had seen in Derbyshire--with those illustrations painted on the walls. John had been impressed with the tiles and believed they could be sold to customers looking for a unique decoration in a nursery. He built a smaller kiln and a workshop just for her, and soon she was spending most of her days at the brick yard.

John had watched Catherine Bennet grow into an alluring young woman. Kitty, though older than Lydia, had spent many years in her younger sister's shadow. She had yet to completely outgrow the insecurity of her youth, but the more time she spent in John's company--the more she projected the poise of an accomplished young lady.

Lizzy chuckled with the knowledge that John's admiring glances had almost silenced her sister's nervous cough. Though her artistic creativity had first brought her to John's notice, she was certain it was Catherine's light and pleasing figure and her unique dimple that only graced one side of her face that set her apart in his admiration. That intriguing lack of symmetry was often displayed when she giggled girlishly in his presence. Elizabeth also saw something in their eyes she had not seen since Jane and Tom. As she thought about their future happiness, an unwelcome surge of longing swept over her.

"Mary, my love, where is your sister this morning?" said Mr. Bennet to his middle daughter as she entered the breakfast room. Elizabeth was the daughter who usually spent time with him at breakfast. She would go for her solitary walk at dawn and join him before the others were awake.

"John wanted to discuss something with her this morning. I think I know what it is, and you should be expecting a request for a private conference with him this morning."

"Why would he need to talk to Lizzy first?"

"I would suppose he thinks you would reject him as a suitor for Kitty's hand... because of his inferior connections. He needs Lizzy to give him the courage to approach you."

"Oh my, do I seem that fierce?"

Mary chuckled at her father. "No, Papa, there was a time when you would throw witty barbs at those you thought ridiculous, but you have changed, and are much more judicious with your sarcasm. Even then you would never have attacked someone because of their place in society. I am certain there are some in the neighbourhood who will gossip and think she is marrying beneath her."

"Well they do not know John Reynolds as we do. Given enough time, I think the young man could end up the richest man in Hertfordshire. He is a great deal like your Uncle Gardiner. He has such vision, and I am very pleased that one of my daughters will share it."

Mr. Bennet had a thoughtful look on his face for several minutes while he ate his breakfast. He seemed to have made some decision and turned to Mary and said, "I have some correspondence I need to have read before Mr. Reynolds arrives."

Mary noticed the letter was from someone she did not know. She began to read the letter to her father.

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent

My mind, however is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination last year, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England.

"Papa, did you know our cousin was a clergyman?"

"I did not, and I am surprised, because his father was not particularly pious. He was, however, very unyielding. I wonder if a propensity for sternness like his father was his son's reason for choosing his profession."

Mary looked at her father with exasperation. "Oh, Papa, Christianity is as much about love as it is about disapproval!"

"You are right, my most devout daughter. I am letting my prejudices once again get in the way of making a proper judgment of this young man's character.

Mary resumed reading the letter.

As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence. I flatter myself that my present overtures of goodwill are highly correct, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive branch.

Williams Collins

Mary, what do you think of this young man's letter?

Mr. Bennet noticed that the look on Mary's face was the one she had when she was doing sums. After a moment, she said, "His language is quite pretentious and he is overly complimentary to his patroness… I would even use the word obsequious. I find he expresses himself with both servility and self-importance. However, that is form. I find the content of his letter to be full of Christian charity. He feels it important to honour his father, even though he thinks he might have been wrong. The idea of the olive branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed. I believe he truly would like to make amends, and he seems to have compassion with regard the welfare of your daughters and your wife. All in all, he seems to be an admirable young man with a style deficiency."

Mr. Bennet laughed at his daughter and asked, "What do you think he wants to talk more of about injuring my amiable daughters?"

"I think he means to marry one of us in order to make the entail less onerous."

"Would you, who has done extensive reading of sermons, like to be a clergyman's wife and help your husband write his?"

"Yes, Papa, I believe I might."

"Then you should make an effort to seek the company of this young man when he arrives. You would make an excellent partner--and would be very adept at helping him moderate his pretentious prose."

"Oh, Papa, I know I could offer a great deal of assistance with his sermons, but that is not what young men seek in a wife. He would not be interested in me. Jane is much more beautiful."

"It is true Jane is exceptionally handsome, but she guards her heart ferociously. Young men want to know they are admired and sought after." He stroked his chin and smiled at his daughter mischievously. "I know, I was once a young man, and your mother was an expert at encouraging me in my affections."

"Yes, but Mama was very beautiful. I am quite plain compared to her or Jane."

"Mary, you are far from plain. The whole county talks of the beauty of all my daughters. You are intelligent, and you have developed a keen sense of humour." He smiled as he said this, and Mary shook her head and laughed--certain her father was patting himself on the back for that triumph. "If he is at all pleasing to you, talk to him. Lydia is very young, and only enamoured of men in scarlet coats. Kitty is spoken for, and Lizzy has no intention of marrying. None of them will be your rival, and I doubt Jane will make any effort to encourage this young man. You have an open field. Go to it, dearest one."

"Oh, Papa, I love you. I do not know what tragedy befell Elizabeth, and I wake each morning praying for the return of the joyful Lizzy--but I am so pleased you and I had that year together. You made me a better person."

Her father hugged her and said, "My year with you, Lizzy's mysterious metamorphosis and John's vision have all contributed to making me better able to see both the value and the needs of my family. For the first time in many years, I have complete confidence my family will be cared for when I am gone."

Mr. Bennet waited to tell Mrs. Bennet of Mr. Collins' visit. The morning of the day he was to arrive, he casually mentioned his stay--in the hopes of forestalling too much excitement of a prospective bridegroom coming to call . "At four o'clock, we may expect a peace-making gentleman. He sent a letter a fortnight ago. He is our cousin, Mr. Collins. Mary thinks from his letter, he is a most conscientious and polite young man. He stated he was disposed to make amends to our girls, and I shall not be the person to discourage him."

At first Mrs. Bennet missed the reference to his plans to make amends. Instead, she became quite angry that the odious man, who would kick them out of their home when Mr. Bennet died, had the audacity to visit. Her husband still found it enjoyable to tease his wife and did not rush to persuade her about what he was certain would come of the reverend's time spent with his family.

Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet said little; but the ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent.

He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his manners very formal. He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters. "I have heard much of their beauty, but fame has fallen short of the truth. I do not doubt your seeing them all in due time well disposed in marriage."

Mary and Mr. Bennet shared a secret smile at the mention of marriage.

Mrs. Bennet, who was always pleased with compliments, said, "You are very kind, sir; and for many years it has been my main concern--or else my girls might have ended up destitute. However, providence has already smiled on two of my daughters. One is recently attached to Mr. Reynolds, our steward and the owner of a brick works in the neighbourhood. Another of my daughters is an heiress, and does not plan nor need to marry. However, she has assured me I will be provided for once we are ejected from this house."

"You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate."

"Ah! Sir, I do indeed. I must confess, it is a grievous affair I have fretted over for many years. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for such things I know are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed."

"I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more, but perhaps when we are better acquainted."

Mary Bennet took her father's advice. She spent hours discussing the finer points of theology with Mr. Collins and found him knowledgeable. She enjoyed what sometimes actually became lively debates.

He had recently been influenced by Lady Catherine's desire to ensure his parishioners were admonished regularly as a deterrent against sinful behaviour. Mary was much more of the mind to promote charity among the flock, having been visiting the tenants at Longbourn since she was twelve. She and her sister Elizabeth saw carrying out this task as living the lesson of Matthew, Chapter 25. Mary told him she had recently embraced the text as a creed to live by… "Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Mr. Collins was stirred by her passion.

Mary gently used humour to moderate his predilection for pretentious prose, and she determined that much of his obsequious attitude toward his patroness was due to a lack of experience. He might sound self-important, but Mary determined him to be deficient in confidence. She flattered him and pointed out his good qualities. Nothing was said that was untrue; she just highlighted those things about him of which she approved.

William Collins was not particularly handsome, but he was not repellent in his looks. Mary wished him less heavy, but she quite appreciated his height. Walking was an excellent way to trim a figure--she would encourage that activity. He had a pleasing smile and his teeth were white and even. The more she looked, the more she was certain she saw kindness in his eyes. The trick would be to get him to be less grave. Soon she did not have to try very hard to encourage smiles--they just seemed to happen the more she was around him. Very soon he was smiling quite often and looking hopefully at her.

She did not approve of his hair. He, like many, felt the need to use too much oil. Mary wondered what he would look like without his wayward locks kept so strictly in place. Lizzy would surely have some idea for how to correct that shortcoming.

That night she went to Elizabeth's room and disclosed her growing feelings for Mr. Collins and asked her sister's opinion.

"Mary, my first impression was not favourable. I was taken aback by the pompousness of his speech and his fawning attitude toward his patroness. However, he is much improved after spending a week in your company. How do you evaluate him?"

"I have added up all his good qualities and compared them to his poor qualities, and I am quite persuaded he has much more good about him than bad. I am not a romantic. I do not expect to be swept off my feet by a knight in shining armour, but I do feel I could be very content being Mrs. Collins and helping him with his sermons and visiting those in need in the parish. I also like the idea of having children and my own home. To tell the truth Lizzy, I enjoy being in his company."

Mary took hold of her sister's hands and caught her gaze. "I hope Papa lives for many more years, but when the day comes that he is gone, I will be glad to come home to Longbourn and provide a home for Mama and you."

The sisters embraced and Mary confided in Lizzy about her dislike of his hair.

Elizabeth looked thoughtful and then gave her sister a wicked grin. "I have just the thing. Have Jane make something with which to wash his hair and describe it to him as one of her very special mixtures. Tell him there are properties in her unique blend that will preclude the need to put any oil on his hair. The one she makes with lemon and rosemary is lovely. When he comes down after washing his locks, I will have everyone ready to compliment him on how fine he looks and how nice he smells."

The two sisters giggled at their plot.

On Saturday morning, October 5th, Mr. Collins asked Mrs. Bennet for a private conference with Mary. He proposed and she accepted. He immediately met with her father, and he too approved the match. They set the date for Saturday, December 28th.

Chapter 27 – Where is it Now, the Glory and the Dream?

Bethany Darcy rose from her bed as the first rays of the sun came through her windows. She had been awake for hours, waiting for enough light to dress. The day before had seen the little girl go through her clothes looking for items she could manage by herself. Her choice had been a new dress she had never worn that she could pull over her head. She thought it was meant to have something worn under it but she did not know what. Instead of trying to fasten stockings, she opted for a pair of slippers without them. Her hair had a tangle on one side that she could not get her brush to go through.

Her mission was a secret. She needed to talk privately with her father, and her hope was to catch him before he went for his morning ride. He always had coffee first in the breakfast room. Her plan was to be waiting when he came down and persuade him to go with her to his study.

She was kneeling in a chair at the table when a servant came in to ready the room. He looked as though he was planning to question her, but she made her face fierce and unapproachable and was left undisturbed.

Her father looked puzzled at her presence when he arrived. "Baby Duck, why are you here? Did Sally wake you early… and what exactly do you have on?"

For her father she chose to look confident and serious when she spoke. "I dressed myself. I need to talk to you, and I do not want anybody else to know. Well, Lewis knows. I am talking for both of us. Could we go to your study?"

Darcy tried hard not to laugh at his daughter. He knew she was trying to be serious and would be furious if he treated her as though her request was comic. For a supremely happy little girl, she could be quite earnest.

He looked at her, and she did indeed look ridiculous. He had no idea what she had on--and her hair was a mess He agreed to her request and lifted her out of the chair. They walked hand-in-hand to his study. When the door was closed, he pushed a chair up in front of his desk. She climbed into the chair, and stood--presumably to minimize his height advantage.

She got to the point immediately. "Papa, ever since you and Aunt Georgie came back from Ramsgate, you are angry and Aunt Georgie is sad. Lewis thought he did something wrong. I found him crying in the nursery... I cuddled him until he stopped crying, and then told him he was being a baby. I hope he believed me… not about being a baby... but that he was not to blame."

Darcy looked stricken at his daughter's revelation. "I will talk to him and make certain he understands."

"That is fine; Papa, but that is eh... hmmm… not what I need. You must stop being angry, and I want Aunt Georgie to stop being sad."

"Bethany this is not something you need worry about. Georgiana and I will be fine soon." Fitzwilliam Darcy hoped he was telling his daughter the truth. He was very concerned about his sister's melancholy, and when he thought about the cause of her sadness, his deep-seated anger with Wickham became almost uncontrollable--and that only made her more withdrawn..

Bethany looked exasperated with her father. She said abruptly, "You are too slow. I have a plan. May I tell you?"

Darcy could only stare at his daughter and nod.

"I heard Mrs. Reynolds and you talking about going to Neverland with Mr. Bingley."

"Bethany, it is wrong to eavesdrop; and the name of Mr. Bingley's estate is Netherfield."

"Papa, I am trying to help. Please listen. I think you should go to… Netherfield... Mr. Bingley is a very nice man. He is always happy, and you need to be with happy people... You and Mrs. Reynolds talked about enjoying some sport. That means you shoot birds, right?"

Darcy nodded his head.

"I think that is what you need."

Darcy was speechless in the presence of his remarkable daughter. He was reminded of a similar negotiation that had taken place at Darcy House more than five years ago.

"Shoot some poor birds. That should make you less angry." Bethany broke from her serious face and said the last with a lopsided grin and a twinkle in her eye. Darcy wondered whether she realized the humour of her words and was trying to make him laugh. He was afraid to indulge--- just in case he misjudged her.

Bethany captured her father's eyes. "Lewis and I will spend time with Aunt Georgie and try to make her happy. I will ask her to teach me to play the pianoforte. If she is busy teaching me, maybe she will forget she is sad."

All of a sudden, Bethany got a big smile on her face as she continued, "I can also get her to help me plan my birthday party... she will love that. Do you think Cousin Richard will come to my party? Aunt Georgie likes him. He is very funny." Bethany smiled at the memory of Richard; but then her face became a grimace. "Ugh… I do not want Cousin Edmund to come. He is handsome, but Aunt Georgie needs someone who is kind..." She gave her father a furtive glance as she said, "hmmm… I do not believe he is nice--even when he smiles at me."

Bethany noticed that her father's face seemed to display disapproval. "I am sorry. Is it bad to say that? He always seems to stare at me--like I have been naughty--and he thinks that funny. I like Lady Eleanor, but she seems sad... and when she is around Cousin Richard gets sad." Bethany's smile returned. "Ooh, Aunt Cassie, we should invite her. She always smells so nice... and she makes Richard happy. I am not sure about the Earl. Sometimes he seems to make Aunt Cassie sad."

Fitzwilliam smiled inwardly at how excited she seemed about her birthday, and her uncanny ability to size up their family. She and Lewis had changed his life. Up until the incident at Ramsgate, he, Georgiana and his children had enjoyed a pleasant life. She was correct… he needed to get over this anger; and he needed to find a way to help Georgiana recover from her despair.

Bethany stared at her father, trying to figure out what he was thinking. The next minute, she thought of her brother and his best friend and she giggled. "Lewis will want Sian to come. You know he is in love with her, and they plan to marry as soon as they are old enough. If Sian comes, then Sir Gareth will come."

Darcy chuckled. "I did not know Lewis and Sian were engaged. Did her father agree?"

"No, Papa you are soooo silly… He can't talk good enough to ask, but I am sure they were meant to marry. They were born on the same day, and their mothers both died when they were born. That must be a sign from God."

Bethany did not wait for her father to reply. She had a thought that made her quite excited. Her words started rushing out. "Oh and please, please, Papa... may Dr. Wilder come? He said he would get me an Irish whistle and teach me to play! And maybe he would bring some of those Mad… Oh hmmm… What are they called? You know, Papa... Those little cakes that look like shells that he always brings… They are my favourite food in the whole wide world. Can we have ice cream? I think that is my second favourite food. Oh, and chocolate--I loooove chocolate." Bethany made a face and said, "I guess we have to ask Grandmama… But she will make all of us sad."

Fitzwilliam wanted to laugh, but managed to keep his face composed. She was right though, Lady Catherine would be disastrous for Georgiana right now, and he also did not want to see either Edmund or the Earl. "Bethany Darcy, do not say things like that. It is not at all respectful."

"You are right, Papa. It is wrong for me to speak mean about Grandmother." Bethany tried to look sorry. She waited a few seconds, and then put on a rather grave face and said, "Papa, I have another thing to ask you." This time Bethany seemed hesitant to proceed. "Umm… Lewis and I have talked. We want you to find a wife... Maybe you could look for one at Mr. Bingley's."

