Section I, Next Section
Chapter One
"For what to we live for, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?"
~Mr. Bennet, Pride and Prejudice, Vol. II, Chp. 15
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a married man in possession of a good wife, must be reluctant to share her company with anybody else.
This phenomenon applies most particularly to his in-laws, and those of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy were eccentric and difficult to endure to say the least. But it is a sad inevitability for every newly-wed that contact with the outside world soon becomes necessary, and that the acknowledgment of others beside the beloved object cannot be put off indefinitely.
It was with a kind letter of invitation from his sister-in-law, Mrs. Bingley, whose only real fault in Darcy's mind was an inferiority to her sister, that Darcy knew the time of blissful seclusion had run its course, and that it was once more time to enter the familial fray.
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire
January 15thMy very dear Lizzy,
My dear Bingley and I are once more settled comfortably at Netherfield, with fond memories of the pleasant three weeks we spent at Pemberley for Christmas. I could not imagine a better way to celebrate this first Christmas, and the addition of my dear Aunt and Uncle Gardiner to the party only increased my happiness. How beautiful your home is! I only wish it was not quite so far!
Everything in Hertfordshire remains much as you left it, though changes at Longbourn have followed naturally as a result of last autumn's happy events. My mother has been very solicitous, and visits almost every day to ensure that I am not finding my new position as Netherfield's mistress too overwhelming, and honors me with such advise as I may have use for in the future. She often takes tea with us as well, and even joins us for dinner, often with the addition of Mary and Kitty.
Our dear father is very well, and I think he finds that the return of relative tranquility to Longbourn after the excitement of the last few months agrees with him. He has come to shoot with Bingley twice since we returned from Derbyshire a week ago, and it gives me great joy to see them so easy in each other's company. Papa was also pleased to hear how well you do at Pemberley. I believe he, with all of us, misses you a great deal.
And it is with that sentiment in mind, that I issue a warm invitation for you and my dear brother to come and join us at Netherfield as soon as you are at leisure. You might stay with us in Hertfordshire for a few weeks, and then we may all travel up to London for the season in March. You might bring Miss Darcy with you, for I know we should all like to become better acquainted with her, charming and sweet tempered as she is, and everyone here is anxious to see you. I would particularly welcome your presence, Lizzy, you who are my dearest friend and sister.
Write your answer as soon as you are able, and be sure to extend our love to my dear brother.
Until we have the pleasure of your company at Netherfield, I remain,
your affectionate sister,
JB
Elizabeth Darcy refolded her sister's letter and tucked it back inside her small traveling handbag, a faint smile of affection for its author hanging about her lips. Upon receipt of it at Pemberley two weeks ago she had quickly replied with her acceptance of the invitation to Netherfield, eager to see her dearest sister, who she found it difficult, despite her happiness in marriage, to be so often without. Mr. Darcy, who was always eager to please the wife with whom he was entirely besotted, had readily agreed to the scheme, though both husband and wife of the so recently married couple knew a return to Hertfordshire would necessitate leaving their quiet and secluded sanctuary in Derbyshire behind. Now, as the familiar sights of Hertfordshire began to speed past the carriage window, Elizabeth breathed a contented sigh, and knowing she would soon enough return to the sanctuary, wondered how this first return to Hertfordshire should progress.
A bend in the road caused her traveling companion to brush against her, and Elizabeth's smile grew wider with amusement when his head came to rest on her shoulder. She had been excessively diverted to learn early on in her marriage that her formidable husband, who had once terrorized the Meryton Assembly rooms and the Netherfield Ball with his contempt, had a remarkably uncharacteristic and endearing habit of falling asleep during any carriage ride of long duration. He always seemed surprising unaware of the fact himself, but never failed to remark at the end of a long journey how speedily the time had passed. Elizabeth no longer wondered at his having called "fifty miles of good road" an easy distance all those months ago at Hunsford.
Elizabeth gently brought the arm closest to him round his neck and let it rest on his shoulder, then with her free hand reached to pull his forgotten book from his grasp and set it on the opposite side of the carriage. It would not be long til Netherfield now, perhaps as little as a quarter of an hour. She absent-mindedly ran her fingers through his hair. Who would have thought, nearly a year and a half ago now, that she would be making this journey with this man? She smiled. Certainly not she. But kissing the top of his head as he slept, she was certainly glad to have been proven wrong.
Another lurch, this time more violent, shook the carriage and woke Darcy.
"Ah, if it isn't the handsome troubadour himself, returned to the land of wakefulness."
A slightly befuddled Darcy sat up and rubbed his eyes. "I was not asleep, was I?"
"Only for the last hour. But do not worry, I will not betray you to Mr. R. W. Beresford, and tell him that his gripping Aquatic and Terrestrial Life of East Anglia Waterfowl has dispatched you to sweet slumbers."
Darcy gave his wife a sheepish grin. "We were in such a dreadful hurry to leave yesterday morning that I confess I took the first book that caught my attention."
"Which explains the selection more than amply. I should pity anyone who selected the same voluntarily. I will, however, be gracious enough keep myself from jumping to the conclusion that you preferred even the company of Mr. Beresford and his waterfowl to mine. . ."
"I am certainly glad to hear it, for I should hate to think that you believed it was anything other than the likelihood of falling asleep resting on the bosom of so fair a lady that guided my choice."
Elizabeth laughed, ending their exchange of witticisms, a practice increasingly frequent between the two. "You know you shall not be able to say such things whilst we are in Hertfordshire and in the company of my oldest acquaintances, my love."
He smiled winningly back at her. "I know, and that is why I am getting a last few remarks in now, before I am once more under your mother's scrutiny. . ."
Elizabeth's soft laughter was interrupted when her mouth was claimed for an equally, if not more agreeable purpose, by her husband, who seemed to have promptly forgotten all about provocative remarks.
Jane Bingley waited impatiently in Netherfield's front hall, pausing in her pacing every few minutes to look out the windows to see if the Darcy carriage had yet made its way into the drive. Her excitement to see her sister, though they had last parted scarcely over three weeks ago, was great, and the afternoon of her arrival had seemed to drag its way on forever.
Marriage agreed with the former eldest Miss Bennet. With her sweet temper and good nature, she might have got on well enough as any virtually any man's wife, but Charles Bingley, as she had known almost from their first meeting at the assembly ball, was just the man to suit her. He was agreeable and charming, eager to please and generous to a fault, and for the latter trait Jane was especially grateful to him, for he bore the frequent visitations and outbursts of her mother extremely well. Mrs. Bingley could not help but feel a little guilty relief in addition to the joy her sister's impending visit occasioned, for the Darcys' return to Hertfordshire would also provide Mrs. Bennet with another newly married daughter over whom to exalt.
Jane's thoughts were interrupted when a hand caught her arm and halted her pacing. Surprised, she looked up into the smiling face of her husband, just returned from an afternoon's sport.
"If you continue in this manner, my dear, we shall have to replace the flooring, and poor Caroline would be beside herself, as she took very great pains last October to see it perfected."
Jane sighed, but returned his smile. "You tease me Charles, but I can't seem to help it. I was sure they should be here by now. You do not think something has gone amiss?"
"My sweet Jane, do not concern yourself. Your anxiousness to see Elizabeth skews your perception of the time. Have no fear for their safety, my love. They will not doubt arrive before the afternoon is gone."
Jane offered him an appreciative, if not completely convinced, smile and Bingley kissed her cheek. "Is your mother still here by any chance?" he asked softly, while his lips were still near her ear.