Bethany set her jaw as she continued. "We do not want Miss Bingley ... She seems to want to be your wife, but we do not think she would do"

"You are looking for something in a mother? What accomplishments do you require?"

"Lewis and I have talked about this. It is one of our favourite games. We call it the perfect mother game." Bethany screwed up her face as she made sure she did not leave out any of their wishes. "We want a mother who can tell stories… with good scary voices... like you. We need a third witch for Macbeth... When I interviewed Miss Bingley, she did not even seem to know about the witches in Macbeth... and seemed mad that I wanted her to be a witch."

Darcy's jaw dropped. "You 'interviewed' Miss Bingley? How do you even know that word or what it means?"

"Hmmm… I heard you say that word when you were getting a new friend for Aunt Georgie. I just asked Miss Bingley things. She did not know why."

This time Darcy could not keep from laughing. "So tell me, Baby Duck, what other accomplishments are you and Lewis looking for in a mother?"

"Well, she has to be a good walker. Every time I asked Miss Bingley to walk with Lewis and me, she said, "Not in these shoes." Bethany wrinkled her nose in imitation of Miss Bingley.

"Bethany, I think you did not understand Miss Bingley's response. She is a fine walker, but probably did not want to walk with you and Lewis. She does not seem to be overly fond of children."

Bethany looked seriously at her father, and then her face broke into a grin. "Then I guess she would not be a good mother."

Her father chuckled at his daughter and said, "You are right, Baby Duck, I do not think Miss Bingley would make a good mother, or a good wife. Tell me though, what other things would you like in a mother?"

Bethany smiled at her father and said, "Lewis and I both want a mother that smells good... And Lewis wants a mother that sings and plays the pianoforte. We want her to make you smile and laugh. You have a beautiful smile… And when you laugh, you are the handsomest man in the whole wide world."

Bethany squared her shoulders and looked her father in the eyes. "I have one more thing to ask you. Do you think, Papa, when I turn five, you could stop calling me 'Baby Duck?' When I am five, I will be almost grown up, and should not be called by any name that has baby in it... Papa, why did you and Mama ever start calling me that silly name? Did I look like a duck when I was born?"

Fitzwilliam Darcy smiled at his daughter. "No, but your first hair was light, and looked just like the down on baby ducks." He knew neither he nor Anne had been the first to call her by that name. That honour went to the young woman who gave birth to Bethany. The image of her singing that beautiful Irish rebel song, kissing Bethany's fingers and saying she would always love her Baby Duck flashed through his mind.

Darcy seemed to be lost in the past. To Bethany, he often seemed to go somewhere else. She said, "Papa, pay attention! Will you look for a wife?"

"Bethany, I am always looking, but I rarely see anything that pleases me. What do you and Lewis want your perfect mother to look like?"

"We talked about it, and felt that you should choose; but we both hoped she might look like..." Bethany pointed to the portrait of a young woman reading by the French artist Fragonard. Darcy had bought it two years ago because it reminded him of Bethany's mother. Fragonard had gone out of favour after the revolution, and the price had been reasonable. He planned to give the painting to Bethany when she was older… Of course, he would not reveal the reason. In the meantime, he kept the painting in his study.

"What do you and Lewis like about the way she looks?"

"She looks soft to us. Lewis in particular likes how soft she looks. He says he would like to cuddle with her. Lewis loves to cuddle. Papa, did you cuddle with your mother when you were a little boy?"

"Yes, I think I did... when she read me a story." Darcy knew that it was the young woman's bosom that looked soft, and he thought how much he agreed with his son about this requirement. "Lewis is right… that is a very important requirement. My wife should be soft and nice to cuddle."

"Papa did you used to cuddle with my mama?"

Without thinking, Darcy who was shocked and momentarily struck with guilt by her question, answered truthfully. "Oh no, I assure you, I never did." He realized what he had said when he saw Bethany's crestfallen look. "I am sorry, Baby Duck. I misspoke… of course I cuddled with your mama. I loved her very much." He had always hated disguise of any sort; but the circumstances of Bethany's birth required him to always be on guard, lest the truth come out.

Bethany seemed to be satisfied with his recovery. She grinned at him and said, "Papa, go to Nev… No, that's not it… Netherfield… That's it. Stop being mad… Shoot some birds. Papa, go find someone who makes you laugh and smile."

Most nights Elizabeth struggled to sleep. The refreshing numbness of slumber was ever elusive. Per her father's remedy to Lizzy, the child, she did everything to exhaust herself; but in the end, it was only her body and not her mind that succumbed. She walked the fields with Little John, visited tenants with Mary, gathered flowers and herbs for Jane, and walked to Meryton for supplies for anyone who needed something.

Regardless of how busy her days were, at night her mind raced with unwelcome thoughts. She feared the nightmares that sometimes followed her submission to sleep. Over the years, they had lessened, but still happened often enough to be a cause for anxiety each night as her head found the pillow. Elizabeth wished she could divulge her secrets and unburden her troubled soul… She was tired of being fearful of exposure, and she was tired of being tired.

Elizabeth was in the habit of getting up before dawn and walking to Oakham Mount with Caliban as soon as there was enough light to navigate. When she had first returned to Longbourn five years ago, she began the practice. Her family had questioned the propriety of a woman walking alone before dawn. She had faced her father's attempt to prohibit her morning rambles calmly--telling him she was compelled by some unknown force and would not be able to obey his demands. He silently questioned her sanity, but did not feel he wanted to lock her in her room at night. The addition of Caliban had made him less anxious, but he wished she would confide in him what had happened. He asked his Brother Gardiner several times if he could explain Lizzy's change, and on each occasion he claimed nothing untoward had happened that he knew about--although his eyes always seemed to betray some guilty knowledge. In the end--as was Mr. Bennet's habit--he decided it was easier to indulge the idiosyncrasies she had developed during her lost year.

Mrs. Hill had instructed the cook to always have a crockery jug of tea ready for Lizzy to take along. It was wrapped tightly in a towel to preserve its warmth, and packed in a basket with a mug and a blanket. When she got to Oakham Mount, her routine was always the same; she would watch the sun rise over the meadow, sip her tea and consult with her dog about her plans for the day. Sometimes she would play the tin whistle Jamie had given her, but lately as Mary and Kitty prepared for their futures as wives and mothers--her thoughts increasingly drifted toward regret and even anger at her interrupted life. She was long past tears and knew it was wrong to question God's wisdom, but she could not shake the unwanted thoughts that increasingly intruded. She knew there were many harsh things that happened--women died in childbirth, babies were still born, infants often lived only a short time, and people even died unexpectedly from trifling colds--still she wondered at the cruelty of her particular punishment. Why, at barely fifteen, had she been violated by a man ten times her importance and forced by the rigidity of society's rules to give up the only baby she would ever have? A child she would have loved to cuddle, sing to, tell stories to, rear to have good principles and be an admirable participant in life's struggles and joys.

As the sun rose higher in the autumn sky, she chastised herself for maudlin meanderings and decided it was time to look to the future she had been dealt. How could she and John find new buyers for their bricks? Should they expand Jane's fragrances to include soaps? Her mind quickly turned--much as her mother's often did--to her sisters' marital prospects. Kitty's dowry would be Elizabeth's share in the brick works, the land around and the house--she and John had purchased together. Mary would inherit Longbourn as the wife of Mr. Collins. As long as Mr. Bennet was able to increase the estate's annual income, that would satisfy any need for a monetary settlement at the time of her marriage. That meant larger dowries for Jane and Lydia.

Lydia was still very young, and would not be marrying for several years. She would only officially come out at the next assembly; and Elizabeth was certain she would have time to add to her dowry. Uncle Gardiner's business continued to grow, and her investment increased with his success. Together they had also put funds into Cartwright's power looms, and the rapid mechanization of the textile trade had the potential for making Lizzy a wealthy woman.

The youngest Bennet daughter's fondness for officers caused her some concern; but Charlotte was around the militia camp to look out for both their sisters. Since Kitty had become attached to John Reynolds, Maria Lucas had become Lydia's constant companion.

Her greatest concern was Jane's reluctance to express her feelings. Jane feared, above all else, opening her heart again and being abandoned a third time. Lizzy spent much of their time together encouraging her sister; but she did not seem to have become less reticent in the past five years. Elizabeth could not imagine how any man could resist her sister's ethereal beauty and serene goodness… if she only had an adequate dowry. Every year since she had returned to Hertfordshire, she had increased the amount. Currently with Mary and Kitty's situation, she believed she could afford ten thousand pounds.

The sun was well over the horizon, and she should be returning to have breakfast with her father. As she gathered her things, she saw two men riding hard across the meadow below. They were both young men, and one was taller than the other. There was something familiar about the larger of the two, but he was no one she recognized from the neighbourhood. His body was almost prone on his mount in the interest of speed. A black coat covered his broad shoulders, the tails flapping in the wind, and on his head he wore a tall beaver hat. Elizabeth was standing as they came close to her position. She knew not why; but she waved as they drew even. They pulled up their horses, looked at her, and waved back.

Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy saw a woman on the rise above. She was too far away to make out her features--though Darcy was certain she was young. As she stood there, she reminded him of the painting his acquaintance, Edward Barrett had of his deceased sister. Thomas Lawrence had painted her when she was but twelve years old, and a year later, she had died from consumption. Pinkie, as her family had called her, was depicted on a moor with the wind blowing her gown and untied bonnet ribbons. The young woman on the mount above also had her bonnet ribbons untied, and her hair was loose about her shoulders. Unlike the painting, she was not in a light summer gown, but dressed for October. Pink and white were replaced by shades of russet, amber and mauve. The palate offset her cascading curls in the autumn light to perfection. If Lawrence could see her standing there, Darcy was certain he would consider doing a series of paintings of young women depicting summer, autumn, winter and spring. He would love a painting of the vision presented by this young woman as a companion to his Fragonard.

Darcy pulled his horse up to get a better view, and Bingley followed his lead. As they looked at her, the young woman, breaking all the rules of propriety waved at them. Without thinking, they both returned her greeting. At that, the young woman called to a huge dog that fell in at her side. Together, they turned and walked down the hill and out of sight.

Bingley smiled broadly at his dour friend and said, "See Darcy, the inhabitants of this country are uncommonly friendly."

The power of her image dissipated. Darcy did not speak, but cynically concluded that young women in this neighbourhood were uncommonly and improperly friendly to young men… if there was even the remotest possibility of marriage.

Elizabeth knew she had just witnessed the evidence that Netherfield Park was let at last--and to a young unmarried man. Becky had written to expect, Mr. Bingley to arrive in the neighbourhood shortly after Michaelmas. Lizzy could not imagine what had prompted her to wave. With any luck, by the time she met the new tenant of the neighbouring estate, she would be long gone from his memory--and her act should not jeopardize his opinion of her sister. Would he be the one for Jane, or would he break her heart? There were two men… Which one had leased Netherfield, and who was the other?

Posted on: 2010-11-27

Chapter 28 – Oh, What a Night

Lydia Bennet looked at herself in the mirror, and smiled at her reflection. She pinched her cheeks for the hundredth time as her stomach quivered with excitement. Tonight's assembly would be her first time fully out in society. As usual, her father and Elizabeth would not be attending. She wished they would reconsider, as it would make this momentous milestone so much more auspicious to have her entire family with her.

Papa had stopped going to assemblies with Jane and Mrs. Bennet when Elizabeth come home after a mysterious absence. She had returned an heiress--determined never to wed. Why would a young woman not want to marry? Lydia believed it would be marvellous--and the most delicious part would surely be choosing the wedding clothes. On her day to shine, she would wear the most beautiful gown--no bonnet for her--there would be flowers in her hair. Her husband would wear his scarlet coat; and all her family and neighbours would admire her as the loveliest bride Meryton had ever seen. Lydia scraped her teeth across her full lips to heighten their crimson colour. As her finger tip soothed away the sting, she wondered what it would feel like to be kissed.

The youngest of the five sisters was very proud of being the tallest--not just the tallest at fifteen but the tallest. Lydia was a striking combination of the darkest hair and the lightest eyes of Mr. Bennet's beautiful daughters. They all shared an abundance of curls, but Lydia's was a unique glossy ebony hue, and the pale blue of her eyes was offset by dark brows and long silky lashes. Though barely fifteen, she looked older than Kitty, who had turned sixteen more than three months earlier. As she admired her upswept locks adorned with silk roses, she recalled that her sister Elizabeth had looked like a child at her age. Lydia's mature looks and pleasing stout figure caused her to be noticed by the young officers of the militia during her frequent trips to Meryton. Unlike her sisters, she revelled in their admiration.

As Lydia had prepared for her first assembly, she had queried Lizzy as to why she did not want to attend balls. Her sister had replied that it seemed a waste to make herself available for dancing with men if she had no intention of ever marrying. She would not even dance at a neighbour's house party. To Lydia, it seemed she feared being touched. Sometimes Lydia wondered whether her sister disliked men, but her observations told her that was not true. Elizabeth's affection for John Reynolds was obvious; even if it was also evident she loved him as a brother.

Lydia was uncertain what had happened to her sister. Not only had she arrived home altered, but their entire family had changed in the wake of her return. Elizabeth had seemed determined to play advisor to her sisters. Though at first sceptical of her reasons, both her parents had eventually embraced and sometimes even augmented their daughter's mission. Her father had been moved to play an active role in moulding his daughters to ensure they were equipped to handle the 'vagaries of life' as he put it. Her mother, once she was persuaded by Lizzy that she and her sisters would be secure upon Mr. Bennet's demise, had even become a bit less frantic in her quest to marry them off. There had been a few tense days and a grand exhibition of her mother's famous nerves--before Mrs. Bennet had agreed to her heiress daughter's request to forgo assemblies and balls.

After Lizzy first returned and only Jane was out, the four sisters had a party at home on the nights of the assemblies. Lizzy or Mary would play, and they would practice dancing. Sometimes Mr. Bennet would participate and dance with his daughters.

When Jane returned home from her evening out, they always met in her room for a description of the participants and their attire. Though Mary had wanted to delay being in company, she and Kitty had been eager for their time to come. Elizabeth always appeared to Lydia to be a mixture of a wistful desire to participate, offset by some unfathomable fear.

Mary had finally been forced to join Jane and Mrs. Bennet in attendance. She had begged her father to intervene as he had for Lizzy. He was able to persuade Mrs. Bennet that Mary be given one additional year before coming out; but once she was sixteen, her mother insisted she begin to attend with Jane.

Kitty had followed a year later. She enjoyed dancing with many of the young men of the neighbourhood, but her mother and older sisters noticed that she always danced with John Reynolds twice.

Now it was Lydia's turn. She had been allowed to get a new gown for the occasion. Kitty had drawn a design to her specification, and she had arrived at the local modiste's with a firm vision in place. The bodice was white and the skirt was red with a shiny gold sash defining the waist. Her goal was to look exquisite while dancing with an officer in a scarlet coat. Her sisters had to agree, the dress was perfect, and she looked lovely. Jane loaned her a pair of red slippers, and Lizzy retrieved a red cloak with a hood she had not worn for years.

Over the years, the nightly sessions after assemblies began to happen more frequently. The sisters would often gather in one of their bedrooms to discuss propriety and the need to protect one's reputation--as well as how to tell if a man was serious about pursuing an attachment. Lizzy and Mary had encouraged their younger sisters to enjoy themselves when their time came, but to be very careful in evaluating new acquaintances. They talked of Mary's human balance sheet and being careful not to rely on first impressions. Elizabeth sometimes seemed overly anxious in her need to caution them that once out, they should never allow themselves to be alone with strangers… including women. Jane expressed her opinion of the goodness of most acquaintances, but also encouraged her sisters to be wary of giving their hearts away too easily. All five sisters became quite close, and enjoyed being able to rely on each other for advice, encouragement and borrowing clothes.

The previous night, Elizabeth had privately cautioned Lydia not to be too forward. It was not that her sister believed she would act improperly, but she worried that others might judge her harshly. So much of proper behaviour was about perception, and Elizabeth wanted to protect her youngest sister from gossips. Lydia had promised she would try to moderate her exuberance, but owned up that she had little regard for some aspects of society. For example, she had no interest in marrying for money or prestige. Acquaintances who desired those qualities in a marriage partner usually cared little for the person's character. Lydia had described them as 'takers' to her sister, and Elizabeth had seemed impressed with her assessment. She wanted to be like Charlotte and marry an officer. She felt they were 'givers', and as close to a knight in shining armour as she would ever meet. Lydia told her sister she admired their sacrifice, and felt theirs was the most honourable of all professions.

The night was beautiful... pleasantly mild with just a hint of crispness. Because of John's size, there was not room for all seven to ride in the carriage comfortably, so Lydia, Kitty and John Reynolds decided to walk to Meryton. Lydia and Kitty wore their boots with the intention of changing to their dancing slippers in the cloak room. When they arrived at the assembly hall, a very imposing looking carriage with a crest pulled up. Lydia and Kitty giggled that they were sure it must be the Netherfield party and considered standing on the steps and gawking; but in the end they decided to hurry inside and change their shoes. Lydia, in particular, wanted to begin dancing as soon as possible.

Fitzwilliam Darcy was in a carriage on his way to a country assembly--cursing his luck that his friend Charles Bingley felt the need to mix with his new neighbours--and insisting he do the same. His agreement to come to Hertfordshire had been given with the understanding that he would aid Charles in learning the workings of the estate he had leased. It had been no bother to help him find the property or appraise its worthiness, because the former he had done from town and the latter took but a few days. But this commitment was to last at least a month and possibly even longer. Luckily, he was obliged to leave by the end of November to ensure he arrived at Pemberley to make proper preparations for Bethany's fifth birthday. The thought of his daughter caused him to remember, how crucial his conference with her had been in accepting Charles' invitation. She had sent him to Hertfordshire to rid himself of his anger and to look for a wife who made him laugh and smile. Why had he listened to a child? She knew nothing of the difficulties in finding an appropriate partner. She believed it was all about signs from above--like Lewis and Sian. Besides, tonight he was in a foul mood thanks in large part to Bingley's sister Caroline; despite being in agreement that this rural assembly's company was bound to be intolerable.

Darcy enjoyed his friend's company. His sisters were another matter. They thrived on gossip of the ton, discussion of the latest fashions and felt themselves superior to almost everyone. The Bingleys' wealth had come from trade, but others would never discern it when listening to the 'superior sisters,' as Darcy had dubbed them soon after making their acquaintance. They gave off airs suggesting their ancestors had been intimates of the Tudors and had estates and titles aplenty.

Bingley's older sister, Louisa, was married to a rather indolent man of more fashion than means. They spent most of their time in town, living at their townhouse on Grosvenor Street. Charles' younger sister, Caroline Bingley, lived completely off her brother's income. She had been left a sizable dowry and an annuity by her father, but Darcy assumed she was saving her cash to buy a husband with a title or maybe even greater wealth. His foul mood had not dissipated since he arrived in Hertfordshire, because it had been obvious for some time that he was high on Caroline's list of prospective properties. Her overly intimate manner toward him was wearing on his nerves. Even Bethany and Lewis had seen her motives. The thought of his daughter's "interview" of Miss Bingley brought a smile. Still, as long as they were in company, he must walk a tight rope between civility for Charles' sake and whatever he could do to discourage her for his sake.

Ordinarily Darcy might have enjoyed being in the country in October for some sport, but this year, he had too many worries and responsibilities pulling at him. Bethany's plan for helping his sister seemed ridiculous in retrospect. Georgiana had almost been convinced to elope with George Wickham… of all people. He had a decidedly bad character, and nothing to recommend him except being the son of his father's late steward. It is true he had been a favourite of George Darcy… He had charmed his father much as he had charmed Georgiana when they had met again at Ramsgate.

Bethany was also wrong with regards Darcy's feelings about Georgiana. It was more than anger--he felt guilty for his disastrous choice of companion and deceived by his disreputable boyhood friend, once again--and that made his fury more enduring. His cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, who shared joint guardianship of Georgiana, had chastised him for imprudently accepting Mrs Younge's references without speaking personally with the writers of the letters. She had been instrumental in Wickham's plot to take advantage of his sister. Mrs.Younge, had known him, and she had agreed to scheme with him to bring Georgiana into his company--perhaps even before he had hired her. What a despicable thing for her to do. His sister had been but fifteen; and Mrs. Younge had accepted the responsibility of looking out for her welfare. It was just one more example of those from the lower classes not being honourable in their obligations. They cared more about monetary gain than honour.

As the carriage pulled up to the assembly hall, Darcy shivered with an attack of déjà vu. He noticed out the window, three young people hurrying up the stairs. The trio consisted of two young women and one tall and powerfully built young man. One of the ladies was wearing a red cloak with a hood. The giant looked vaguely familiar, but it was the red cloak that shot an image through his mind of a young woman with haunted eyes, dementedly quoting Shakespeare, shod in slippers walking to Cheapside in the rain… he had shut the door on her senseless actions. He thought of the young woman often, but refused to acknowledge the enigma of that day.

Once inside, the scent of lavender lingered in the air, as though someone had just passed wearing the fragrance. For a brief moment, he felt a strong sense of longing. There had been three in his life that smelled of lavender. The first was his mother. Of the remaining two, one had imitated the other. Bethany's mother had shared her fragrance with Anne because of its calming benefit. He had a flash of memory of holding his wife in his arms and smelling the fragrance in her hair. He missed their intimacy. Perhaps someday he could have that again; but maybe this time it would be different. But, how when so many women he met were just Caroline Bingley's with better connections.

The remembrance of the other woman who smelled of lavender caused him to shudder with a wave of guilt. She had become the secret fantasy image he used when his body insisted he indulge. He knew she had most of the characteristics Bethany and Lewis had requested in a mother, and some he would also enjoy; but unfortunately, she was also morally deficient and decidedly mercenary. It was important that his children be raised with good principles the way he had been.

He noticed that the room had more men than usual, and many in attendance wore red coats. That meant fewer ladies without partners, so his usual practice of dancing very little might be less noticeable. Charles would probably still harass him to participate, but perhaps his friend could be persuaded to allow him to spend his time observing rather than mingling.

He took one look at the young ladies assembled and realized he could hardly be expected to find an appropriate wife among these rustics. He needed a woman with impeccable family ties--who would love him and his children and not his income and position. Besides, these ladies would have abominable country manners, and none of the elegance and accomplishments of women of the ton.

The room started buzzing the minute the Bingley party arrived. Darcy could hear the snatches of conversation… five thousand a year… ten thousand a year… a great estate in Derbyshire… both single. All of his fears as to the nature of the company were confirmed in the first ten minutes. He was subjected to knowing smiles and greedy glances inspecting him from his head to his toes and back up again. He felt like he was the fox and they were the dogs, and he was miserable. Almost immediately, he gravitated to the side of the room. Caroline Bingley joined him a short while later to partner him in his ordeal.

The crowd was indeed assessing the party. Mrs. Bennet, her sister Mrs. Phillips and her neighbours, Mrs. Long and Lady Lucas, were some of the most important matrons in this neighbourhood of four and twenty. They dominated the conversation among the married ladies and were quite indiscreet in their evaluation of the Netherfield visitors. Most of these ladies had unmarried daughters or nieces, and their major concern in life was their futures. A successful marriage for those in their charge meant added consequence in the neighbourhood, and the competition was fierce.

Mr. Bingley was considered good-looking and gentlemanlike by Mrs. Bennet. Mrs. Long thought he had a pleasant countenance and easy unaffected manners. All the women thought his sisters were fine women, and were in awe of their gowns. They knew them to be the latest London fashion, and noticed the daring new necklines that exposed so much more flesh. All the women silently resolved to make adjustments to the gowns of their daughters and nieces so as not to appear unfashionable in their presence. Mr. Bingley's brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, looked very gentlemanly, but Mr. Darcy drew their minute scrutiny. He was a fine, tall person, with handsome features and a noble mien. They were excited by the report from Lady Lucas of his having ten thousand a year. She had smugly imparted the news within minutes of his entrance.

Sir William Lucas was the only member of the neighbourhood with a knighthood. With the assumption that this fashionable group from London would feel more comfortable being greeted by a man who had spent time at Saint James, he had assumed the role of welcoming the Netherfield party to Meryton society. Thus Lady Lucas believed her family the most prominent--despite the fact that Sir William did not own an estate, and had made his fortune through trade. Similarly, Mrs. Bennet took issue with that family's supposed standing. Since Sir Walter Trent--a baronet and her husband's best friend since childhood--had been forced to abandon Netherfield and move to Bath in the interest of economy, Mrs. Bennet, who was the wife of an established gentleman, considered herself to have the highest consequence.

The ladies set aside their differences and declared Mr. Darcy to be much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and in the early part of the evening, he was looked upon with great admiration. Soon though, his aloofness was noted, and the favourable impression of his manners gave way to disgust, which turned the tide of his popularity. It was determined he was proud, thinking himself above his company, unable to be pleased by any but his own party; and despite his large estate in Derbyshire, he was judged to have a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance. With universal aversion, the group next decided he was unworthy to be compared with his friend.

Miss Bingley, prior to coming to console with Mr. Darcy, had joined her brother as Sir William Lucas introduced him to all the principal people in the room. She had come to the assembly prepared to know any potential competition, by having her maid ferret out information about the families in the neighbourhood from the staff at Netherfield. Since arriving, she had gleaned a bit more information and overheard some gossip about the assembled society. She hoped she could provide some amusement for Mr. Darcy and increase her standing with him. He had been in such a foul mood since he had arrived in Hertfordshire.

"Mr. Darcy, there is a dispute in this neighbourhood over which family is the most prominent." She snickered with supercilious glee. "You remember that tiresome man who came to Netherfield to make Charles's acquaintance, Sir William Lucas. Lady Lucas believes being a knight's wife makes her most important despite his having been in trade." Darcy stifled his distaste as he saw the look of superiority on this hypocrite who had forgotten her own roots. "She is in competition with the wife of the owner of an estate. It is nothing like Pemberley--quite small, and only brings in two thousand a year--but it is the largest next to Netherfield. Longbourn, as it is called, is owned by a man named Bennet and is entailed on the male line. The man had the great misfortune to only have five daughters. They are, however, considered by the local populace to be great beauties." Miss Bingley had a look of contempt on her face at the idea of these country bumpkins being handsome.

"I will have to admit that the Bennet sister dancing with Charles is quite pretty." She pointed out the couple, and Mr. Darcy saw a stately, serene, pale-haired woman with a lovely figure. He thought to himself that she would qualify as a beauty, even in the highest circles. The name Bennet was vaguely familiar, but he could recall none of his acquaintance with that surname. Darcy came back to the present and realized Caroline was continuing to prattle.

"The other sisters present are tolerable but hardly worthy of their reputation." She lowered her voice as she prepared to impart some gossip she had gleaned. "One sister is somewhat of a recluse. She does not go into company, and generally stays home with her father. Her mother is the loud and vulgar woman over there; the one I saw you reacting to when she was getting so much pleasure discussing your income." Mr. Darcy kept his mask in place and nodded his head to Miss Bingley, but did not comment on the common mother of the supposedly beautiful daughters.

Miss Bingley continued with what she considered to be her most delicious news. "The Bennet sister who is not in attendance is a real mystery. She was away from home for an extended period about six years ago, and during that time was left some money. No one in the neighbourhood knows how much or from whom she got the inheritance. It is even rumoured that her parents do not know the particulars. Upon her return, she refused to be out saying she does not intend to wed. To this day, she never attends any social events but the house parties of her neighbours." Caroline's voice rose and she tittered behind her fan at the young woman's plight. "I am of the opinion that despite all the rumours of inheritance--she probably is not out because she, unlike her sisters, is not in the least handsome."

Darcy wanted to end this conversation with Miss Bingley. He knew the best way was to agree with her. What could it hurt? It was not as if he knew any of these people. "I am certain you are correct. Even with an inheritance to ensure her security, there would be no reason to shun the pleasure of spending time with others. She is probably much less than tolerable, and does not want to risk being slighted by men." Darcy felt slightly hypocritical at his remark. He did not enjoy spending time with his circle, and rarely participated in events of the Season. But certainly his reasons bore no similarity to those of the pathetic young lady Miss Bingley had been mocking.

Mr. Darcy asked Miss Bingley for a set. It was a ploy to keep Charles from chastising him for not participating at all. He would dance with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, walk around the room a bit, and then come back to his wall. His fondest wish was for this evening to be over.

As they danced, he pondered his stay at Netherfield, and Bethany and Lewis's list of requirements for a mother. Even if there was anyone worth considering, how would he be able to tell in a gathering like this whether anyone was good at telling stories or walking? The trio who had arrived before their party seemed to have walked, and one of the young ladies had smelled of lavender… another of his children's necessary attributes was to smell good. A very forward young woman had danced every dance with one officer after another. He was quite sure she was one who had walked--but she was hardly appropriate as a mother for Bethany and Lewis.

Miss Bingley's disclosure to Mr. Darcy and his indiscreet reply were overheard by one of the officer's wives who had been walking by. Colonel Forster's wife, the former Charlotte Lucas, was an intimate friend of both Jane and Elizabeth Bennet. She was incensed at Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy's lack of civility, gossiping about people they did not know, and deciding with such assurance, the reason for Lizzy's choices in life. Charlotte did not know what happened to her friend, but she did know Elizabeth Bennet was more than tolerably attractive. She quickly sought out Jane to reveal their cruel words. She was with her sister, Lydia, and Charlotte's sister, Maria--talking with her husband and a group of his men not far from where Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley were dancing. Charlotte pointed out the offenders and told what she had overheard. Jane and Lydia left almost immediately in the wake of Charlotte's news to find their other sisters and their mother.

Colonel Forster saw the man and woman his wife was complaining about and realized he knew and liked him. Mr. Darcy was a close friend's cousin. Richard Fitzwilliam, Ronald Bledsoe and Lawrence Forster had trained together more than ten years ago. They had become best comrades and had stayed friends throughout their careers. All had been promoted to colonel three years previous, and soon after, Colonel Forster had left the regulars and taken command of a militia unit. The militia was a much better situation for a man with a wife and family. The woman Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley had been gossiping about was a childhood friend of his wife.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a person with a secret sadness. Charlotte said she had once had the liveliest of characters. She still loved to entertain children, and it was in that capacity he had gotten a glimpse of what she must have once been like.

Darcy noticed a group of people looking in their direction. They seemed to be talking about him and Miss Bingley. All of a sudden, he realized he knew one of those in the group. He had made his acquaintance through his cousin Richard. When the dance was over, he crossed the room to speak to Colonel Forster. They exchanged pleasantries, but Mr. Darcy felt disapproval in his manner.

"You are stationed here in Meryton, Colonel?"

"Yes, it is a fortuitous assignment. Mrs. Forster is from the area and always enjoys spending time in the neighbourhood. She is the daughter of Sir William Lucas. My children love visiting their grandparents and aunt, and my daughter's godmother lives nearby at Longbourn. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is a great favourite of theirs, as she is a marvellous story teller and never tires of entertaining them with songs and games. She is the young woman you and Miss Bingley were gossiping about. She does not deserve your ridicule. Miss Elizabeth is a beautiful young woman, who has chosen to devote her life to her sisters and her parents"

Mr. Darcy was mortified at the rebuke from Colonel Forster. "You are right, Colonel. It was uncivil of me to speculate about someone whom I have never met, nor even heard of before." At that moment, it dawned on him that his last statement could be painfully untrue. "Please give my apologies to your wife, and I believe I saw Miss Bennet's sister with you before. I will let Miss Bingley know we were overheard, and I am sure she will be equally apologetic."

Darcy got away from the group as quickly as he could and still be polite. He was having difficulty breathing, and he could feel sweat dripping from his scalp and soaking his neck cloth. The balcony doors were close by, and he proceeded outside to get some relief. The name Miss Elizabeth Bennet was ringing in his ears. He struggled to remember Bethany's mother's family name and where in Hertfordshire she was from. He remembered her lopsided grin when she told him she had never been away from home, but he could not remember where exactly that had been. He noticed a young couple talking further down the balcony. The young woman had beautiful hair--a mass of fiery curls blazing under the light of a torch, loosely swept up with numerous tendrils escaping their confines. He could only see her back, but he saw the young man's face. For the second time that night, he recognized someone. He had changed in the five years he had been gone. At eighteen, he had been tall and gangly, but now at twenty-three, he had massive shoulders, and was an exceptionally powerful looking man. He was the man with the two young women, and now he knew why he had seemed familiar. John Reynolds looked like his father.