Even the generous and long-suffering Mrs. Bingley could not hold back a sigh at the mention of the forever meddling Mrs. Bennet. "No. She left about an hour ago saying something about an important dinner guest at Longbourn this evening, and looking very smug. It is not like Mama to be secretive, but I confess I have no idea what she means."
To his wife's surprise, Bingley laughed knowingly. "No doubt Mr. Weldonpool, the promising though thoroughly awkward young law student from London is coming to dine."
"My dear Charles, whatever are you talking of?"
"Kitty's new suitor."
"Her what?"
Bingley grinned, immensely pleased to be for once the one dispatching selective information. "Did you not know, my dear? Mr. Weldonpool's father was a great friend of yours at school, and though he was never anything of much consequence when Mr. Bennet knew him, quite the reverse, I understand, he has since come into quite a tidy sum of money. His eldest son, who we may assume is to pay a call on your good people this evening, has nearly finished his last year up at Cambridge, and not only promises to make a very good attorney once he comes into his father's money, but is also a very good age to be married at."
"Is he indeed?" asked Jane, feeling her spirits sink a little at another of her mother's schemes, and feeling very sorry for her poor sister. "And how did you come upon this piece of information, my love?"
"You father."
"You two are very thick."
"We rub along rather nicely. Besides, we have a common favorite subject."
"Which is?"
"You."
Mrs. Bingley smiled and blushed while her husband looked very pleased with himself for having said something so winning without having planned ahead for it. His victory was short lived, however, for in the next moment his wife's attention was effectively diverted.
"Lizzy!"
As foretold by Mr. Bingley, the Darcy carriage was seen entering the drive. Mrs. Bingley was so delighted she quite forgot about her husband, her father, and Mr. Weldonpool, and promptly hurried out to the front steps to welcome her sister and brother-in-law.
"Dearest Lizzy!" exclaimed Jane, reaching the carriage and throwing her arms round Elizabeth as soon as she had been helped down by her husband.
Laughing happily, Elizabeth returned her sister's embrace. "My dear, sweet Jane! How happy I am to see you!"
Bingley, who had followed Jane down the steps, though at a slightly less exuberant pace, now reached the party gathered at the carriage and extended a warm and cordial hand to his old friend.
"Welcome, Darcy. Awfully glad to have you and my dear sister with us in Hertfordshire once more."
"Thank you, Bingley. We are grateful for your hospitality."
Bingley smiled and motioned to their wives, who were holding each other firmly by both hands and continuing their greetings with great energy. "Anything to keep the ladies happy."
Darcy regarded the two sisters with an amused twist of the mouth often seen on his wife's lips, and remarked ironically, "I don't suppose we have much hope of ever regaining their attention again?"
When Mrs. Bingley heard this, she spared a moment from her sister, and apologizing for her neglect, welcomed her brother as warmly and happily as anyone who had not the advantage of being her dearest sister could wish to be. Bingley and Elizabeth likewise exchanged an affectionate greeting, and when the first salutations were complete, the four made their way back up the steps and into the house.
"Had you a pleasant journey from Derbyshire?" asked Bingley when they entered the front hall. "Poor Jane's nerves were greatly perturbed with thoughts that your carriage had upset itself or that you had been attacked by robbers, all because you were not here at the stroke of three this afternoon."
Mrs. Bingley blushed and looked a little vexed, but both Darcy and Elizabeth, recognizing the reprimand Mrs. Bennet so often used with tardy guests, paled slightly and inquired simultaneously if the lady was in the house.
Bingley laughed at the dread in their countenances. "No, you have just missed her. She has gone back to Longbourn for the evening in hopes of entertaining a husband for Miss Kitty. But Mr. Bennet is in the house."
At this even Jane looked surprised. "I had no idea my father was here. Have you been hiding him, Charles?"
"He was out shooting with me this afternoon. We avoided the house because. . ." Bingley realized what he was about to say a moment too late and colored. "That is to say, he didn't make his presence known because. . ."
"Because his wife was inside devising matrimonial schemes between half her unmarried friends and neighbors, and probably holding poor Mrs. Bingley as an unwilling listener," finished Darcy dryly, but with a smile. "Is it not so, Jane?"
Everyone laughed, and Jane blushed again. "I'm afraid it is."
"Perhaps it is best that my mother is too much afraid of you to speak more than two words together in your presence, my love," said Elizabeth. "What a verbal scathing she would receive if she possessed more courage!"
"No, I think I should restrain myself. As you well know, my dear, I save verbal scathing for only the most provocative situations."
"Including, but not limited to disastrous proposals of marriage, I think."
"Yes, but only if the lady is worth having."
While the Darcys regarded each other with teasing looks, Jane watched amazed, wondering that her sister and her husband could now make so light of a matter which had caused them both such distress nearly a year ago. Clearly, Mr. Darcy was "learning to laugh at himself" as Elizabeth had put it, and she herself to acknowledge openly that her once prized judgement was not implacable.
Bingley, who had not understood the exchange at all, wondering who else Darcy might have proposed marriage to and why in the world he had saw fit to tell his wife about it, suggested to his long-time friend that he might like to come round to the back of the house and see the new stables. Darcy readily agreed, and the ladies determined that in the meantime they should see to settling the Darcys into their guest quarters.
"Oh, Bingley, I nearly forgot!" cried Elizabeth, turning when she and Jane had reached the top of the stairs. "Where is it that you are hiding my father?"
Bingley laughed. "Where else? The fellow has completely monopolized my library, and I do not think I shall ever have use of it again."
"I can well believe it. I think I shall just peak in on him before dinner when Jane and I are finished upstairs. Will he dine with us, do you think?"
"I should think not! There's the catching of Mr. Weldonpool to think of, and Mrs. Bennet cannot do it all her self!"
Elizabeth knitted her brows and was about to inquire after Mr. Weldonpool's identity, but her sister, whose angelic eyes had risen heavenward with a sigh at the mention of his name, took her arm and lead her up the remaining stairs saying, "I will inform you later."
"Oh, Jane!" gasped her sister in delight. "It is indeed a very handsome room."
The mistress of Netherfield smiled. "I thought it should please you. I confess I had it redone with your tastes in mind."
"No doubt to lure me back to Hertfordshire as often as may be!" teased Elizabeth, squeezing her sister's hands. "And you have done a fine job of it! How I shall enjoy these rooms whilst we are here." She went to the window, a habit she had unconsciously acquired from her husband, and pulled back the curtain to take in the view. Below Bingley and Darcy passed by on their way to the stables. She smiled. How different would this stay at Netherfield be from her last under its roof!
"Do you find it strange, Lizzy, to be returned to Hertfordshire?"
Elizabeth turned away from the window and back toward her sister. "I hardly know. We have scarce been here an hour, and have not yet even passed through Meryton or called at Longbourn. But I think it shall take me a moment when we do to accustom myself to the change. I began to feel it as I recognized the paths of some of my favorite walks from the carriage window as we drove through the countryside today. How odd that one can be changed so much and hardly notice it, but then return to a place so familiar and feel the difference all at once."
Jane nodded with a smile of understanding. "But you are happy, Lizzy. I have never seen you so radiant. How you and your Mr. Darcy have managed to transform each other, I know not, but between the two of you, you have made two wonderful people even better!"