The young woman had hair just like Bethany and her mother. Had the reclusive Miss Elizabeth Bennet come to the assembly after all? There was something about the scene that made him uncomfortable. John Reynolds seemed to be enamoured with the young woman, and seemed to be consoling her. He smiled often, and seemed to be saying everything would be fine, and not to worry. He distinctly heard him say, "I know him to be a good man." John Reynolds looked up and noticed Mr. Darcy. He broke into a grin and pulled his companion down the balcony. When they got close, Darcy knew for sure it was not Miss Elizabeth. For an instant, he was relieved, although he knew not why. He had recommended the young John Reynolds for the position of steward to her estate.

As he waited for a new set of reprimands to begin, he chastised himself. Why had he gone along with Caroline's cutting remarks? He had said out loud that the mother of the daughter he thought most beautiful… his precious, precocious daughter who so reminded him of her mother. Oh my, he said she was less than tolerable… and he did so just because he was feeling peevish and uncomfortable with the company.

"Mr. Darcy, it has been five years. It is wonderful to see you again. Please allow me to present my friend, Miss Catherine Bennet. Miss Bennet is daughter to my employer.

Miss Catherine curtsied, but barely smiled--even so, he noticed one dimple. Did everyone in this family have smiles or grins that only registered on one side? She responded to him in a most perfunctory manner, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Darcy. John has spoken very fondly of his youth in Derbyshire and visiting his aunt at Pemberley." With her next statement, she smiled a bit more, but still only had the one dimple. She said, "He says Pemberley is the most beautiful of all estates, and he has promised to show it to me some day. It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Darcy. I must leave you and John to reminisce. Propriety dictates I have been out here too long, and I know my sisters will be looking for me."

When Catherine Bennet was back inside, Darcy asked. "Are you engaged to Miss Catherine, John?"

"Not officially, but we do have an understanding. Her father and Miss Elizabeth have agreed, but think we should wait a year. Kitty, Miss Catherine, will not turn seventeen for many months, and Lizzy in particular, thinks she is too young. Both of us agree, and the year will give me time to make our married life more secure and enjoyable."

"Miss Elizabeth decides who her sisters marry?"

"Yes, but it is a complicated situation. I do not want you to think she meddles in her sister's decisions. Please come and see me at Longbourn, and I can explain what Mr. Bennet, Miss Elizabeth and I have accomplished in the last five years. We have increased Longbourn's annual income from two thousand to nearly three thousand pounds; and that is outside of the profit from the brickyard."

Mr. Reynolds looked uncomfortable as he said, "I understand you were overheard saying some unkind words about Miss Elizabeth. She and Mr. Bennet will hear of it. All of her sisters are incensed by your remarks. That is why my sweet Kitty could hardly be civil to you. Even if her sisters, Mrs. Forster, Mr. Collins and I refrain from telling them, her mother and her Aunt Phillips will not. I suggest when you come to Longbourn, you consider apologizing to Lizzy and her father."

"I will, John. I cannot remember the last time I have been guilty of such incredibly poor judgment and rude behaviour. Please let them know I will pay my respects in the next few days."

Darcy and John parted once they were back in the assembly room. Darcy went in search of something for his parched throat. He hoped to go back to clinging to the wall and avoiding any more encounters with Bennets or Bennet friends. He noticed that Charles was dancing once again with the tall, light-haired Bennet and was struck how the two looked like a perfectly matched pair of angels. He assumed the young woman who was enthusiastically dancing with all the officers was also probably a Bennet, because she had arrived with Miss Catherine and John. Neither of them looked that perturbed that their sister had been the butt of a careless rumour. That left one more sister here at the assembly whose identity he did not know. He got himself some punch and turned around to see a third person he knew.

"Mr. Darcy, how wonderful to see you here tonight. I left your mother-in-law well only a short while ago and I return tomorrow to Hunsford. I will see her again at services on Sunday."

Darcy cringed to realize the man speaking to him was Lady Catherine's parson, Mr. Collins. He recalled John had just mentioned a Mr. Collins. Was his aunt's rector somehow connected to the Bennet family? Mr. Collins' looks were greatly improved--his hair was no longer plastered to his scalp with oil and he smelled of lemon and rosemary. Standing next to Mr. Collins was a young woman who was slightly older than Miss Catherine. She was not even making any attempt to smile at him. Her look was disapproving. She had light brown hair without the red and gold highlights of her sisters and piercing green eyes--he had seen before. Her looks were not as striking as Miss Elizabeth's but she would be an attractive young woman… if she smiled.

"Mr. Darcy may I present my betrothed, Miss Mary Bennet."

Miss Mary curtsied, but still did not smile or speak to him.

"Congratulations, Mr. Collins, Miss Mary, on your engagement."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. It is an honour to receive congratulations from the son-in-law of my revered patroness."

Miss Mary Bennet spoke for the first time. "Mr. Darcy, it has come to my attention that you said some unkind things about my sister. I think it highly improper to speak unfeelingly about anyone. It goes against my conceptions of Christian charity. My sister is a very good young woman. She is loved by her sisters, her parents, her cousins, her aunts and uncles, our servants and our tenants, and most of the population of Meryton. She has been subjected to merciless gossip since she returned to Hertfordshire five years ago, and this is just one more slight she will have to endure. She is not a fragile person, but she barely sleeps now, and I am sure that notoriety of this kind will not help. She stayed home tonight to avoid society, and ended up being the subject of everyone's conversation--because of you."

Mary Bennet looked toward Mr. Collins, smiled and squeezed his hand. "I know I am mortifying my betrothed by being abrupt to a relative of his patroness; but I feel very passionate about my sister. I would do anything to protect her. I know we are indebted to Lady Catherine for his living; but we are also indebted to my sister. My father's estate is entailed on the male line, and Mr. Collins is the heir. In the past five years, the income of the estate has been increased by one thousand pounds per year, due in large part by the vision of Mr. Reynolds and the dedication of my sister."

She looked Mr. Darcy squarely in the eye as she continued. "I would not think of saying unkind things about Lady Catherine's niece, your sister. It would be wrong of me to say anything because I do not know her. I only know she exists because Mr. Collins has told me about how lovely she is, and how accomplished she is on the pianoforte. He has told me about you, about your beautiful children, about your uncle and aunt, the Earl and the Countess, and about your cousins, the Viscount and his wife and about the Colonel. He speaks very highly of all your family."

Darcy said very quietly and humbly, "Miss Mary, I am very sorry for my unkind words. Mr. Reynolds convinced me to come to Longbourn and apologize to both your sister and your father. I am happy to make your acquaintance, and I look forward to meeting you again in Kent. Now, if you will excuse me, I think I must find Mr. Bingley."

Mr. Darcy started to walk away, and then returned. He said something that was most odd to Mary Bennet. "Mr. Collins, have you told Miss Elizabeth Bennet about Lady Catherine's family?"

"No, Mr. Darcy… I have only shared my observations of your family with my betrothed. She will soon be at Hunsford, and all your family will eventually become known to her." Mr. Collins was unsure whether this knowledge pleased or displeased Mr. Darcy as the inscrutable mask he often wore was now firmly in place.

Darcy turned, and once out of hearing of Mr. Collins and Miss Mary Bennet, let out a loud sigh. This had been a very vexing night. There was a lull in the dancing, and Bingley was talking with all the Bennet sisters except Miss Mary. Mr. Darcy shrugged his broad shoulders and took an unprecedented step. He joined the group and asked Bingley for introductions.

"Charles, I have been introduced by Mr. Reynolds to Miss Catherine Bennet, and I have just met Miss Mary Bennet. Would you please do me the honour of acquainting me with the other Miss Bennets?"

Charles gave his friend a quizzical smile and said, "Certainly. Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, may I introduce Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Lydia Bennet of Longbourn."

"I am very pleased to meet you, and I want to assure you that your reputation as beautiful young women is completely deserved. I know Miss Bingley and I were unpardonably rude toward you, and more importantly to your sister. I plan within a few days to come to Longbourn and make amends to both your sister and your father for my uncivil remarks. I was reminded of the gravity of my behaviour by something Miss Mary said to me. I have a sister that I love dearly, and would be deeply offended if I thought people were gossiping about her. I would protect her at any cost. I hope when we are again in company, that you will forgive my uncivil behaviour." He bowed to the young ladies and whispered to his friend. "Charles, I have decided to take the carriage home and will send it back for the rest of our party."

Posted on: 2010-12-01

Chapter 29 - A Riddle Wrapped in a Mystery inside an Enigma

"Oh, Mr. Bennet, we have had a most delightful evening. I wish you had been there. Jane was so admired. Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice. Only think of that my dear--he actually danced with her twice! She was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time." Mrs. Bennet lost her gloating look and tone and her expression changed to annoyance as she continued, "First of all he asked Maria Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand up with her!"

Lydia rolled her eyes in exasperation with her mother. "Mama you know he only asked Maria because she is the daughter of Sir William, and it was he who introduced those at the assembly to Mr. Bingley. Both Mr. Bingley and Maria know they are not suited to each other. Besides, you know Maria wants to marry an officer like her sister--just as I do. This was my special night, and you have not told Papa and Lizzy how sought after as a partner I was all evening, or that I danced more than any other young lady."

Mrs. Bennet ignored her youngest daughter's comment, and continued with, for her, what was the most important news of the night. "However, he did not admire Maria at all. He could not stop staring at Jane as she was going down the dance. So he got Sir William to introduce him to her, and asked her for the two next. Then the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with Miss Long, and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two sixth with…"

Mr. Bennet's impatience with his wife's account had reached its limit. "Have pity on me, Mrs. Bennet. Say no more of his partners. I too am interested in how our youngest daughter enjoyed her first ball."

"She was much admired as we all knew she would be. Oh! But my dear," continued Mrs. Bennet, "I am quite delighted with Mr. Bingley. He is so excessively handsome, and his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. Though, I dare say the cut of their gowns was quite daring. It must be the latest London fashion. I intend to have all our girls' gowns cut as low."

Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against any description of finery and questioned the propriety of exposing more of their daughters' flesh. She was therefore obliged to seek another subject. She related with much bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire--after first disclosing to her husband and daughter that he had an income of ten thousand a year.

Mary looked perturbed with her mother's rendition and added, "But Mama, one of Mr. Bingley's… as you called them… charming sisters also participated in the uncivil remarks. You are not telling Papa the story accurately, because you want him to think favourably of Mr. Bingley and his sisters. You approve of Mr. Bingley because he was quite attentive to Jane, and you have no expectations of Mr. Darcy ever paying notice to any of your daughters--and most importantly, no other young lady in the neighbourhood. Mr. Darcy acted honourably and apologized to several of us, and he promised he would come here soon to make amends to Lizzy and Papa. Miss Bingley made no such effort."

Lizzy had turned pale at the mention of the insult by Mr. Darcy. Jane noticed first and said, "It is quite late, and I am fatigued. I think we should all go to bed." She slipped her arm through her sister's and led her up the stairs. Mary, Kitty and Lydia followed, leaving their parents to discuss Mr. Darcy.

Mrs. Bennet ignored her daughters and ranted on to her husband, "He is a most disagreeable, horrid man; so high and conceited that nobody pleased him! He walked here and walked there. Jane, who is too kind for her own good, said he was just shy; but I am of the opinion he fancied himself above our company. For the first hour, he spent a great deal of time looking out the window, and talked to no one but Mr. Bingley's sister. It was while he was speaking with her that he said such unflattering things about our daughters and was completely uncivil toward Lizzy. He danced only once with Miss Bingley and then left early. I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set downs. I quite detest the man."

"My dear, I am unable to decide which vexes you more, the fact that he said something unkind about Lizzy, or that he did not dance with any of our other daughters. I think I will be sensible and emulate our daughters and go to bed." Mr. Bennet left his wife standing in the drawing room with her mouth open and walked toward the stairs.

By the time Lizzy had climbed the stairs with her sisters, she had managed to get her emotions under control. All the sisters agreed to change into their nightclothes and join Lizzy in her bedroom to give her a proper description of the ball.

Jane gave a more nuanced report of Mr. Bingley and his sisters. She related more accurately what Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy had said than their mother's report. She also told of Colonel Forster describing Mr. Darcy as a good man. He was best friends with Mr. Darcy's cousin… one Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Elizabeth held her breath at the mention of Mr. Darcy's cousin, and finally exhaled in relief when she realized it was Lord Wolfbridge's brother. Lydia noticed her sister's reaction, but knew not what it meant. She had heard of Colonel Fitzwilliam from Maria. Lydia had learned from her friend that he and a Colonel Bledsoe were very close with Colonel Forster. Maria had told her both of them were immensely entertaining, and Lydia hoped one day to make their acquaintance. Did Lizzy know Colonel Fitzwilliam?

Kitty told of her encounter with Mr. Darcy, and related how much her John admired him. He was once again described as a good man, and that John's aunt had been the housekeeper at Pemberley since Mr. Darcy was a boy. Mr. Darcy had assured John he would pay a visit to say he was sorry. She also told how he sought out Jane and Lydia in the presence of Mr. Bingley to express his remorse for his behaviour.

Mary's version of her meeting with him was similar. She indicated Mr. Collins knew Mr. Darcy, but did not go into the details they had discussed. For some reason, Mr. Darcy's odd question bothered Mary. She decided to protect her sister from that bit of news that only she and William knew. She would warn him not to talk about Lady Catherine's relationship to Mr. Darcy with Elizabeth. She wondered whether she should confide that news to her father.

Lydia was bored with all this discussion of uncivil remarks and Mr. Darcy being a good man. She changed the conversation to describe the pleasing aspects of the ball. Her sisters were treated to how excessively happy she was to be out and thanked them for teaching her all the dances and loaning her clothes. Lizzy was especially thanked for remembering the red cloak she had packed away five years ago. Within minutes, the youngest Bennet daughter had them all giggling as she described each of her partners and which ones stepped on her toes or went the wrong way. They all laughed at the thought of Lydia describing these events for their father and his misery at having to listen to the minute detail of each set.

Lizzy was glad they had stopped talking about Mr. Darcy and his slight. Even a few moments respite from worrying about his being in Hertfordshire and the inherent danger of his presence was a relief.

Jane said Mr. Bingley was by far the most elegant dancer of her acquaintance. This admission prompted her sisters to tease her about being enamoured of such an angelic looking young man. Lydia shocked Mary when she said she hoped he had at least a bit of the devil in him as well. She also volunteered that the blue of his coat perfectly matched his eyes.

Next, they moved on to the cut of his sisters' gowns and their mother's plans to have them all show more bosom at the next ball. Lydia looked over and noticed that Kitty had fallen asleep. She and Mary woke her and helped her to bed.

When Elizabeth was alone with her older sister, she probed for more of Jane's assessment of Mr. Bingley. Lizzy noticed she had a bit of a dreamy look on her face when she finally spoke.

"He is just what a young man ought to be… sensible, good-humoured and lively. I never saw such happy manners. He is very much at ease in company, and with such perfect good-breeding!"

"He is also handsome according to our mother," said Elizabeth; "A pleasant appearance is something a young man ought to possess, if he possibly can... and even more important, he has five thousand a year. His character is thereby complete."

Jane laughed at her sister's humour, but then turned serious, "I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment."

"Did you not? I have always felt you should be showered with praise. But that is one great difference between us. Esteem by others always seems to amaze you. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. He sounds from everyone's description to be very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have admired at least one person who was much less deserving."

"Dear Lizzy, don't bring him up tonight."

"I bring him up because he is a good example of how you are a great deal too apt to like people in general. On the one hand, you think them all pleasant, but on the other hand, you are afraid to let any see how you feel about them--including me. I have never heard you speak ill of any human being, including George Trent, but you also no longer expose your true sentiments. For five years you have danced with men, you later told me were agreeable, but that is as far as you will go."

"Lizzy, my need to guard my heart is a lot more complicated than being jilted by George. I first lost Tom, and then I lost you. You were such a comfort when Tom died, but you were gone when I was trying to make sense of my regard for his cousin. Besides, you have no right to judge me for my inability to reveal my private feelings. To this day, you have never disclosed why you returned home so altered. Elizabeth, I have never picked at your pain and assumed you would tell me when you could. I deserve the same courtesy from you."

Lizzy knew her sister was correct. She hugged her and whispered, "I am so sorry, Jane. I did not mean to hurt you."

The two sisters remained entwined for a few seconds. Breaking away first, Jane smiled at her sister. "I know you want only the best for me and have always been my most fervent admirer--even more than Mama. Lizzy laughed and kissed her sister's cheek as the anxiety between the two was broken.