Elizabeth laughed, amused at her sister's way of putting it. "I suppose that is as fair an assessment of our situation as any, though the path to transformation has been anything but easy. I sometimes cannot help but find it amusing that two people who had so many reasons to dislike each other should end up so devoted to one another in the end, but life is full of its little inconsistencies. For my part, I could not be more glad, more grateful that it is so!"
"Oh yes, and I!" agreed Jane. "By all rights I should still be pinning after Charles' first departure from Netherfield all those months ago, but by some happy twist of fate here I am!"
Elizabeth smiled. "I think we all knew from that assembly ball forward that there should never be another mistress at Netherfield- it was really only a question of how long it would take the two of you to realise it."
"You tease me now, Lizzy, but I was in great distress over the thought that Charles had ceased to care for me last winter. And as for there never being another mistress at Netherfield, well, time runs its course."
This remark of her sister's confused Elizabeth for a moment. "What can you mean, Jane?"
She seemed to regret having said as much. "Oh I don't know. One's situation changes- perhaps Charles and I might spend more time in London in the future. . ."
"Indeed?" At first Elizabeth was surprised at the assertion, but then realization dawned on her. "I see . . . do I conjecture too much in saying that perhaps Netherfield, for all its advantages, may be situated rather too close to certain company?"
Jane gave her a guilty half-smile, but her answer was evasive. "I am very grateful to be blessed with a home so near my dear family, and you know Charles is so fond of Netherfield. I am sure we shall see many more happy parties formed here in Hertfordshire. And now, my dear Lizzy, if you wish to greet Papa before he returns to Longbourn for dinner, you had better go down to the library now, for you know how my mother hates to sit down at table with company a minute later than seven o'clock!"
Elizabeth slipped down the stairs to the first floor, and being able to remember rather well from her last visit the location of Netherfield's library, made her way there eagerly to see her father. Giving the door two soft knocks to announce her presence, Elizabeth then opened the door slightly and peeked around it to determine if he was still there.
Mr. Bennet sat in an armchair by the fire, sipping a glass of port and evidently enjoying his selection very much. A smile of affection lit his daughter's face at the familiar sight.
"Hello, Papa."
Mr. Bennet looked up from his book, and seeing his second daughter standing in the doorway, his eyes lit up with delight behind his spectacles, and he motioned for her to join him by the fireplace. "Well, well, if it isn't my Lizzy at last."
Elizabeth smiled warmly, and taking his extended hand bent to kiss his cheek. "Bingley told me I should find you here. I am very glad to see you, Papa."
"Well, I am not as handsome as I used to be, but I'm glad to have secured one lady's attention. I suppose you brought that other fellow with you?"
Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, that other fellow has gone with Bingley to pass judgement on his new stables. Jane and I are to fend for ourselves until dinner."
"Neglecting you already is he, Lizzy? Well, my dear, in the that case we should be happy to have you back at Longbourn whenever you wish."
His daughter merely smiled at him, and squeezed his hand.
"No, still quite besotted with the gentleman, I see. Ah well. Now, let's have a look at you. The picture of health as usual. Very good. How long are you to favor us with your presence, my dear?"
"Three weeks. We are to go up to Town with Jane and Bingley at the end of them."
"To Town, eh? How very grand you will be there, Lizzy. I knew it should not be long before you engaged in a competition of finery with your elder sister. How are the sensible fallen! And speaking of sisters, has your newest joined you here?"
"She is to arrive tomorrow week. Mrs. Annesley was not willing to relinquish her lessons just yet."
Mr. Bennet nodded. "Then she is a studious young lady. Excellent. She will make good company for Kitty, I think."
Elizabeth knit her brow. "For Kitty, sir?"
"Yes, of course for Kitty. Miss Darcy, who I remember being a very sensible, prettyish sort of girl, is almost sure to alienate Mary with the superiority of her wisdom, and the inferiority of her self appreciation."
His daughter lifted her eyebrows as the corner of her mouth rose in skepticism, but she did not comment on it. "How is everyone at Longbourn?" she asked, the mention of her sisters recalling her first home to her.
"Oh, well enough, well enough, my dear. Your dear mother is beside herself trying to get husbands for Mary and Kitty as she is still glowing in 'her' victories over Misters Bingley and Darcy. I am sure she has almost quite given up on poor Mary, and Kitty is too contrary to like anyone Mrs. Bennet does. Nowadays I seem to be more familiar with my library than ever."
Elizabeth smiled down at her father sympathetically. "You should come to us at Pemberley, Papa, and take advantage of Mr. Darcy's extensive library. In my opinion, it is just the thing to suit your tastes."
Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Perhaps I will, my dear. But I shall only come when you least expect me."
Elizabeth laughed. "Very well, then. I shall do my best never to expect you."
She spoke with her father for about a quarter of an hour, until he was obliged to return to Longbourn and preside at table over Mr. Weldonpool and his amorous attentions to Kitty. With an affectionate sigh as she watched him go, Elizabeth then went upstairs to find Jane and to change for dinner.
The gentleman returned from Mr. Bingley's new stables only a little later than expected, and once everyone was changed the two couples sat down to a pleasant dinner. The sisters had much to say to one another, as did their husbands, and everyone experienced the too rare pleasure of a party composed entirely of desired company.
"How did you find Bingley's new stables, Mr. Darcy?" inquired Jane of her brother when the party had retired to the sitting room for coffee. "Are they worth all the energy he and my father have spent in planning for and admiring them?"
"Mr. Bennet lent his assistance as well?" Asked Darcy, rather surprised to hear it. "Well, then I am happy to report that I find no fault with them whatever, and could not be more pleased that my own horses are housed there now."
Elizabeth, whose face had lit up with amusement upon hearing the surprise in her husband's voice now remarked, "I suppose you think my father does nothing but sit in his library and devise plans to avoid my mother?"
Bingley laughed at this assessment of his father-in-law's behavior, but was quickly silenced by a warning look from his wife. Darcy, who found Elizabeth's comment no less amusing than his friend had, restrained his laughter for his sister's sake, and said with only the hint of a smile, "No indeed, my dear."
"Really, Lizzy," said Jane, feeling somewhat guilty for having reproached her husband. "You oughtn't say such things."
Elizabeth offered her sister an apologetic smile. "I am sorry, Jane. I'm afraid I couldn't help myself. Poor dear Mama."
Jane sighed. "Yes, poor dear Mama."
Perhaps it was best that nether lady saw their husbands exchange looks of apprehension at the pitying of their mutual mother-in-law. "Speaking of Mama, Jane," Elizabeth continued, "would a call at Longbourn tomorrow morning be agreeable to everyone? I want to pay our visit before Darcy's courage fails him. We might lunch with my mother and father and Mary and Kitty." As her husband began to fidget in his seat, she laughed quietly and laid a reassuring hand on his knee. "I'm sure we need not stay any longer than a few hours, my love. If you are well behaved, we might well be out of the house by two in the afternoon, and you know you need not really pay my mother any mind."
Darcy smiled at his wife, amused. "Needn't I?"
"No, of course not. So long as you tell her that you and your entire acquaintance are in good health, and make relatively attentive inquires after the her health and the health of her remaining daughters, she will be content. I doubt she would even mind if you asked after her family's health twice for lack of anything else to say. I've known you to do the same when more was at stake than familial amicability, and as things stand now, it seems to have had its desired effect."
Though the Bingleys did not understand her reference, they could see that Darcy comprehended her meaning perfectly, and felt strangely out of place as he and Elizabeth exchanged knowing looks. It was only the work of a moment though, and soon Darcy was saying, "Very well, Elizabeth. If your family will have us tomorrow morning, then to Longbourn we will go."