Jane began again to attempt to explain some of her feelings. "The one with whom I will spend my life must first be sure I am the one for them. The confidence I have in his affection must be as I knew Tom's to be." She chuckled at what she was about to say. "Once I am certain he truly wants me, I will decide whether I will have him."

Lizzy joined in her sister's laughter and asked with a smirk, "But what if the perfect man for you is also afraid to disclose his true feelings because he fears being hurt?"

Her older sister could not think of a witty reply so she just shrugged her shoulders. Finally she said with a combination of humour and passion. "I am not afraid to join you in spinsterhood."

Elizabeth decided to push her sister for a bit more information about Mr. Bingley. She kept her tone light and teasing so as not to have a repeat of their earlier disagreement. "From the time we began confiding in each other as little girls, you have taken the good of everybody's character and made it still better… and said nothing of the bad. That is a character flaw which belongs to you alone. Mr. Bingley sounds like an honourable and amiable man, and he appears to admire you. He has money, so he does not need a bride with a huge dowry the way Mr. Trent did… and besides, you will have a decent dowry." She finished her query by asking with a grin, "And so do you agree with Mama about Miss Bingley at Mrs. Hursts? Obviously at least his one sister does not have manners equal to his."

Jane took the question quite seriously and thought for a minute before she replied. "Certainly not… She was wrong to say what she did about you. However, when I met Mr. Bingley's sisters, they were quite polite... and even complimentary to me. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother and keep his house. Unless I am much mistaken, we shall find very charming neighbours in her and him."

Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not persuaded. She had paid careful attention to Kitty's description of Mr. Darcy's words when he apologized to them in the presence of Mr. Bingley. He had expressed remorse to her sisters for remarks they might have heard that they were only tolerable, and complemented them on their beauty. Jane had told Lizzy that Charlotte had described uncivil remarks about the reclusive Bennet sister during the exchange between Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Lizzy believed it was Miss Bingley who had disparaged the beauty of all the Bennet sisters, and it just happened that she had not been overheard. She knew herself to be a more acute observer because she had much less pliancy of temper than her sister. Besides, she knew Mr. Darcy was not one to spread rumours. Mrs. Darcy had shared with her how uncomfortable her husband was in social situations, and she knew he himself had also been the subject of much gossip this evening--at the hands of her mother and her cronies.

Sleep eluded Elizabeth as her mind raced with the fear of her meeting with Mr. Darcy. She had been successful in keeping any hint of the true circumstances of her lost year from becoming known. Though some of the most vicious speculations had hinted at a man being involved in her inheritance, no one had ever mentioned a child. His presence could jeopardize her situation and fuel the gossip. She wondered if the talk at the assembly had mentioned his being a widower with two children. Her mother had not mentioned that detail when she told her father about Pemberley and his income.

The tossing and turning finally got the best of her. Arising to sit on the windowsill and stare at the night sky, she finally resolved to avoid him until she could learn exactly what was being said of him in the neighbourhood. Her father could accept his apology without her presence; and then carefully, without calling attention to her interest, try to ascertain what he had discerned of Mr. Darcy.

Her mind went in a different direction, and she wished she could talk to him privately. She missed their discussions. Had he revised his ill opinion of her because of Anne's confession?

Darcy had hesitated to retire until Bingley, his sisters and Mr. Hurst's arrived back at Netherfield. He wanted to learn what had happened after his departure. While he waited, he stared at the fire and drank to dull the edge of his mortification. The fire's glow brought to mind a beautiful young woman, her belly filled with Bethany, reading in the candlelight. Originally he had been drawn to Miss Elizabeth's joy, but when that had been extinguished, he had noticed the young woman's seriousness laced with humour. The brandy urged him to remember her soft sensuousness. Even Lewis could see that quality in the Fragonard at not quite four. Oh how he wished he could take back his remark to Miss Bingley; and even more he wished he had not come to Hertfordshire. He was not in a mood to confront his life's greatest conundrum so close on the heels of Ramsgate.

For five years, Miss Elizabeth had been the subject of his most private thoughts, and shamefully they were all too often inappropriate. In the beginning, shortly after Bethany's birth, he had often tried to sketch her character but was always unsuccessful. The thought of that day he met her leaving Darcy House caused him to shudder. Deep in his soul, he feared Edmund had taken advantage of her, and somehow Anne had helped. Despite his anxiety about his family's actions, he clung to the belief that a well-bred young woman would not have allowed herself to be violated by a cad, even if he was a viscount. How could he say that when Georgiana's situation was not that different? Georgiana had agreed to be alone with Wickham, and if there had been gossip, he might have been forced to allow the marriage to keep her from scandal. But, he could not find it in himself to blame his sister for what was surely the fault of Wickham and Mrs. Younge.

His mind as always returned to the most damning fact. Regardless of the circumstances, Miss Elizabeth had been intelligent enough to realize she could gain from her situation. Where he disliked the memory of the haunted child walking to Cheapside, he never shied from being incensed by the vision of the fifteen-year-old in her green silk dress negotiating. Her demands, given with unflinching purpose and cool disdain, definitely showed a lack of breeding. Georgiana would never try to turn such a situation into monetary betterment.

He thought back to the conversation he had overheard at White's the day he had followed her to Cheapside. Friends of Lord Wolfbridge had been laughing about his latest conquest. They found it very amusing that some chit had helped with her buttons. If they had been talking about Miss Elizabeth, that would imply she was a willing participant. His cousin had said she had removed her clothes as an enticement, and what she had wanted was to become the next Countess of Elderton. Darcy shook the memory of their discussion at Bethany's baptism from his head. His cousin was hardly one he should believe. Still, a proper young lady would have put up a struggle if someone were trying to compromise her. None of the servants at Darcy House had ever indicated that a woman had been trying to fight off unwelcome advances from Edmund.

Finally after three brandies, he succeeded in convincing himself that she had known what she was doing all along. She was from a different class… they did not have the same sense of propriety. Yes, her father was a gentleman, but every one of her other relations was in trade. That class only cared about money… never about honour.

What was he to make of her sister's attachment to John Reynolds? That seemed to fly in the face of their being mercenary. His family was in service. That was much worse than being in trade. John seemed to be revered within the Bennet family as a son… even before the marriage. And then there was Mr. Collins... Darcy had always thought Lady Catherine's parson to be obsequious toward his aunt. Somehow he seemed different tonight. One thing was certain; Miss Mary Bennet was not obsequious… to anyone. She had been an odd combination of righteous indignation towards him, and a passionate protector of a beloved sister.

Mrs. Bennet seemed vulgar and very competitive with her neighbours. Her desire for prominence seemed to be the source of her aspirations for Miss Bennet to be admired by Bingley. Whatever her motive, she was definitely enamoured of his income.

The youngest daughter, Lydia, was very forward. She did not seem to wait for proper introductions to begin a conversation with one or another of the officers. As he stared into the fire to ponder their shortcomings, he suddenly remembered that Bethany was both competitive and forward. Those characteristics in her had always made him laugh, but now he considered that he should try to discourage them in the future. She obviously took after her mother and her mother's family in many ways.

Darcy's brandy fogged brain indulged in reminiscing about his interactions with Bethany's mother, and how she, unlike anyone else, except perhaps Richard, could make him laugh. He was positive Miss Elizabeth had purposely tried to make him laugh several times, and he would be dishonest if he did not admit he enjoyed talking books, theatre, and even politics with her. She had given her opinions very decidedly for one so young.

Once he thought she had flirted with him… how inappropriate to flirt with a married man. Maybe she thought it a way to extract even more money from him? After Anne died, during a period of intense loneliness, and when Bethany and Lewis were still quite small, he had briefly thought of proposing a less than legitimate relationship to her… one where she would have access to her daughter and he would have access to her. He had quickly abandoned the idea because he instinctually knew she would be offended and refuse; and he would be dishonoured in his own eyes… not to mention the danger to his daughter. Miss Bingley had said the local gossip was that she refused to marry. He knew her money to be safe from an unscrupulous husband because it was with her uncle… so why was she reticent?

He had resented her fear of being touched by him; especially since it was obvious she had not the same qualms about Dr. Wilder. Someone who was flirting for financial gain would not express such revulsion. Out of the blue, he thought of her toes. He thought of her wading with Mrs. Hinton's children and he thought of her bare feet as she lay on the floor quoting Shakespeare. Her feet were small, and her toes were perfectly shaped. He had not seen that many women's bare feet, but he was certain hers were the loveliest. He wished he could kiss her toes. He was startled out of his reverie by the sounds of someone's arrival. He blushed at what he had been unconsciously imagining.

When Bingley's sisters came in, they were chattering on about the assembly and how common the participants were. Next they went on and on about how out of fashion the gowns were. They were sure none of the young ladies had ever had a gown from London. They found it particularly droll that one of young woman had dressed to echo the militia officers' uniforms--they believed she was a Bennet.

Mr. Hurst got himself a brandy and plopped himself down on one of the sofas. "Damn waste of a good evening. I would have much preferred to stay home and play cards. Most of the men at the assembly preferred dancing to games."

Mrs. Hurst was a little tipsy, and giggled at some news she had heard. "Mr. Darcy, did you know that one of the Bennet sisters has an understanding with your housekeeper's nephew? Charles, I am sure that is something to think about with regard Miss Jane Bennet."

Between Bingley and Darcy, there had grown a very steady friendship since the day Bethany had approached the angelic looking man in the park. In spite of their great opposition of character, Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper--and Darcy most appreciated his lack of duplicity. In contrast, Bingley's sisters specialized in intrigue, and were forever calculating how to get the best position at a table, or in Caroline's case, the best escort into dinner, which in her opinion was, of course, Darcy. He knew Mrs. Hurst had fired the first shot in the sisters' battle to protect their brother from an unsuitable match.

The manner in which Bingley spoke of the Meryton assembly was as Darcy expected--and certain to frustrate his sisters. "I have never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in my life. Everybody was most kind and attentive to me. I perceived no formality, no stiffness and I became acquainted with all in the room quickly. Miss Bennet is the most beautiful and pleasing woman of my acquaintance. She is an angel, and I plan to call on her on Monday."

Darcy chuckled inwardly at the predictability of his response and the image of one angel finding another. What would Bethany think of her aunt, the angelic Miss Bennet, who had captured the imagination of her angelic friend, Mr. Bingley?

The superior sisters allowed Miss Bennet was quite lovely but were concerned for her inferior familial ties. Miss Bingley said, "I heard that the Bennet family's near relations are almost entirely in trade, and the marriage of one daughter to Mr. Reynolds will definitely reduce their standing."

Mrs. Hurst stated, "I admire and like her and believe her to be a sweet girl; and I am of the opinion, despite her poor connections, we should not object to know more of her."

With only a slight slurring of his words, Darcy said, "Ah yes, Bingley, your Miss Bennet is very lovely, but I did notice she seemed reserved with regards to the admiration she received. But, you are correct; she definitely looks like an angel." Suddenly the mixture of horror and humour of the night liberally laced with strong spirits hit him, and he became positively giddy as he said, "I am certain Bethany would agree and think it prophetic that her angel is enamoured of another angel. As you know, I have promised to apologize to Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet. I will accompany you on Monday. I think I have had too much to drink, so I will be retiring for the night."

Darcy left the room and climbed the stairs to his room. He knew he would dream of her tonight.

Chapter 30 – A Good Woman is Even Harder to Find

Elizabeth felt the need to put off the inevitable meeting with Mr. Darcy. She feigned a headache on Sunday morning, and her family went to services without her. On Monday at breakfast, she told her father she was going to walk to Meryton to check on some books she had ordered. She figured once there, she could spend the day with Charlotte. Elizabeth suspected her father knew she was dissembling, but she thought this was a better plan than meeting Mr. Darcy without being prepared.

Mary and her father were both concerned and curious about what Elizabeth found frightening about Mr. Darcy's apology. When alone, they speculated it had something to do with her mysterious sojourn in Derbyshire. Mary told her father of Mr. Darcy's odd question about whether Mr. Collins had shared his observations of Lady Catherine's family with Elizabeth. She further elaborated that she had warned William not to tell Lizzy anything about the connection between the two, and also not to divulge to Lady Catherine that he had met Mr. Darcy in Hertfordshire. At first, he was hesitant to comply because he seemed to be in the habit of telling his patroness everything; but Mary was fixed in her opinion that her way was the best. It would not do for Lady Catherine to learn of the incivility of her son-in-law toward her sister from Mr. Collins. Surely he did not want to have to tell her the mortifying circumstances--and he would be forced to share that information if he was to disclose meeting him in Hertfordshire. Mr. Bennet was impressed with the powers of persuasion over her betrothed exhibited by his middle daughter.

For five years, Mr. Bennet had been unsuccessful in devising tactics to induce Lizzy to provide information about her loss of liveliness. She had steadfastly stuck to the story of helping the widow Thomas until she died, and alluded to the fact that her death had saddened her. Mr. Bennet knew she was not telling him the truth, but over the years, he was never able to convince her to confess the truth of the situation.

Mary and Mr. Bennet had often discussed the most pernicious gossip about a man being connected to Lizzy's inheritance. Both felt there was something she was hiding, but they both remembered the girl who had left shortly after her fifteenth birthday. That young woman was morally upright and much more interested in playing with children, reading, music and witty conversation than romance. She, like Mary, had wanted to delay coming out. Neither could imagine Elizabeth falling prey to a man and accepting remuneration, even if he was handsome and charming… not to mention that scenario required them to believe the Gardiners complicit in such a scheme. Mr. Darcy was handsome, but Mary told her father he was far from charming. She found him almost as ill at ease in society, as she had been until recently; and he was almost ten years her senior.

They had one other piece of evidence for the case they were building to support Mr. Darcy knowing something more about Lizzy's time in Derbyshire. The previous Easter, the Bennet family had welcomed John Reynolds' father and aunt into their home for a visit. Both Mr. Bennet and Mary had noticed that Lizzy and John's aunt acted in a most suspicious way. To a casual observer, it would appear they had never met, but Mary had seen them alone together conversing quietly twice. On one of the two occasions, Mary had even seen Mrs. Reynolds hug Elizabeth. She had seen them from an upstairs window, sitting on a bench in the little wilderness on one side of the lawn. Lizzy had dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and appeared to be crying, though Mary was too far away to be sure.

After the Reynolds left, Mary confided to her father what she had seen. Since that time, she and her father often speculated about their relationship. They found out from John that his aunt was the housekeeper at Pemberley, a great estate in Derbyshire. Mary told her father that William had told her the night of the assembly that Pemberley was the name of Mr. Darcy's estate. That piece of the puzzle provided by Mr. Collins, convinced them the day after the assembly--that this man, who had insulted all the Bennet daughters, and had particularly singled out Lizzy--knew something. They swore to find out what he knew.

Mr. Bingley had arranged for an introduction to Mr. Bennet after church on Sunday, and asked permission from the father of the angelic Miss Bennet to visit his family. He indicated that Mr. Darcy planned to accompany him the following morning, if it was convenient. Once the two sleuths had discussed this bit of intelligence, Mary suggested they implement a strategy to extract information from Mr. Darcy.

"Papa, you know I often disapprove of your verbal jousting, especially with new acquaintances, but I think our situation requires strong measures. I think you should lob a battery of Bennet's barbs on the unsuspecting Mr. Darcy, and I will watch his reaction. If we are lucky, you will cause him to become befuddled and perhaps spill something… and I do not mean his tea."

Mr. Bennet gave his daughter a sardonic smile. "Are you sure you are my daughter, Mary? How can I rest easy you are not an evil Doppelganger inhabiting her body? However, I must admit, whoever you are, your plan is diabolically clever."

Mary put her hands on her hips and glared at her father. "Papa, take back that my plan is diabolical. My plan is righteous. Mr. Darcy insulted our Lizzy, and I am sure he knows something about why she lost her joy. I am not afraid of him just because he is the son-in-law and nephew to William's patroness. I am not in awe of his great estate or his lovely, talented sister, for I have Longbourn and four most lovely and talented sisters. Maybe I do envy his beautiful children a bit, but my time will come soon." Mary's glare turned to glee. "Papa, let us be of one mind. When he arrives, we will put our plan in motion… the truth will out."

Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy arrived for their visit mid-morning, and Mr. Darcy asked for a conference with Mr. Bennet. The request was granted, and he was shown into Mr. Bennet's study. When he arrived, Mary was reading Rousseau's Confessions aloud to her father.