"Excellent. Jane, Bingley, will you accompany us?"
Jane and Bingley exchanged glances, both unwilling to spend three or four hours of the morning at Longbourn, when they had enough trouble as it was keeping Mrs. Bennet there instead of at Netherfield. Jane spoke up first, saving her husband from the necessity of expressing his aversion to spending time in the presence of her mother. "I'm afraid both Charles and I have a great many things to attend to tomorrow morning, but I do not see why we could not join you all for luncheon, if you would inform my mother of our coming, Lizzy."
Elizabeth smiled at her sister in understanding. "Of course I will."
"Well, that's all settled then!" said Bingley, with an open smile of relief. "Now you may spend the whole of Thursday morning with us in expectation of Caroline's coming."
Both Darcy and Elizabeth regarded him in complete surprise. "Miss Bingley?" they exclaimed together in amazement.
Jane blanched and shook her head. "Oh dear! How completely I forgot it! Dear Lizzy, my dear brother, pray forgive my oversight. Caroline wrote to us from London just after we received your acceptance of our invitation. She has been staying with the Hursts at their house in Town, but they are to go abroad to the continent in a fortnight and she wondered if we might have her here at Netherfield until we go up to London in March. Of course we could not refuse my sister, and she is to stay with us until our departure for Town. I was so happy at your arrival I completely forgot to mention it!"
"And she comes the day after tomorrow?" asked Darcy, looking as though he could think of many persons, with the possible exception of Napoleon or his aunt Lady Catherine, whose coming would please him more. It was then his turn to receive a warning look from his wife.
"Indeed she does. Dear Mr. Darcy, do forgive me."
"I say, Darcy," interjected Bingley, "you needn't look as if the idea of meeting with my sister was so distasteful to you. I daresay she is not as agreeable to you as some of my others, but she has always been fond of you, and you needn't be any more than civil, man."
"Forgive me, Bingley, I meant no offence. You merely caught me unawares. Of course you should be able to invite your own sister into your own house."
"Oh, yes, well, of course I should. No offence taken, old man. I say, by the time Miss Darcy joins us, this house will be simply full of sisters. We shall be quite out numbered, Darcy."
Elizabeth smiled at Bingley's comment. "Let me venture to say, dear brother, that so long as you do not invite his mother's formidable sister to Netherfield, he shall not mind being outnumbered so very much."
Everyone laughed at this, and the rest of the evening was passed in pleasant conversation until it was time to retire.
Elizabeth, tired from the journey and at last at liberty to shut her eyes, wasted no time in crawling into bed as soon as she and Darcy retired that evening. She slipped gratefully beneath the coverlets and shut her eyes before even waiting for her husband to emerge from the dressing room, knowing he would join her soon enough.
As she knew he would, he entered the room a few minutes later, with a small smile she could not see at her somewhat uncharacteristic eagerness to retire. Though her back faced him she felt the bed shift as he got into it beside her, and without turning she asked sleepily, "Is that my favorite bedfellow?"
She sensed his smile rather than saw it. "It is if he answers to the name Fitzwilliam Darcy," he responded. "If not, I must insist on knowing his name and address immediately so that I might deliver my challenge to him without further delay."
She laughed softly and rolled over to look up at him sitting on his side of the bed. "You will do."
"I should hope so - for your sake as much as mine - you are stuck with me, you know."
"I don't seem to mind."
"I should like to keep it that way." He bent to place a kiss on her forehead. "And how is't with you, my love?"
She yawned. "At the moment, exhausted. The day has been rather demanding."
"Well, you ought to have slept a little in the carriage. I find carriages an excellent place to take one's repose."
"I confess I had thought of it, but my only traveling companion beat me to it, and I thought someone ought to be awake upon our arrival at Netherfield."
"Did you indeed? I think you'll find wakefulness is highly overrated, my love."
"Then you will not object to my present efforts to dispel it?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"On what grounds?"
"On the grounds you have not yet given me my goodnight kiss."
Elizabeth smiled sleepily at him. "My dear sir, why did you not say so before?" She raised herself up on her elbows and turned her face invitingly toward him with a little smile. Returning it, he leaned down to her and met her lips. Both tired from their long journey to Hertfordshire, the kiss was a relatively chaste one, but still full of the warm familiarity they enjoyed. Darcy moved his lips to her cheek and reached up to grasp a handful of her hair, feeling fortunate to be once more solely in the company of she he loved best.
"Elizabeth, is it strange to you to be in Hertfordshire again?"
"Funny you should ask me that," she replied, pulling herself to lean against the headboard of the bed as he did. "Jane wondered the same thing earlier."
"It is a natural question considering the circumstances, is it not?"
"Very natural indeed. The only pity is I haven't an answer for it yet!"
"I suppose we have not yet been to Longbourn. . ."
"Yes, exactly, or seen anybody but Bingley and Jane, and we saw them at Christmas."
"Did not you find your father in Bingley's library just after we arrived?"
"Well, yes, and I was very glad to. But there is something about my father that one can only catch in his natural environment."
Darcy laughed a little. "My dear girl, whatever can you mean by 'his natural environment'?"
Elizabeth looked at him as though she failed to understand his confusion. "Why his own library, of course!"
Darcy laughed still. "Oh, I see! Pardon my density."
She turned her nose up in mock disapproval, but could not keep from smiling. "Perhaps I will, given the proper inducement. . ."
"I will do my very best to think of something that will tempt you to it."
"Yes, do."
With a teasing smile he kissed her cheek again, then her lips, and settled his head against her shoulder, as if he meant to fall asleep there as he had in the carriage earlier that day. Elizabeth laughed softly. "Is this what you had in mind?" she said quietly into his ear, and he smiled, his eyes still closed, in response. Feigning a sigh, she reached round his shoulders and let her fingers comb absently through his hair as she had before, feeling very sleepy herself.
"My love?" she said suddenly, stopping the motion of her fingers through his hair.
"Hmm?" replied Darcy, hoping the question would be a short one so that she would resume her previous activities without delay.
"What do you think of Miss Bingley's coming?"
Darcy groaned and secretly cursed Miss Bingley. "I wish it were a malicious falsehood."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and hit him with a pillow. "I mean it now, William."
"So do I!"
"Oh, for heaven's sake! She isn't as bad as all that!"
He sat up, fully awake once more. "You spent only three days in the same house with her. By the end of last year, my time was approaching six months! She is an exceedingly conceited and unpleasant sort of person, and I cannot forgive her for some of the nasty things she has said to you."
"And yet we don't seem to be any worse off because of them. She only said what she did in petty jealousy, and can I fault her for having as good a taste in gentleman as I?"
"Is it your intention to placate me with flattery?"
"No, disguise of every sort is my abhorrence."
"I am glad to hear it."
"Will you promise to be civil to Miss Bingley when she comes?"
"If you insist on it."
"Good."
"Will I be rewarded for my efforts?"
Elizabeth eyed him warily. "What did you have in mind?"
He smiled, twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers. "I shall keep an open mind."
She hit him with the pillow again, and settled back under the coverlets. "Goodnight, William."
He reached over to the night stand and blew out the last candle burning. "Goodnight, Elizabeth."
They were both silent a moment, the darkness having a mollifying effect, but then Darcy found Elizabeth's hand at her side and pulled her closer to him.
"Elizabeth?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
He sensed her smile in the dark. "I love you, though heaven knows why. Go to sleep. It won't do to have you lounging about the furniture tomorrow in a groggy stupor. I should hate to think I married a man who bears any resemblance to Mr. Hurst."
Laughter rang out briefly from the newly decorated guest quarters at Netherfield, and the upstairs maid, who knew whose it was, smiled as she made her way past their doors on her way to bed.
Chapter Two
This chapter introduces a pairing of original P&P characters championed in Lise's "Changing Principles," "Changing Nappies," and "Keeping Principles." Her stories are such a riot and I love them so much that I just had to follow her example and steer the two of them together! Thanks for the great reception of Chapter One. So without further ado, here is:
Since the advantageous marriages of her two eldest daughters in the autumn, Mrs. Bennet had spent the most exalted three months of her life. She could not believe her good fortune in having secured two such wealthy and well connected gentleman for her daughters, and congratulated herself on having raised two young women so handsome and accomplished, providing them with the means of making such brilliant matches.
Her entire acquaintance had heard many times the story of how her dear son-in-law Mr. Bingley could not bear the idea of London, or indeed of any place at all, without her dear Jane by his side, and how even his formidable friend Mr. Darcy had proved unable to resist her Lizzy's charms. She was very sure that Mrs. Bingley and Mrs. Darcy would be the talk of the next season in Town, and was always in raptures about what their fine connections would be able to do for their unmarried sisters, of which now there were only two. Yes indeed, Mrs. Bennet was in her element, and had either of her sons-in-law been the Prince of Wales, she could not have managed to be much happier.
Mary and Kitty, on the other hand, were rather a different story. Never having got along particularly well, though not perhaps as badly as Mary had with Lydia, the two middle Bennet girls found that in the absence of the rest of their sisters they were often thrown together. This proved a strange paring indeed, for the only real thing the two ladies had in common was a desire for their mother to refrain from forecasting, especially in public, wealthy marriages for them between the richest members of their brothers' acquaintance.
For Kitty's part, she would endure all her mother's antics if it meant that having two such brothers would secure her a place in the Darcy or the Bingley townhouse for the season. It mattered not which, as she was sure they were both situated in very fashionable portions of Town. It was Kitty's intention to thoroughly enjoy herself at all the fancy balls and parties her sisters would doubtless be invited to, collect a great many admirers and break a great many hearts, and at last, marry for true love when her handsome, wealthy, and advantageously connected duke asked for the honor of her hand. She was sure that all this was possible in London, and her dearest wish in all the world was to secure an invitation from either of her sisters to come with them to Town at the beginning of March.
Mary would have been happy enough to see her younger sister go. She was tired of Kitty's constant chatter and discontented banging about the house when there was a great deal of study to be done as well as practice at the pianoforte. A season in London for Kitty would give her mother something else to talk about, shifting her attention from Mary's seemingly hopeless chances at matrimony and leaving her to pursue her books and music in peace. Yet for all her wisdom, Mary tried not to think too much about the future. Perhaps after her father died, rather than become a burden to any of her sisters, as her mother would undoubtedly be, she would join a convent, and live out the rest of her days in holy service.
Such were the thoughts and hopes of the ladies at Longbourn when Mr. and Mrs. Darcy came to visit them.
Mrs. Bennet had been informed by her eldest daughter some weeks ago that Elizabeth and her husband were to favor them with their company at Netherfield. Though Mrs. Bennet was at first rather put out that she would not have the pleasure of hosting Mrs. Darcy upon her first return to Hertfordshire, she soon decided that having a daughter as a particular guest at Netherfield sounded almost as grand as having a daughter mistress of it, and as soon as the thought occurred to her, she silenced her objections to the scheme, anticipating the pleasure she would have in telling Lady Lucas of her daughter's visit.
When the Darcy carriage appeared in Longbourn's drive the morning after having delivered its occupants to Hertfordshire, Mrs. Bennet was the first to spot it from the sitting room window, and ran out enthusiastically to welcome her distinguished guests.
"My dear Mrs. Darcy!" she exclaimed with a great flurry of her handkerchief as the latter was helped down from the carriage. "Oh my dearest girl! How very grand you look! Come and give me a kiss!"
Elizabeth, doing her best to feel happy to see her mother, and trying not to imagine the nature of her husband's thoughts at the present moment, dutifully came to be kissed. "Hello, Mama. How good it is to be back at Longbourn again."
Mr. Darcy then approached to pay his respects to his mother-in-law, and with a hint of an ironic smile, that Mrs. Bennet in her awe of him did not catch, inquired after her health and that of her family. Her slightly stammered reply was interrupted by the arrival of Mary, Kitty, and Mr. Bennet, who all kissed Elizabeth enthusiastically and greeted Darcy as each of their manners allowed.
"But where are our dear Mr. and Mrs. Bingley?" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet when her nerves were sufficiently calmed to notice their absence.
"They've been obliged to stay behind at Netherfield this morning, Mama, but they are looking foreword to joining us for luncheon- if that is agreeable to you, of course."
Mrs. Bennet, who chose to read busyness in the Bingleys as a sign of their great importance, promptly forgave their absence, and ushered her second daughter and her son-in-law into the house, where she might commence her interrogation.
Elizabeth smiled a little wistfully as they entered the house, and Darcy subtlety pressed the hand that rested on his arm, thinking she would have a different answer for him when he next asked what her feelings were to be returned to her first home. She turned her smile toward him briefly at his gesture, but her attention was soon demanded by Mrs. Bennet's cataloging of the improvements she was now planning to the house and grounds, and doubtless, thought Elizabeth warily, to be funded with Jane's pin money.
"Oh yes, my dear, we are going to make way at the south of the house for a very fashionable garden, lots of marble statues and things, just like everybody has in London nowadays, and I daresay this sitting room is in need of new furniture, do not you? Mrs. Bingley and I were thinking of going up to Town for a few days to select some pieces. And in the dinning room. . ."
Elizabeth shot a sideways glance at her father to see what he thought of all this, but as usual, he was merely content to find whatever came out of his wife's mouth excessively diverting and silly, and made no effort to dampen her hopes. Elizabeth sighed, and promised herself she would speak about it to Jane later.
"Well, well, enough about all that," said Mrs. Bennet, noticing her guests, indeed everyone but Mr. Bennet, was still standing. "Be seated my dears, be seated." Mrs. Bennet quickly secured for herself the closest end of a sofa for two, and as Elizabeth and Darcy had both been standing near the other end of it, her mother's action effectively claimed Elizabeth for the other side, leaving Darcy to find a seat next to Mary, whose book was poised ready in her lap for as soon as her attention to the conversation was not required. Elizabeth shot her husband a quick apologetic look, and Mr. Bennet, who had observed it from his comfortable position in an armchair across the room, grinned and adjusted his spectacles knowingly.
"How was your journey from Derbyshire?" Mrs. Bennet asked her daughter, but as Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, she continued, "I am sure with a carriage and team of horses as fine as Mr. Darcy's the journey was no trouble at all. Did you arrive yesterday afternoon?"
"Yes indeed, but. . ."
"Why did you not then come to us sooner, my dear? Though we are always very busy with calls and company as a rule, we were at home yesterday afternoon. I hope you do not fancy yourself too important to visit your own mother, Mrs. Darcy!"
Elizabeth fought with her patience a moment and then replied, "No, indeed, Mama, but it was quite late in the afternoon when we arrived at Netherfield, and we understood from my brother Bingley that you were engaged with Mr. Weldonpool's company for the evening."