Mr. Bennet, despite his impaired eyesight, was quite sure Mr. Darcy looked disheartened when he saw Lizzy was not in the room. His eyes had surreptitiously darted around the study when he first entered. "Ah, Mr. Darcy, I was expecting you. All of my daughters who attended the assembly and Mr. Reynolds told me you planned to come to apologize to me and my daughter, Elizabeth. Unfortunately, my second-oldest daughter has sent herself on an errand. I think perhaps she might be avoiding you."

Darcy found it hard to imagine that Miss Elizabeth was particularly perturbed by his remarks. Despite her occasional haunted eyes, she seemed to be a resilient soul. If anything, he thought perhaps she might find it humorous that he had made such a fool of himself. Her reason for avoiding him must have to do with fear of exposure of their conspiracy. Surely she knew he would never do anything to hurt his daughter… or her. They had made a bargain, and he always honoured his obligations.

Miss Mary poured him some tea, and he settled into a comfortable chair close to Mr. Bennet's desk.

Mr. Bennet could smell fear coming from the man in front of him. "I am surprised that Elizabeth has been discomposed by the incident. She is quite used to being gossiped about, and it usually rolls off her like water off a duck's back. When and where exactly did you meet my daughter? Was it in Derbyshire?"

Darcy without thinking said, "No, in L… "He stopped mid sentence, checked himself and said, "Hmm… I have never met your daughter, sir."

The first thing that popped into Mary's mind at his fumbled response was that something was rotten in the state of Denmark. She chuckled to herself and seemed pleased she was in a Shakespeare mood this morning. Her father discreetly glared in her direction and Mary stopped her musings.

"I understand from my wife, you have a grand estate in Derbyshire? My daughter spent a number of months there five years ago. Are you sure you did not happen to meet? If you did, that might explain why she is avoiding you."

Mr. Darcy felt heat radiate upwards to his scalp and perspiration began. Would they notice the moisture as it soaked his neck cloth? He was not good at disguise, which was the foremost reason he hated it so much. He relied on his only skill in these situations… he made his face into a mask.

Mary noticed Mr. Darcy looked startled momentarily at Mr. Bennet's comment. He soon composed his face into nothingness, but Mary also noticed beads of sweat form on his forehead. She was pleased her father was unsettling this proud man.

Before he could think of a reply to Mr. Bennet's question. Miss Elizabeth's father was again on the attack. "Mr. Darcy, if as you say you do not know my daughter, am I to assume you make it a practice to insult strangers when you go into new country?"

Darcy knew he had to regain his balance and make his apology. The sooner he was out of this man's presence, the safer Miss Elizabeth and Bethany were from exposure. He had a responsibility to both. He forced himself to smile, "Mr. Bennet, you are justified in your humorous censure of my poor manners, but in my defence, I do not make a habit of insulting anybody; and I am doubly mortified that my slight was directed at someone I do not know." Mr. Darcy's eyes flickered with remorse. He thought to himself that the opposite was true. He was, in fact, doubly mortified because he insulted the woman who populated his dreams. At that moment, he needed to find her. He could never tell her he dreamed of her, but perhaps he could assure her he did not find her less than tolerable. "I also went along with another's remark diminishing the beauty of the rest of your daughters. For that I am most heartily sorry as well. My only excuse is that I am very uncomfortable in social situations, and I was missing my children and my sister. Your daughters are in fact quite deserving of their reputation as the most beautiful in the neighbourhood."

"You are correct, Mr. Darcy. My daughters are each uniquely beautiful. They do all share beautiful hair and beautiful eyes, but beyond that, they each have their own special qualities." At that statement, even with his poor vision, he could have sworn that Mr. Darcy looked as though he was remembering something. "And your wife, Mr. Darcy… what of your wife?"

"I lost her almost four years ago when my son, Lewis, was born."

"You said children. How many more do you have?"

"I have a daughter, Bethany, who is one year older than my son."

"What are they like? Why did you not bring them with you?"

"My sister recently suffered a disappointment, and my daughter wanted to try to cheer her. She felt I was a hindrance to my sister's disposition improving. Bethany is keeping her aunt occupied by having her teach her to play the pianoforte and plan her birthday party. We are having a great celebration, as she will turn five on the 10th of December."

"That is my Lizzy's birthday; although she will most assuredly, not allow us to have any celebration. Ever since she returned from Derbyshire, she eschews all fuss for her birthday. Sometimes she acts as though it is the saddest day of the year. Personally, I do not understand her reluctance. She is still a bit young to be concerned about being old; and she cannot be afraid of the old maid epithet, since she herself declares to anyone who will listen that she will never marry. She is but turning one and twenty this year."

Mr. Darcy momentarily looked shocked at this revelation. He had no idea that it had been her birthday the day Bethany was born. He needed to recover from this unexpected shock. He decided to distract Mr. Bennet from his probing by describing his children. "Lewis looks a great deal like me. He is a very happy little boy, who is always laughing. He even laughs when he falls down. He has only recently begun speaking with any skill. For more than a year, only his sister could understand him, and she did all his speaking for him. Bethany is the opposite; she said her first words before she was one, and she has been speaking full sentences since she was two. She reads and speaks both English and French, and she is developing into a skilled chess player and is very competitive and likes to win. She looks more like her mother than me." Darcy was pleased he was able to say the last without guilt registering on his face. He was anxious to see Miss Elizabeth, since he was sure Bethany resembled her a great deal. He struggled to keep the annoyance at her absence from registering.

"Your daughter reminds me of Lizzy at her age. She also spoke and read French and English, and I taught her to play chess at four. She has developed into a formidable opponent. She is particularly adept at not letting her me know until she moves what her strategy is. Mr. Bennet paused in his torture and sipped his tea. He had one more gambit to put into play in his verbal chess game with Mr. Darcy. "I was very pleased last Easter to meet your housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds. She also said she did not know my daughter but seemed to bond with her very rapidly."

Darcy's mouth fell open, and he was at a loss how to recover from this latest foray by Mr. Bennet. He stared at his daughter's grandfather, and hoped she would not be able to unsettle him quite so easily as she matured. Since her birth, he had seen nothing of the Earl or Edmund in Bethany, but ten minutes in this man's company, and he could see much that his daughter had inherited.

As Bethany said during their conference, he needed to remain focused. He was convinced Mr. Bennet suspected something, but it did appear he was only on a fact-gathering mission. If he had hard evidence, he was quite sure he would accuse him of something. He had certainly provided evidence of his guilty involvement in something by not being able to regulate his expressions, but luckily he had not divulged any substance of the conspiracy.

Darcy also took a sip of his tea and thought of a way to redirect their conversation. "So how are you finding Rousseau's Confessions?"

Mr. Bennet studied the man in front of him, and deciding he was not going to extract a confession, ultimately took pity on him. He decided to cease Bennet's barrage. "I am finding it quite intriguing. He certainly is most honest and does not seem to feel the necessity to hide his failings. Mary is reading it to me because Elizabeth became disenchanted with Rousseau after reading of his placing all five of his illegitimate children in orphanages. She said that his action was practically a death sentence for the children, and she found his actions unconscionable. It has significantly reduced her admiration for his theories."

Mr. Darcy was now completely thrown off balance. He was not expecting his question to hit quite so close to home. He tried to control his expression, but he knew that his face had once again betrayed his innermost thoughts.

Mr. Bennet, for his part, was amazed that this innocent discussion of Rousseau had somehow unnerved Mr. Darcy. He and Mary would have to analyze their conversation and try to make some sense of his reactions.

At that moment, John Reynolds knocked, entered and asked Mr. Darcy to ride with him, Mr. Bingley, Miss Bennet and Miss Catherine to tour Longbourn and the brickworks. Darcy was never so relieved to be out of anyone's presence in his life.

Darcy hoped they would happen upon Miss Elizabeth somewhere on the property, but he was not to be in luck. Miss Catherine told him shortly after their ride began that she was almost sure her sister had gone to visit Charlotte Forster and her children. Lydia had gone to the militia encampment for certain, and Elizabeth had most likely gone with her to visit as well. She suspected they were helping Charlotte plan a party at Lucas Lodge on Thursday in honour of Lizzy's goddaughter's birthday. Sir William was inviting the Netherfield party, and the merriment would include dancing and cards for the adults and games and activities for the children. Lizzy would be called upon to entertain the children.

Darcy was heartened that he would be able to see her on Thursday, if not before. He needed to tell her of her father's inquisition, but most of all he wanted to see how she had changed. Some of the things he had been told about her sadness and inability to sleep concerned him.

Both of Elizabeth's sisters proved to be quite different from his first impressions. Miss Catherine was a very happy young woman, and he was quite enamoured of her smile with the dimple that registered on only one side of her face, as well as her frequent giggle of delight. She resembled Miss Elizabeth the most of all her sisters. They had the same hair, but she was slightly taller, and her hazel eyes were beautiful, but did not shine with the joy and intelligence he had seen in her sister when they first met. The animation she displayed when she told him about her tiles was infectious. She and John were considering adding pottery at some point to what they produced. She thought the Perrault designs would be lovely for children's plates and cups.

He noticed she and John smiled at each other quite often, and they seemed not to care who saw them. Mr. Darcy was envious of their unblushing affection, and without thinking of the implication of his desire; he wished her sister would smile, or better yet grin at him when they met.

Miss Bennet was one of the more accomplished riders he had met. Her skill reminded him of his mother, and he decided to compliment her. "Miss Bennet you have an excellent seat… especially since you ride side saddle. How long have you been riding?"

She seemed a bit startled by his observation, but answered him with a smile. "My father put me on a pony at five. I started riding horses at eight and rode with a childhood friend almost daily until I was fourteen."

"Do all your sisters ride?"

Jane and Kitty looked at each other and laughed. Jane said, "No, Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth does not ride. She, who was always climbing trees and was not even afraid of snakes as a child, was petrified of horses. I think it was because she was so tiny, but for whatever reason, to this day, she steadfastly refuses to get on a horse. As sisters, we have been cruel and teased her mercilessly about her fear. Usually when we tease her, she becomes determined to prove us wrong, but not when it comes to horses."

Mr. Darcy was thinking of what strategy he would use if he ever had the chance to teach her to ride, when they arrived at the brickworks. He wondered what caused him to think he would have the opportunity.

He was impressed with the operation, and saw a large stockpile of bricks. John told him that the lot he was observing would be used in London for a group of houses being built near Bloomsbury Square. John decided to broach a subject he had hoped to discuss with Mr. Darcy. "I have heard from Catherine's uncle, Mr. Gardiner, that many among the ton are refacing their townhouses with brick. If you ever desire to do that, I would give you a very good price on the brick. Your word of mouth advertising would be worth the discount. I know from my aunt how invaluable your opinions are among your circle."

"Mr. Gardiner is correct, and I have indeed thought about doing so myself. I will consider your offer. Your aunt, I think has a higher opinion of me than I deserve."

Bingley chimed into the conversation. "Darcy, you are too modest. You know Mrs. Reynolds is correct. I am not the only person of your acquaintance who looks to you for guidance in matters of business. Mr. Reynolds, would you consider making me a similar inducement if I were to reface my townhouse?"

John Reynolds donned an enthusiastic grin. "I would indeed, Mr. Bingley. With two fine gentlemen like yourself talking of using my bricks at your fancy clubs, I am sure my business would increase."

Miss Catherine showed Mr. Darcy her Perrault tiles. He was very impressed, and was about to tell her of the murals on the nursery walls at Pemberley, when she volunteered that she had gotten the idea from a baby's room Lizzy had seen in Derbyshire. He realized he had almost made a disastrous mistake. He longed to be out of this morass of lies and deceit.

On the way back to the house, Darcy observed Miss Bennet and Bingley. They talked quietly as they rode. Miss Bennet was not reticent about conversing, but she seemed to hold back emotionally. She did not give any hint of a special regard for Mr. Bingley, but she was equally careful to not express complete indifference. That was what he noticed… she did not allow Mr. Bingley, or any who observed her, to know what her true feelings were. He wondered whether she felt anything for his friend or if she was just a dutiful daughter who did what her mother wanted.

They approached the manor from the opposite direction from their leaving. Mr. Darcy, for the first time, saw a room attached to the back of the house. It was a very utilitarian version of his solarium. It appeared to be connected to a cold room. It was filled with trees and flowers, and had what appeared to be a work area on one end.

Miss Bennet saw him looking at the room with interest and said, "My sister had that built for me. She received an inheritance five years ago, and this was one of the first things she did with the money. I had a disappointment and was angry with her for being away so long. I think she was trying to appease me." Jane both laughed at the memory and simultaneously displayed her own version of a troubled look. It was, of course, much more circumspect that her sister's, but seemed to originate in a similar place.

For the first time since meeting Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy noticed that she displayed excitement. Her eyes sparkled as she gave him and Bingley a tour of her workshop.

"I have been making fragrances since I was quite young. This conservatory allows me to have certain things I need year round. I grow jasmine, limes, lemons, and oranges. Their oils combined make an excellent base for many of my scents. Elizabeth also bought an apparatus to allow me to distil flowers to capture their essence. What was a diversion for many years has now become a business. I know it is considered unladylike by many to be involved in work, but this allows me to feel as though I am contributing to my family. Both Kitty and I are careful about the appearance of our activity. Mr. Reynolds directs my sister's business affairs, and my Uncle Gardiner has taken over the business of selling my fragrances. Neither of us is publicly associated with what we create, but I am most proud to have made fifty pounds last year."

Mr. Darcy thought about Bethany wanting to help Georgiana over her sadness, and was filled with remorse for the thoughts he had about her mother's desire for a solarium. He desperately needed to see and speak to her mother.

Posted on: 2010-12-04

Chapter 31 – Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

On Thursday evening, Miss Bingley came down the stairs to see Mr. Darcy pacing in the front hall. He had been restless to set out toward Lucas Lodge for at least the past hour. Charles had been sent upstairs twice to hurry his sisters along. Her brother needed little encouragement, as he was eagerly anticipating spending time with his angel. Where Darcy had been unhappy about attending the assembly, on this occasion he seemed anxious to arrive. Caroline wondered what exactly he was expecting from this party at the house of the tiresome Sir William Lucas. He had been acting strangely ever since he returned with her brother from visiting the Bennets. She caught him several times with a faraway look on his face. Caroline had cajoled her brother into telling her the particulars of their visit to Longbourn. According to Charles, he had been with Darcy the entire time except when he had a private conference with Mr. Bennet to make his apology. It did not appear that anything untoward had happened, so she was quite concerned as to what had brought on his insistent desire to attend this party. She was worried she might have a rival; but the only Bennet daughters he had seen were Miss Bennet, Miss Catherine and Miss Mary. Two were spoken for, and it was her brother who had an interest in Jane Bennet. Tonight she would watch him to see if he showed special interest in any of the company.

Darcy knew Miss Bingley was going to be a nuisance this evening. He did not want her around when he renewed his acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth. His desire was to be alone when he saw her, when he breathed in her lavender scent, but most of all, he wanted privacy when he talked with her. They had to work together to protect their secret from exposure.

When he arrived, he scanned the room for her. He saw her parents and her sisters, but he did not see her. His shoulders slumped with the fear she had decided once again to avoid him. Miss Catherine had said it was her goddaughter's birthday. She had to be present.

He walked about the room and still did not see her. Despite his growing desperation, he finally noticed that no young children were present. There were older children participating in the dancing, and even some playing cards, but he observed none under ten. Suddenly he saw an alcove off the far end of the room. Determining Miss Bingley was nowhere in sight, he walked toward the nook resolutely. This must be the place. As he got closer, he heard her voice first… she was laughing and telling someone named Betsy not to be afraid. "Betsy, Hop O' My Thumb is too clever by far to be defeated by the giant. Even though he is the smallest, rest assured, he will save his entire family."

Mr. Darcy saw her first out of the corner of his eye and felt a delicious tingle run through him. Hungering for more, he quickly turned to face her. There she was on a sofa with children on either side, a tiny one on her lap and several at her feet. She was wearing that same mustard coloured gown she had worn five years ago when they read together… the one he thought made her glow. Quietly he moved close enough to catch a hint of her lavender scent. His heart was pounding as he breathed her in. Her eyes were as they had been at the theatre in London. The flecks of gold shone, and pleasure radiated from them. He was elated… the joy he thought had been lost was back.

She had no vestiges of the childlike appearance from when they first met. She was very womanly, and to him, more beautiful than he had remembered, and he was instantly struck by how much Bethany was like her.

He watched and listened as she finished her story. She had a different voice for each of the characters, and the children looked at her with rapt attention. The tiny one on her lap buried her face in her bosom when her voice deepened to portray the giant. The scene was just as Bethany had described she and Lewis wanted in a mother.