At the mention of Mr. Weldonpool, Mrs. Bennet's vexation was entirely dispelled. "Oh, of course! Dear Mr. Weldonpool! What an agreeable man he is! He's taken quite a fancy to Kitty, you know, and comes to call very often."
"Oh Lord!" mumbled Kitty from her seat, who found Mr. Weldonpool a crashing bore.
As Mrs. Bennet prattled away to her second eldest about the virtues of Kitty's suitor, everyone else fidgeted in either embarrassment or boredom, except for Mr. Bennet, who sat perfectly easy in his favorite armchair and was enjoying the whole scene immensely. He liked to watch his son-in-law, who was quickly becoming his favorite, try valiantly for his daughter's sake to appear interested in the various compliments Mr. Weldonpool had paid Kitty, most of which Mrs. Bennet had fabricated herself, and was not surprised when Darcy finally gave up and turned to Mary with the question, "What is it you're reading, Miss Bennet?"
Mary, surprised at hearing herself addressed, especially by a gentleman she had scarce exchanged three words with in her life, faltered a moment.
"Uh, Fordyce's Sermons, sir." Unused to gentlemen's attention, and knowing her brother had a reputation for brief discourse, Mary hoped this would be the end of his curiosity.
But Darcy was determined. "Indeed? I ran into a few of them at Cambridge. Which volume do you have there?"
"Three, sir."
"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that one, though I remember reading most of one and two. Interesting reading for a young lady. One rather expects Fordyce to be read at her. Are you a theological scholar, Miss Bennet?"
Mary, at first unsure whether he was ridiculing her, stole a look into his face and realized Mr. Darcy was in actuality smiling at her. Clearly marriage to Lizzy had altered a few things. He has a very becoming smile, thought Mary idly, and then blushed immediately as if she had said it aloud.
"Miss Bennet?"
"Sorry?"
"I hope my question did not offend you."
"Oh, no of course not. I believe a steady diet of theological texts to be very stimulating for both the mind and the soul."
Darcy tried not to look too taken aback at this wordy answer, which had tumbled rather unceremoniously out his sister's mouth. "Undoubtedly."
There was a slight pause, and Mary wondered if he was talking to her merely to be kind or if Elizabeth had prompted him to make an effort. Well, if he could, so could she. Rallying her courage, Mary asked quietly, "Was theology a specialty of yours at Cambridge, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy, surprised to be addressed voluntarily by Mary but by no means displeased, favored her with another hint of a smile. "Not expressively, no, but philosophy was, and as you must be well aware, the two often go hand in hand."
Mary suddenly saw her brother-in-law in an whole new light. He was a fellow scholar! Her questions came easily now.
"Tell me, do you prefer Aristotle or the Stoics?"
"Oh, without a doubt Aristotle. I find the Stoics a rather depressing lot."
"Do you not find their devotion to duty and self-sacrifice admirable?"
"Indeed, who could not, but I find Aristotle's Ethics much more satisfying."
At that moment, Elizabeth, who had heard her husband and sister's voices when her mother had paused for breath, looked over and saw to her amazement the two engaged in an earnest conversation. Darcy, sensing her eyes on him, looked up a moment and smiled at her, and still confused, though pleased, she returned it before once more attending to what her mother was saying.
". . . and yesterday I received a letter from our dear Lydia, who says that she and Mr. Wickham are to remove from Newcastle, due to some unpleasantness amongst the officers, and carry on to. . ."
Elizabeth panicked, berating herself for having let her mother speak two seconds unwatched. "Mama, I wish you would tell me more about your plans for improvements to the house and grounds, it was so interesting. . ."
"Don't you wish to hear how your youngest sister does?"
"Of course, but perhaps this is not the time. . ."
Mrs. Bennet's voice rose in agitation, making it quite impossible for anyone in the room not to hear her. "Perhaps you think, Miss Lizzy, just because you married a wealthy gentleman, that you are above your sister who made a love match with an officer!"
Elizabeth, mortified at her mother's words and their implication, was rendered speechless a moment, as indeed was everyone else in the room. Mr. Bennet, who could not find this amusing, stood presently and said, "Mr. Darcy, I wonder if you would join me in my library. Lizzy tells me you are a great admirer of Chaucer, and I have some rather rare editions I think would interest you."
"Of course, Mr. Bennet," agreed Darcy rising. "I should be happy to." He made a slight bow to Mary and said kindly, "I hope we may continue our conversation later, Miss Mary." And with a long look at Elizabeth, who returned it with a slightly pained expression and a mouthed appology, he followed Mr. Bennet out of the room.
The removal of the gentleman seemed to suit Mrs. Bennet perfectly, for no sooner had they left the room than she piped, "Mary, Kitty, you may leave Lizzy and me to ourselves now. I have something very particular I wish to say to her."
"Mama, there is surely no need- I have not seen my sisters for some time. . ."
"You will see them at luncheon. Run along now girls, do as you're told."
Both Mary and Kitty were reluctant to go, Kitty because she had not yet been able to broach the subject of the season in Town and Mary because she was afraid her spirits were rather too palpitated at the moment for walking, but the two girls managed well enough, and obediently left the room as their mother had asked.
Mrs. Bennet then turned her undivided attention to Elizabeth. "Now, Lizzy, I wanted to be sure first thing to give you a bit of encouragement about the fulfilling of certain wifely duties. . ."
"Mother!"
Mr. Bennet offered his son-in-law a seat in his library and closed the door firmly behind them.
"Keeps out high frequency disturbances," he explained to Darcy, who smiled appreciatively.
"I know it's rather early, but would you care for a spot of port?"
"Oh, no thank you, sir."
"Good man. I, on the other hand, find it rather necessary at the moment. You don't mind?"
"Not at all."
Mr. Bennet opened the decanter and poured himself a short glass. After he had taken an exploratory sip he remarked, "I hope you weren't really interested in those Chaucer editions, because I'm afraid I fabricated their existence as a pretense to make a timely exit."
Darcy, only a little surprised, shook his head. "Not to worry, sir. I must confess I was rather suspicious of the scheme from the beginning."
"Were you indeed?"
"Yes. As it so happens, I'm quite indifferent to Chaucer, and have never given Elizabeth any reason to think otherwise."
Mr. Bennet chuckled. "I see," he said, taking a seat behind his desk.
Darcy explored the room with his eyes. The last time he had been in Mr. Bennet's library, he had been rather too anxious to notice much of anything, and the memory of the occasion made him smile to himself. Mr. Bennet was not perhaps the best husband and father in England, but he was devoted to Elizabeth and her happiness, and for that, Darcy was grateful to him.
"This is a very comfortable room, sir, and I daresay you have a fine collection."
"Yes, I do rather, if I say it myself. Frightfully small, though. I once expected to have at least twice as many volumes, but that was before any of the girls were born. Once Jane came along, there were other matters to claim my attention and finances, and as I'm sure you know, Mr. Darcy, the acquisition of fine books is not a matter to approach when one lacks an abundance of either."
Darcy smiled. "Yes, that is true, and a shame. All the same, sir, if you don't mind my saying so, I'm rather glad it did not keep you from having more daughters."
Mr. Bennet laughed again. "As am I, sir, as am I. No doubt one of them in particular finds your library at Pemberley a great blessing."
"Indeed, sometimes it is difficult to remove her from it."
"It is extensive, I daresay."
"Yes, it has been the work of many generations, and I am proud to say most of them had excellent taste."