She smiled at her audience at the end of her story, but if he was not mistaken, the next thing she did was grin at the sight of him from under lowered lashes. Without thinking, he walked up to her and said, "Miss Elizabeth, you are a truly talented story teller."

Elizabeth stopped grinning, looked around cautiously and frowned at him. The flecks of gold in her eyes had once again been extinguished. "I am sorry, sir, do I know you?"

Darcy realized his mistake and backed away from her. "Excuse me, Madame. I was told who you were, and quite forgot propriety."

They were hidden from view in the alcove, so she decided to take a chance. She whispered, "Meet me tomorrow morning at dawn at Oakham Mount. Anyone in the stables at Netherfield can direct you." With that, she turned and herded the gaggle of children to the refreshment table.

Miss Bingley saw Darcy an hour later, staring absentmindedly into the room. He did not seem to be focused on anyone in particular, but had a sort of silly grin on his face. "Mr. Darcy, what are you smiling about?"

"I was remembering a pair of fine eyes, and a particular joyful look in them that I had thought gone, but I am now of the opinion they might still have some life."

Mr. Darcy seemed so vague about his reverie that Miss Bingley decided not to probe him about the object of his admiration. She did, however, decide to be vigilant in observing him in the hopes she could determine to whom he was referring. A woman of her accomplishments would not be bested by some country nobody.

Darcy tied his horse to a bush at the base of the mount. He walked up the path carefully, as it was not yet dawn. As he approached his destination, he heard a dog growling. The sun was just peeping over the horizon as he reached the crest.

Because of Caliban, she was aware of his arrival and sat expectantly facing the path, the sunrise behind her. The first rays over the horizon created a halo around her head and caused her hair to blaze. He never seemed to see this woman that the effect of her did not awe, bewilder, annoy or mesmerize him, and this time his reaction was a mixture of all four. Dressed in shades of russet, amber and mauve, with her bonnet rested beside her on the blanket, he realized she was the improper young woman who had waved at him a fortnight ago. The massive dog that had been with her that day was resting on his hind legs beside her like a sentinel. Darcy was struck by how ugly he was.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Darcy. Would you like a mug of tea? It is still quite warm, and has honey and milk added." He nodded yes, and she poured tea from the jug for him. She motioned for him to sit down on the blanket at a respectable distance from her--the dog settled between them with his head in her lap. She stroked his neck and fondled his ears for a few seconds while she planned a strategy for her mission. "This animal is my dear protector. I named him Caliban because of his unfortunate looks."

The vision of Miss Elizabeth at the theatre watching The Tempest came to him. Darcy noticed that the flecks of light in her eyes he had seen briefly the night before were not present this morning. "The name is most appropriate."

"Mr. Darcy I am very sorry for your loss. I know it was almost four years ago, but even now I often think of her. Mrs. Reynolds wrote to tell me. Mrs. Hinton also sent a moving letter about both Mrs. Darcy's and Lady Hughes' deaths. They were the first mothers she ever lost, and to have them die at the same time was very distressing for her. Mrs. Reynolds communicated with me through my uncle. I thought of writing you in a similar fashion to offer my condolences, but decided it was not prudent to have any correspondence between us. It was not because I care greatly about society's rules of conduct though." She laughed as she noted, "You must be thinking I have no sense of propriety at all--inviting you to meet me here at dawn. Proper behaviour is often a luxury I cannot afford. For the past five years my life has been about hiding my disgrace, and I simply believed writing to you was not in either of our interest--or your daughter's or even your son's. It is important there be no association between us in anyone's mind. To this day, no one knows of our deception except the original participants in the plot."

"Thank you for your condolences. Your concern for hiding our connection is most valid. Your father and sister, Miss Mary, are obviously suspicious of an acquaintance between us; but you can rest assured, Miss Elizabeth, it would take more than your father's relentless inquisition to cause me to divulge our secret." He noticed she chuckled at his description of her father's interrogation… the interrogation she had forced him to face alone. He felt a familiar disapproval with her for finding humour in his discomfort, and that, combined with her previous statement about disregarding propriety, compelled him to retaliate by adding, "But, you are correct; I love my daughter and my son too much to jeopardize their happiness" as he made his reply, he emphasized my daughter.

She kept her face composed at his attempt to wound her. Caliban felt her tense and raised his head to bare his teeth and look in Darcy's direction. Inwardly Elizabeth agonized because his attitude made her suspicious that Mrs. Darcy had not confessed. Still, she was determined to remain focused on what she needed to accomplish. "Mr. Darcy, I understand I became the talk of the assembly because of a remark you made to Miss Bingley. I have heard from practically everyone in my family of your desire to right that incivility. I appreciate your concern, but I do not think an apology is necessary. You were the target of rude talk as improper as any indulged in by you and Miss Bingley, and I am certain my mother and my aunt were two of the worst offenders. Let us chalk up the incident to the unfortunate propensity of humans to indulge in gossip for amusement. It is, I am sure, one of the main reasons both of us shun company whenever possible, and not at all because either of our appearances is less than tolerable."

Darcy smiled at her humour and acknowledged her ability to deflect his hurtful remark with a carefully placed jab. Her sweetness in the face of his petulance was already causing him regret. "I see you are still a very witty young woman, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth saw his dimples and remembered just how tolerable his appearance could be. She was momentarily disconcerted and stared off across the meadow. As usual, Caliban registered his awareness of her anguish. This time she was the recipient of his stare. His reaction allowed her to time to plan how to broach her main topic. Finally, after several seconds, she turned and looked at Mr. Darcy forthrightly and said, "We have a delicate situation to contend with now that we are in the same neighbourhood. I know you hate disguise, but we must pretend we have never met."

Elizabeth felt she should explain more about the fear she had lived with since leaving Derbyshire. "I was more concerned about your approaching me last night at Lucas Lodge without a proper introduction than I was with your slight at the assembly. Again, it is not because I care about propriety, but because no one in Hertfordshire knows anything about what happened all those years ago." Lizzy chuckled and said, "Of course they know something happened because I came back an 'heiress,' but they do not have any inkling I had a child. My family and friends observed a change in me, and Mr. Darcy no matter how hard I try; I cannot recapture my former lively character. My sister, Jane, accuses me of being secretive. My friends tell me I have a hint of sadness about me that was never there before. Everyone says I have lost my joy, and my sisters complain I do not make them laugh as much anymore. My father wonders why I cringe when he kisses me. He and my sister Mary are currently very curious about you because you are from Derbyshire."

"Miss Elizabeth, I thought you close to your father. Why do you cringe?"

"Because he smells of port and tobacco, the way your cousin did. I do not have the heart to ask him to give up two of his favourite vices just to appease my nonsensical anxiety. He has already been forced to give up reading because of his diminishing sight."

"Your sister, Miss Mary, said you do not sleep. Is that why you are often at Oakham Mount early in the morning?"

"Yes, Mr. Darcy, my inability to sleep is just another example of my transformed character. But I did not bring you here to commiserate with my troubles. Can we agree that we will act as though we do not know each other?"

You are right, Miss Elizabeth, that is the prudent plan. I promise I will endeavour not to make another mistake like last night. My only excuse is that you, more than any other person I have ever met, you have the ability to bewilder me--in your presence I always seem to do things totally against my nature." This time he was pleased his words made her laugh.

"I was not aware I had that power over you. What was it I did last night that caused you to become so befuddled?"

"It was the way you were telling the story to the children. I recently had a conversation with… eh an acquaintance… she described a scene very similar to the one you presented last night. I had a strong sense of déjà vu that was disorienting." Mr. Darcy thought how ridiculous to call his daughter an acquaintance, but he knew there was no way under the circumstances he could truthfully reveal the facts of his recollection.

"Mr. Darcy, I must get back for breakfast and to read to my father. The longer we tarry here, the more possibility someone will see us--and then the gossip will truly begin."

"You are right, Miss Elizabeth. We must part, because unlike you, I am very concerned about propriety, and I also share your need to ensure we end the speculation about the two of us having a prior acquaintance."

This time Mr. Darcy's words reminded her of his disapproval during their final discussion. Again, she was concerned that he continued to consider her wanton and mercenary. She stifled a sigh and stroked Caliban's ear's pre-emptively to keep him from reacting to her discomfort. It was time to end this conference.

Darcy felt the need to make amends for his earlier slight. "Before we part, would you like me to tell you anything about our daughter? She is a topic I always love to discuss."

Elizabeth looked positively horrified by his words, and more harshly than necessary, she replied. "No, no, please no. I think it best I know nothing." This time Caliban cocked his one good ear before he snarled in protest.

Darcy once again saw tears held back by a will of iron. He desperately wanted to comfort her but knew neither Elizabeth nor Caliban would appreciate his efforts. He remained silent while she composed herself.

With a forced smile, she said, "Goodbye Mr. Darcy. With luck, we will only see each other rarely while you are at Netherfield." She stood up, put her bonnet on and began to pack the tea things into her basket. He stood, and she folded the blanket and placed it in the basket. She gave him her familiar lopsided grin and said, "It is a beautiful day, you should give that magnificent horse of yours a gallop, and then perhaps you could achieve a bit of joy by shooting some poor defenceless birds." With that she turned, and she and Caliban began to descend the hill.

His unexpressed wish was quite the opposite of hers… he did want to see her. It was several minutes before he started his descent.

Posted on: 2010-12-08

Chapter 32 – Blessed Be the Tie that Binds

Elizabeth was determined to stay out of the path of Mr. Darcy. He evoked both memories and emotions she felt best left unexplored. Every morning she left immediately after her time with her father, just in case the men from Netherfield decided to call again. They did not, but her apprehension did not diminish. By Sunday, the spectre of meeting him at services sparked a new round of fear.. Appearances would not allow her to miss two weeks in a row, so her plan was to watch Mr. Darcy from a distance. As soon as he became distracted while speaking with the vicar, she would depart--walking in the direction of Longbourn.

On Monday, Jane Bennet received a note from Netherfield while the family was gathered for breakfast. The footman who delivered the message indicated he had been instructed to wait for an answer.

Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she made no attempt to contain her excitement, eagerly questioning her daughter as she read the note.

"Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say?"

"Mama, it is not from a he. It would be improper for Mr. Bingley to send me a note. It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, but then she acquiesced to her mother's insistence and read the note aloud.

My dear Friend, you must take pity on Louisa and me. We shall be in danger of hating one another for the rest of our lives if you do not come today. We always quarrel after a day with no others to distract us in our conversation. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.

Yours ever, Caroline Bingley

"Dining out," said Mrs. Bennet; "that is very unlucky."

"Can I have the carriage?" asked Jane.

Mrs. Bennet studied the situation for a few seconds before she said with determination, "No, my dear, you had better go on horseback. It seems likely to rain; and then you will be forced to stay the night."

If Elizabeth had not been distracted with her own anguished thoughts about the gentlemen dining with the officers, she would have confronted her mother for her ridiculous ploy. She had intended to spend the afternoon with Charlotte and Betsy, and the proximity of Mr. Darcy meant she would have to revise her plans. His presence in the neighbourhood was causing her to be quite out of sorts--not to mention those puzzling feelings of longing he had stirred. Why did he have to come to Hertfordshire? She was beginning to fear he might have done it on purpose. If so, how could he have found out where she was? Everything, including John's appointment, had gone through her uncle. Mrs. Reynolds had assured her he knew nothing about where her nephew was working. All Elizabeth had ever wanted of this man--once the money was exchanged--was his good opinion, but she had wanted it from afar. He must realize her sisters were still in jeopardy if her secret was exposed--and what of his daughter.

With all her musings, Elizabeth did not realize that Jane set out to Netherfield on horseback… and did indeed get caught in a rainstorm. As her mother had schemed, she was forced to stay at Netherfield that night.

The next morning at breakfast, Mrs. Bennet was quite proud she had been successful in her quest to have Jane come in contact with one particular gentleman. She kept exclaiming, "This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!"

Mary appeared displeased with her mother's reasoning and said, "Mama, you cannot take credit for making it rain. We all know who is responsible, and the Lord definitely did not do so in order to allow Jane to spend time with Mr. Bingley.

A second note came from Netherfield--this time for Elizabeth.

My dearest Lizzy, I find myself very unwell this morning. I became thoroughly soaked with the downpour yesterday. Mr. Bingley and his sisters will not hear of my returning home until I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones. Please alert the rest of my family so they do not become alarmed if they should hear of his having been to see me. I do not mean to concern you... excepting a sore throat and a headache, there is not much the matter with me.

Your loving sister, Jane

"Well, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note aloud, "If your daughter should have a dangerous illness… if she should die, it will be a comfort to know that it was in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders."

"Oh! I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do not die of a trifling cold."

Her entire family looked stricken by her remark, and said in unison, "What about Tom?"

Mrs. Bennet looked momentarily contrite, but soon was back to feeling pleased with the success of her scheme.

Elizabeth was very anxious for her sister, and she quickly became determined to go to her. She knew the carriage was not available, and as she was no horsewoman; she decided walking was her only alternative.

"How can you be so uncaring toward your sister?" cried her mother, "You will not be fit to be seen when you get there. Mr. Bingley and his sisters will most certainly lose their good opinion of Jane when they see you covered in mud."

"I shall be very fit to see Jane. That is what is most important. The distance is nothing when one has such a motive as sisterly love to feel better. Besides, it is only three miles each way. I often cover that much distance and will be home by dinner."

Lydia set out to walk with Elizabeth as far as Meryton, and Maria Lucas soon joined the duo. In Meryton they parted; Maria and Lydia went on to visit with Charlotte in the lodgings provided for officers' families. As she waved goodbye, Elizabeth wished she could avoid Mr. Darcy and go with them. Her preference was most assuredly to spend time with her friend and her children and not that proud man whose disapproval of her seemed to be always just below the surface. Of course there were those times when he smiled... but she could not worry about either memory... Jane needed her.

The fields were muddy, but Lizzy crossed them at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatience. Her apprehension about spending time with Mr. Darcy in the company of others grew as she neared her destination. She resolved the most prudent course was to spend the entire day with Jane. With weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise, she arrived at Netherfield.

Elizabeth was shown into the breakfast parlour. Everyone but her sister was having a late meal. As she expected, Mr. Bingley's sisters looked askance at her appearance. They seemed to be silently criticizing her audacity to walk three miles in such dirty weather alone. Despite their looks of disapproval, their brother received her very cordially. Mr. Bingley displayed sincere politeness and kindness, and his sisters were moved to extend courtesy to their visitor by the force of his encouragement. Mr. Darcy said very little, but stared at her intently the way she remembered from past interactions, and Mr. Hurst said nothing at all as he seemed to be concentrating on his food.

Mr. Darcy was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and concern that coming so far by herself would have a negative impact on her desire to keep gossip at bay. He had a momentary flash of memory, and looked at her shoes. She was indeed wearing boots, and not slippers, but he could not stifle a fleeting look of discomfort with the memory.

Elizabeth noticed Mr. Darcy's disapproval and in the interest of avoiding his severe stare, she determined to remove herself from his presence. She inquired after her sister, and was told she had not slept well and was feverish. Elizabeth asked to be taken to her immediately.

Jane would never have demanded in her note that Elizabeth come, because she would not want to cause alarm or inconvenience. She had refrained from expressing her longing for a visit and the comfort it would give, but Elizabeth knew her sister well enough to know it was desired. Though Jane had never totally forgiven Lizzy for not disclosing the secrets of her lost year, she had often been there to comfort her when she awoke with nightmares. Elizabeth always reciprocated by being as caring and loving a sister as possible.

Jane was delighted at Lizzy's entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation, and could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude. Elizabeth lay beside her and rubbed her back. After her sister fell asleep, Elizabeth sat beside her and read rather than joining her host and hostess and their guests.

Mr. Jones, the apothecary, came, and after examining his patient, said, as Elizabeth had already guessed, that she had caught a violent cold. Privately, he assured Elizabeth that her lungs seemed clear unlike the way Master Trent's had been. He advised Elizabeth to encourage rest and nourishment and told Jane she must stay in bed. As her feverish symptoms had increased and her head ached acutely, she put up no resistance.

Elizabeth stayed by her sister's bed until the clock struck three when she felt proper behaviour dictated she must go. Miss Bingley, who had come to sit with her sister, offered her the carriage. Lizzy was set to accept, but Jane became disheartened at the idea of parting with her. Her despondency obligated Miss Bingley to extend an invitation to Elizabeth to stay at Netherfield. Despite her anxiety about Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth knew it was best for her sister. A servant was dispatched to Longbourn to inform her family of her stay and bring back some clothes.