"Most? Are there a few proverbial black sheep amongst your collection, sir?"
Darcy smiled, thinking of Mr. Beresford's Aquatic and Terrestrial Life of East Anglia Waterfowl. "They are all useful to serve one purpose or another," he replied enigmatically.
Mr. Bennet took another sip of his port. "You really mustn't let me drink alone, Mr. Darcy. I promise not to tell your wife."
Darcy chuckled. "Very well, sir."
While her husband and father enjoyed an easy and pleasant conversation in the library, Elizabeth was far from comfortable with her mother in the sitting room. Mrs. Bennet had taken it into her head that it was her duty as a mother to see that her daughter was doing her duty to her husband, and despite all Elizabeth's assurances that there was nothing her mother need concern herself about, Mrs. Bennet seemed determined to make her miserable.
"There's no need to be so shocked, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet, once she had opened the subject and received a less than encouraging reaction from Elizabeth. "I am your mother, you know, though you seem to fancy yourself so high and mighty after your marriage to Mr. Darcy, who you had no right to expect an offer from after your dealings with poor Mr. Collins."
"Mama, I don't see how that has anything to do with. . ."
"Now don't interrupt. I only wanted to give you a little nudge in the right direction. You needn't fear to tell me anything privately, Lizzy, for it's not as if I mean to go out and share it with the entire neighborhood."
A deep blush flared up in Elizabeth's cheeks, for she knew that if she uttered a word on the subject her mother would share everything immediately with her aunt Philips, who would in turn tell the entire neighborhood upon the first opportunity.
"Mother, you really mustn't concern yourself. Mr. Darcy and I are very happy together. . ."
Mrs. Bennet looked as exasperated with her daughter as Elizabeth was with her mother. "This isn't the time for excuses, Lizzy. I hope you have not been coming up with many to avoid Mr. Darcy when he is so inclined. I know that your husband is not perhaps the most agreeable man in England, but you admitted yourself at the assembly ball last October that he is a very handsome gentleman, and I daresay he is very well put together. You might try thinking of it that way the next time the subject comes up."
Elizabeth was growing more mortified with every syllable her mother uttered. She was in a terror that Mary and Kitty might reenter at any moment, or worse still, her husband and father. She prayed fervently for some distraction to interrupt her, one that did not involve anyone entering and overhearing what her mother was clearly determined to say.
Fortunately for Elizabeth, salvation was not long in coming, for just as Mrs. Bennet began waxing reminiscent of her first days as an unwilling bride, the Bingley carriage was heard pulling into the drive, and when Mr. and Mrs. Bingley were announced, Elizabeth flew into her sister's arms with an enthusiasm only rivaled by their greeting the day before.
"Dear Jane, thank God!" she said quietly but heartfeltly into Mrs. Bingley's ear.
Jane pulled back and looked into Elizabeth's face with a confused smile, but she offered nothing further. Soon everyone was called back into the sitting room to sit with the Bingleys until the dinning room had been prepared for lunch, and Elizabeth, though she blushed again furiously when her husband entered the room, soon returned to herself.
G______ Street, London
January 23rdDear Darcy,
Once again I am reminded of our difference of situation in the world. While you, my privileged friend, are enjoying the smiles and the affections of my pretty new cousin, hidden away in Derbyshire at an estate which is the envy of every man of property in England, I, your dutiful, diligent cousin, am slaving away in London in the service of his majesty's army, defending the honor of my country and my family, and all because I am a younger son. The next time Mrs. Darcy favors you with one of those teasing smiles of hers, think of me cousin, and pity.
My motive for writing, however, was not merely to exact sympathy for my situation. In addition, I have a favor to ask (we younger sons are often asking favors). My regiment makes for Dover shortly, and is to break its journey for further training in Hertfordshire, quite near Meryton and your friend Mr. Bingley's estate. The officers are to be put up by a Sir Thomas Clarville at Finney Park, but as I must plead guilty to the charge of having broke Lady Clarville's heart while it still fluttered in the breast of Miss Smithson during her first season in Town two years ago, I had rather not linger about Finney Hall.
I heard from Miss Caroline Bingley, whom I often see when I am in London and who is always the best person to know if one wants news about anyone, that you, Mrs. Darcy, and Georgiana are to spend February at Netherfield Park. Now we come to the bit about a favor. Might I trouble you to secure me an invitation for February as well?
Your friend Bingley is a very easy sort of fellow, and I would not ask if I thought he would object to the scheme. I should promise to be very quite and eat no more than my rations dictate. Besides, I hear Miss Bingley is to be there as well, and as a thorough understanding of her complex character has become rather a pet project of mine, it would not do to let the subject escape the observer's careful eye for long.
Our arrival is set for Thursday, the third of February. If you are in agreement, don't bother to write back, for I know you find letter writing a very tiresome occupation, and I should yet again feel my inferiority upon the sight of your penmanship.
Your dutiful, diligent cousin,
Col. R.H. Fitzwilliam
Sitting alone in Bingley's library after the Netherfield party had returned from Longbourn, Darcy studied the letter from his cousin with a mixture of confusion, irritation, and amusement, and it was necessary for him to read it through a few times before he could form an opinion of its contents. One often had to do so with Fitzwilliam's communications, for beneath his seemingly flippant manner of expressing himself, he usually had something of some importance to relate.
For one, he doubted that Fitzwilliam had ever broken the maiden heart of Lady Clarville, though it was very likely he had engaged in a brief flirtation with her and one time or another. His rather unorthodox application for an invitation to Netherfield must have come from a desire to see the cousins with whom he had always been close, especially Georgiana, his joint ward, before going to Dover- for from there he might go anywhere, and likely with little idea of when he would be coming back again.
The reference to Miss Bingley, however, thoroughly confused Darcy. He himself had introduced them years ago, but the two moved in widely different circles, especially in Town, and how Fitzwilliam had experienced, let alone tolerated enough of Miss Bingley's society to make her a pet project was beyond his cousin's comprehension. Still, he would have ample time to make the discovery beginning the next day, for as the letter had gone unanswered, having arrived first at Pemberley after Darcy had left it, Fitzwilliam would surely come upon the morrow. Now all Darcy need do was warn Bingley of his arrival.
It was then that the former gentleman entered the library and spotted his friend in the armchair. "Ah, there you are, Darcy. Care for a stroll before dinner?"
"Certainly, Bingley," replied Darcy as he rose from his place, tucking the letter into the breast pocket of his coat.
"How did you fare at lunch this afternoon? Not too rude a reawakening, I hope," said Bingley as they made their way down Netherfield's front steps.
Remembering the experience, Darcy rolled his eyes. "I had forgotten just how irritating that woman's voice is."
Bingley laughed, glad to have someone else at last he could acknowledge the fact to. "I am afraid it is indeed, old man."
"One would think she would stop when she realized no one else shared her interest in the superiority of her bluebells to Lady Lucas', but Mrs. Bennet seems to be impervious to all such perceptions."
"Yes, thoroughly so. I did feel rather sorry for Jane and Elizabeth. Neither of them could manage to look up from the tablecloth above twice throughout the whole of lunch."
Darcy nodded. "You know, I noticed too. And the funny thing is, I could hardly get a word out of Elizabeth for an hour or so after we left Longbourn. Most unlike her. I thought she would either end the afternoon furious with her mother or laughing at her antics, and in the end she was decidedly incommunicative. Oh well. I'm sure I'll get it out of her sooner or later."
"Yes, I'm sure you will."