Elizabeth was informed to be ready for dinner at half-past six. When she arrived, all were worried for Miss Bennet's health, but Mr. Bingley displayed the most concern. In answer to his sincere solicitude, she informed him Jane had not improved.

Mr. Bingley was the only one of the party whom she believed truly felt anxiety for her sister. His worry was evident, and his kind words to Elizabeth were most pleasing and relieved her fear of being perceived an intruder. She was gratified Mr. Darcy was engrossed with Miss Bingley, even though she noticed he only half listened to her. Elizabeth observed him cautiously glance at her periodically as he often had at Pemberley. Her hope was that it was too little attention for Miss Bingley to notice.

Darcy could not stop thinking about Miss Elizabeth. He was careful to mask his countenance so no one could discern his thoughts. After their discussion on Oakham Mount and his day spent with her family, he had returned to sketching her character. Every time he learned something about her, it contradicted something he thought he already knew.

He had been convinced she was without proper feelings when he observed her cold, calculating demeanour during her negotiations to extract money. Yet, her worry for Miss Bennet was obviously genuine and most appealing. He could not imagine either of Bingley's sisters caring for each other or their brother as generously. He and Georgiana had always been very concerned with each other's welfare, but the age difference made it different than care for a sibling so close in age--a relationship of equals. He knew one example that rivalled Miss Elizabeth's care. The image of Bethany cuddling her brother when he was ill or insisting she had to kiss each of his scrapes flashed through his mind. He also remembered how callous Edmund had been the one time Richard had been injured. Richard came home to recuperate at a time when Edmund was pursuing a young widow. He barely spent ten minutes with Richard before he was off to catch his prey. Hopefully Bethany was only like her mother in good ways, and would not turn out to be unprincipled toward those outside her family.

When dinner was over, Elizabeth returned to Jane. As soon as she was out of the room, Miss Bingley began abusing her. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence. She had no conversation, no style, no taste, and no beauty. Caroline spent a great deal of time discussing how out of date her clothes were, and how Elizabeth seemed to have no sense of fashion at all.

Mrs. Hurst added her agreement by observing with laughter, "She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. She looked positively wild this morning."

"She did indeed, Louisa. I could barely keep the distaste I felt for her appearance from my countenance. Why must she be scampering about the country? You would think her sister was in danger of dying."

"Yes, and her petticoat… I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud… I am absolutely certain."

"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," said Bingley; "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning; her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice. I cannot comment on whether her gowns are outdated, but she seems to have a good sense of what colours enhance her appearance. The gold frock she wore at the party at Lucas Lodge made her appear to glow in the candlelight, and the russet of her pelisse this morning enhanced her complexion"

Miss Bingley wrinkled her nose at her brother's remarks. "Charles, I never knew you were so aware of women's fashion. Mr. Darcy, I am sure you noticed the mud on her petticoat, and I am inclined to think you would not wish to see your sister or your daughter make such an exhibition."

Mrs. Hurst reinforced her sister's disapproval. "Yes, she displayed a lack of concern for appearance to walk three or four miles in mud, and quite alone! To me, she seems to show a most conceited indifference to decorum."

"It shows affection for her sister that is very pleasing," said Bingley.

Mr. Darcy silently agreed with Charles. Miss Elizabeth definitely looked remarkably well in her clothes, and they did seem to enhance her complexion--and her figure. He knew Miss Bingley wanted him to affirm her opinions, so he decided to answer her question in a diplomatic way. He was still remorseful for allowing her to goad him into saying she was less than tolerable the night of the assembly.

"I did indeed notice, and I cannot imagine my sister walking about and ending up with her petticoat six inches deep in mud. However, my daughter is another matter. She might grow out of her inclinations, but right now it is all I can do to keep her out of trees. Both Georgiana and Bethany are very fond of their brothers, and I know they would go to great lengths to help if Lew or I was ill. The difference is that Georgiana would take a carriage, and Bethany would definitely walk through mud if she thought it would bring her to her brother more quickly."

Miss Bingley was not going to let the topic drop despite what Darcy said. She continued the discussion, saying, "Jane Bennet is a sweet girl, and I wish her well settled--but with such a father and mother and such low connections… I am afraid there is no chance of it."

Mrs. Hurst was determined to bolster her sister's argument. "Charles, I think I have heard you say that their uncle is the attorney you dealt with in Meryton."

Miss Bingley added to her sister's information. "Yes, and they have another who is in trade and lives somewhere near Cheapside."

"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," cried Bingley, "it would not make them any less agreeable."

Darcy was inwardly amused at the superior sisters' disparaging remarks, but it would not do to let them know he had knowledge that made her observations ridiculous--so he donned an air of indifference.

Miss Bingley barely attempted to disguise her efforts to persuade Charles that Jane Bennet was not good enough for him. Darcy also felt concern for Bingley, but not because Miss Bennet was beneath him. Her father was a gentleman, and thus a good connection for Bingley. The only difference between Bingley and Mr. Gardiner was a generation. Darcy was convinced from his dealings with their uncle that he would soon amass a fortune comparable to that of Bingley's father. Darcy's fear was that they were a family of fortune hunters who would ensnare Charles, and he would have to endure a loveless marriage.

It was obvious that Bingley was, once again, well on his way to thinking he loved Miss Bennet. His observations of Miss Bennet, however, caused him to believe she was indifferent to his friend. Her mask of quiet serenity did not exhibit strong affection. And what was he to make of her sister? Miss Elizabeth was rumoured not to be interested in marrying at all. Was it only because she had succeeded in getting twenty-six thousand pounds from him? Miss Catherine obviously had great affection for Mr. Reynolds, and he could even discern warmth between Miss Mary and Mr. Collins.

His conscience was pricked with the knowledge he had settled for a loveless marriage that had not turned out so badly. Suddenly, he wished he was at Pemberley with Bethany, Lewis and Georgiana. But, the niggling doubt that he had missed something important when he settled for a marriage of convenience replaced his longing for those near and dear to him. At twenty-eight, despite the two children that were the result, he was no longer sure he should have dispensed with the odious task of finding deep attachment and joy. Sometimes love could be, without warning, there in front of you, shining in the dark.

Miss Bingley's goal was to further besmirch the Bennets. She continued her innuendos; "I have heard more about Miss Eliza's inheritance from my maid. It is a complete mystery from whom she inherited the fortune, and it is whispered among the servants that there could have been a man involved. She has declared she has no intention of ever marrying, but instead has established dowries for her sisters. No one seems to know the exact amounts, but even with dowries, I doubt that any man of consequence would marry young women with such vulgar relations--and the stench of lurid rumours about their sister."

To this speech, Bingley made no answer; but Mrs. Hurst gave it her hearty assent, and she and her sister indulged in laughter for some time at the Bennet sisters' circumstances.

Darcy knew he had to find a way to end this conversation, given the promise he made to Miss Elizabeth during their conversation at Oakham Mount. "You are right, Miss Bingley, their relations must materially lessen their chance of marrying men from the highest circles." He thought to himself that the same was true of Miss Bingley.

Caroline felt vindicated that Darcy seemed to agree with her. She hoped Charles would listen to his friend and dampen his ardour and affections for Miss Bennet.

Elizabeth spent the night in her sister's room. In the morning, she felt it prudent that her mother visit Jane, form her own opinion of her health, and determine whether it was advisable for her to leave. She sent a note to Longbourn, and shortly after breakfast, Mrs. Bennet and her other three daughters arrived at Netherfield to assess the situation.

Had she found her daughter in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been miserable. However, she was soon satisfied that her illness was not alarming and returned to plotting to accomplish her greatest wish for Jane. She spoke of the need for her daughter to gain her health leisurely, and stay at Netherfield. Elizabeth knew if they were alone she would add--in the proximity of Mr. Bingley. The patient's pleas to be allowed to return to Longbourn were not listened to by her mother. Mr. Jones, who arrived as they were arguing ,concurred with Mrs. Bennet's judgement. After it was decided she would stay, her mother and sisters came to pay their respects to Mr. and Miss Bingley for the care they were extending to Jane. Bingley met them with hopes that Miss Bennet was not worse than expected.

"She is a great deal too ill to return home. Mr Jones says we must not think of moving her." Mrs. Bennet paused and looked hopeful. "We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."

"You cannot possibly think of taking her home!" cried Bingley. "My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal."

Miss Bingley was civil as she agreed to her brother's wishes, but her face displayed no warmth for the accommodation.

Mrs. Bennet smiled broadly at having her request agreed to by her daughter's host and hostess. "I am sure, if it was not for such good friends, I do not know what would become of my Jane. Mr. Jones confirms she is very ill, and suffers immensely, but with great patience. That has always been her way. She has the sweetest disposition. None of my other daughters can compare to her. Lizzy and Mary in particular can be quite demanding. Their father has had too much influence over them. They have both spent hours reading to him and helping him with the accounts, and he in turn has encouraged them to be vocal about their concerns. I often tell my other girls they are nothing in disposition and beauty to Jane."

Mary and Elizabeth rolled their eyes at each other, but did not contradict their mother. Neither felt it important that their characters be praised in the present company. Elizabeth chuckled silently with the thought that she was quite sure Mr. Darcy already thought her "demanding," and even when he had seemed to appreciate her, "sweet" was probably not a word he would have applied to her.

Mrs. Bennet continued with her attempt at ingratiating herself to Mr. Bingley. "You have a lovely room here, Mr. Bingley. I do not know a place in this country that is as fine as Netherfield. Sir Walter Elliot is a close friend of our family and Mr. Bennet's best friend from childhood. My husband should have been the one who welcomed you to the neighbourhood and not Sir William." Mrs. Bennet's tone became conspiratorial and her daughters knew she was about to disclose something best left unsaid. "Unfortunately, he suffers from a lack of vision with regards his daughters' future." Her voice returned to her normal chattiness. "Over the years, Mr. Bennet and I and our children have spent wonderful times in this house. I hope, you will not think of abandoning it soon."

Bingley replied happily, "Mr. Darcy would say that whatever I do is done in a hurry, and therefore, if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I promise you I am quite content here."

Elizabeth wanted to distract her mother from her present subject. She grinned at Mr. Bingley as she said, "That is exactly what I should have supposed of you."

Mr. Bingley laughed back at her. "You begin to comprehend me, do you?"

"I do. Your motives and wants are easy to discern."

"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through, I am afraid, is pitiful."

"Please do not take offense. It does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more pleasing than such a one as yours. You do not disguise your feelings, and I am sure I am not the only one who finds that characteristic in you appealing." With this remark, Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy.

"I did not know before," continued Bingley, "that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study."

"Yes, but intricate characters can be both the most amusing and the most challenging. They keep one occupied much longer, and that is an advantage. However, poor estimation is a possibility, and the results can be disastrous. Some are not at all what they appear to be."

Mr. Darcy was eager to participate in this discussion and added, "The country can supply but few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society."

"You are correct that the characters in town often present a greater challenge… at least that was the case for me when I was there. I failed miserably on several occasions when evaluating new acquaintances. Since I have been back in the country, I have found that people themselves alter so much, that there is always something new to be observed and enjoyed."

"Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by Mr. Darcy's manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. "My daughter is quite correct, sir. I assure you there is quite as much going on in the country as in town."

Everybody was surprised at her vehemence. Darcy was still trying to understand Miss Elizabeth's subtle reference to acquaintances she met in town when he realized Mrs. Bennet was displeased with what he had said. He looked at both mother and daughter for a moment, and then turned silently away. It was obvious to Elizabeth he was sorry he had contributed to the conversation, and she felt responsible for his discomfort.

Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over Mr. Darcy, continued her triumph. "I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?"

"When I am in the country," he replied, "I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town, it is pretty much the same. They each have their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."

"Mr. Bingley, that is because you have such an amiable disposition. Mrs. Bennet looked toward Mr. Darcy as she continued, "But that gentleman, seemed to think the country was nothing at all."

Elizabeth was embarrassed by her mother's remark. She blushed at the realization that she had initiated the topic that drew Mr. Darcy into the conversation. "Indeed, Mama, you do not understand. You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there were not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which you must acknowledge to be true."

Mr. Darcy thought Miss Elizabeth quite lovely when she blushed, and he was pleased she defended him against her mother's rancour. He smiled fleetingly in her direction.

Elizabeth forgot her apprehension and was pleased to see his dimples but tried hard not to acknowledge them. She kept her eyes on her mother, but the corners of her mouth involuntarily responded for a few seconds. Miss Bingley saw the exchange between the two. She wondered whether these were the fine eyes that had been the source of his reverie, and debated whether she should feel threatened. Miss Eliza had made it clear she had no intention of marrying. She was not sure she should consider her a rival or just an annoying diversion.

Mrs. Bennet was oblivious to the interaction between Mr. Darcy and her self-professed spinster daughter. She blustered on in her attempt to put Mr. Darcy in his place. "Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four and twenty families."

Nothing but concern for Elizabeth, kept Bingley's countenance in check. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eyes towards Mr. Darcy with a very mocking smile. Maybe now he would be less inclined to marvel at Miss Eliza's eyes when confronted with her mother's vulgarity.

Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's thoughts, now asked whether Charlotte had come to visit her.

"Yes, but she only stopped briefly to see how Jane was on her way to Lucas Lodge. She was to help her mother with the mince-pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do that kind of work; my daughters were brought up differently. Charlotte and her sister, Maria, have always been needed to help with tasks around the house, but I assure you, they are a very good sort of girls, and particular friends to my daughters. It is a pity Charlotte has made a marriage that does not allow her to settle into her own house. She and her children must traipse around the country like gypsies after the colonel."

"She seems a very happy woman," said Bingley.

Lydia, who had not spoken before, boldly contradicted her mother as well. "Oh Mama, she is indeed a happy woman. I think Charlotte has made a wonderful match, and I can only hope I am as lucky."

"Oh, my, yes, she seems happy, and her children are lovely; but she did have to settle for the life of a soldier's wife because she is plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, one does not often see anybody more handsome than my Jane. It is what everybody says. When she was only seventeen, an heir to a Baronetcy was very much in love with her. I was sure he would make her an offer before he left the neighbourhood. However, he did not… perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses for her, and very pretty they were."

Elizabeth was unsure what mortified her more--that her mother had made unkind remarks about Charlotte or exposing the details of her sister's disappointment to Mr. Bingley. Mrs Bennet seemed to assume disclosing Jane's near proposal would make her daughter appear desired, but to Elizabeth, it called attention to the fact she had been jilted. She decided to inject humour into the conversation to see if she could divert attention from her sister. She said with grinning impertinence, "And so ended his affection. There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!"

Darcy smirked in her direction and decided to aid her cause. "I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love."

Elizabeth captured his eyes with gratitude as she responded. "I believe Shakespeare said it was music. But they both are only adept at securing hearts if the love is stout and healthy. Everything nourishes what is strong already." Her eyes twinkled for him alone as she added. "But if it be only a slight sort of attraction, I am convinced that one good sonnet or even a beautiful love song will starve it entirely away."

Darcy enjoyed her rejoinder. He did not direct his appreciation at Elizabeth, but instead smiled out the window. He wanted to laugh, but knew it would call unwanted attention to the two of them, and probably provoke more offence from her mother.

Elizabeth was still afraid Mrs Bennet would expose herself again. She sighed softly with relief when her mother began thanking her new neighbour for his kindness to Jane, and made a point of apologizing for troubling him with Lizzy as well. Mr. Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and his look of slight reproach forced Miss Bingley to be courteous also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. Lydia and Kitty had been whispering to each other during much of the visit, and the result of it was, that Lydia reminded Mr. Bingley that she had heard from Maria Lucas that he had promised Sir William to host a ball at Netherfield.

She told him with a broad smile on her face," It would be the most shameful thing in the whole wide world if you do not keep your promise."

Mr. Bingley returned her smile with one equally as broad. "I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my word; and when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill."

Lydia said with enthusiasm, "Oh! Yes, it would be much better to wait until Jane is well, and by that time, most likely, Captain Carter will have returned to Meryton. I have heard he is returning with several new officers." Lydia got quite excited as she related her next idea. "I believe once you have given your ball, Maria and I shall be able to persuade Colonel Forster and Charlotte that it would be a shame if they do not give one as well before the militia decamps."

Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then left, and Elizabeth returned instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations' behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy could not be prevailed upon to join in their censure of them. The former was thinking about his angel, and the latter was pondering the differences and similarities between mothers and daughters.