"I'm sorry you and Jane have had to bear the brunt of Mrs. Bennet's enthusiasm for the last three months, Bingley. I am sure you both must be quite tired of it by now."
Bingley shrugged his shoulders in response, and a kind a resigned look had settled over his face.
"Perhaps you might start thinking of buying your own estate somewhere. Netherfield's a fine place, to be sure, but you are still only a tenet here, and you have ample means to own your own estate out right. It would be an excellent investment, and Elizabeth and I would not mind having you both closer to Derbyshire."
Bingley smiled noncommittally. "It's kind of you to say so, Darcy. But we really are happy here. Jane and I would both be sorry to give up Netherfield."
Darcy eyed his friend interrogatively. "Have you asked your wife what she thinks of the idea?"
Bingley looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, not in so many words, but I know Jane is. . ."
"Probably as tired of her mother's antics as you are. You ought to talk to her, Bingley. She is your wife, you know."
Bingley seemed inspired to defend himself. "It's all very well for you to say, Darcy. Poor Jane knows her mother's quite the limit, but she won't have anyone saying anything against her. I've been trying to think of some way to warm her to the idea of moving house, but I can't exactly uproot her from the place she's always lived in and the people she's always known and expect her to be happy about it!"
"Why not? I did."
"Yes, but Lizzy's an entirely different sort of girl."
"What difference does that make?"
"Mrs. Bennet quite depends upon Jane. . ."
"And she does not have two perfectly able daughters already at home to perform the same duty? Really, Bingley, I'm beginning to think you do not want to move at all. Are Mrs. Bennet's bluebells really so interesting to you?"
Bingley was forced to smile at himself. "No, Darcy."
"Then you will speak to your wife?"
"I will try."
"That's not good enough. Before tomorrow evening."
"I say, do we really have to put a date on it?"
"Yes, because if we don't, I will be the one who ends up speaking to her."
"Very well, tomorrow evening it is."
"Good."
Despite his protests, Bingley looked a little relieved. "Well, now that that's settled, old man, what do you say we pop round to my study before dinner and have a drink before we join the ladies?"
Darcy agreed, hoping that the mellowing effects of a little alcohol would remove any inhibitions his friend might have when he broke the news about his cousin's sudden arrival upon the morrow. Sure enough, Darcy had nothing to fear.
"I say, Bingley," he said as they left the study to join the ladies in the sitting room. "Would you mind terribly if my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam came to stay a few weeks on his way down to Dover?"
"Not at all, Darcy. The more the merrier. When does he arrive?"
"Tomorrow."
"Right, just in time for Caroline, then. Jolly good."
Chapter Three
Caroline Bingley winced and grudgingly readjusted her bonnet after the carriage bound for Netherfield had hit a particularly nasty bump. It was so tiresome to travel into the country. One never knew the hideous road conditions one might be forced to encounter.
She wished her brother Charles had not behaved so sentimentally and insisted on staying in Hertfordshire after his wedding, instead of taking his bride up to London as any sensible person would. She hated to think anyone of their acquaintance in Town was suspecting them of vulgar romanticism. Miss Bingley hated many things, but sentimentality was among her least favorites. A studied indifference was the fashion just now, and Miss Bingley would be mortified to be found capable of any quality less admirable.
In actually, however, Miss Bingley was growing rather tired of Town and society. Without the catching of Mr. Darcy to occupy her every thought, London's idle business bored her, and she was growing disenchanted with most of her acquaintance there. Upon her first return to London after the events of the previous autumn, when the failure of her well known conquest for Mr. Darcy's ten thousand a year was finalized by his marriage to another lady, Miss Bingley had dreaded the remarks and contempt of society, especially from those ladies who had even less success with him than she, if one could call it success. But despite all this, Caroline found herself strangely indifferent to her disappointment, and not only because it was fashionable to be so.
She had never regarded Mr. Darcy with any particular feeling, though she did like him and would have made him a good enough wife in her way. But had another man of greater fortune crossed her path whist she still pursued Darcy, she might have easily transferred her "affections" without regret. And now that he was officially won by Miss Eliza Bennet, whom Caroline had always thought she hated, she realized with a little surprise that she could wish them no ill. After all the energies she had invested in the catching of Mr. Darcy, she felt more tired than anything else, and just little twinge of envy whenever she received one of her brother's happy and badly spelled letters.
And then there was the infuriating matter of Colonel Fitzwilliam to consider. She had little thought when they had been seated together by chance at her brother's wedding that he would become such a nuisance to her peace of mind. Before the day of the wedding they had not seen each other in at least a year, and Caroline, owing to the fact he was a younger son, had rarely taken notice of him in her life before. But from that day forward, the Colonel seemed determined to make her life a misery. He had reopened their acquaintance there in the pew by commenting on her very somber expression, and then pretended to think she needed to be informed at great length it was her brother's wedding and not his funeral they were attending. He then made a series of ambiguous comments on the "unique" color of her gown, which Caroline had always thought to be a rather arresting orange. She had left the service more exasperated with Darcy's cousin than upset that he had gotten himself married to another woman.
But removing to London had not saved her from Colonel Fitzwilliam's company, who had also returned there after the wedding to rejoin his regiment. By some odd twist of fate neither of them had expected, they often saw each other out and about Town, and had even been invited, as their families were similarly connected, to a few of the same engagements. At first Miss Bingley had tried to avoid him, and though she had imagined that he disliked her as much as she did him, he was quite persistent in seeking her out at every gathering. He seemed to enjoy making her the unwilling object of his wit. Caroline, who never enjoyed being beaten at anything, soon returned the favor, but instead of getting rid of the Colonel, it seemed to make him seek her out all the more often.
The carriage hit another rut in the road, knocking Miss Bingley's bonnet completely off this time. She rolled her eyes and sighed angrily, thinking how ironic it was that even thoughts of Colonel Fitzwilliam caused unpleasant things to happen. Well, there was nothing to be done. If the man was determined to make himself a nuisance, she would simply have to become better at ignoring him.
At least she need not worry about meeting him in Hertfordshire.
Darcy entered the dinning room early on Thursday morning feeling his mood significantly improved. Yesterday's visit to Longbourn, though he had enjoyed his conversation with Mr. Bennet and even the brief exchange with his sister Mary, had left his mother-in-law's shrill voice ringing in his ears, and the suddenness of Fitzwilliam's letter had then caused him more irritation than it might have otherwise. But there were no plans to see Mrs. Bennet today, and though he would have to face the scowls and distemper of a disappointed Caroline Bingley, the latter was still a vast improvement on his mother-in-law.
Elizabeth had arrived at breakfast before her husband, and was seated at the table pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Good morning again, darling," she said smiling when she looked up and saw him enter.
"Good morning," he replied standing over her chair, and as no one else was in the room, he bent to kiss her as well.
"Did you find those trousers you were looking for earlier?" she asked in a slightly hushed voice as he sat down at the place next to her.
A smile that was markedly mischievous for so early in the morning spread over Darcy's face. "I did indeed."
"And where were they?"
His smile grew into a grin. "Under the bed."
Elizabeth rose her eyebrows. "Were they indeed?"
Darcy leaned closer to her and spoken in a voice just above a whisper. "It appears that in a certain lady's haste to dispense with them last night, they were thrown away and forgotten in such a manner that they managed to find their way underneath the bed."
Elizabeth was obliged to pause her resumed attempts to fill her cup in order to stifle her laughter. "I see. And might that certain lady now offer an apology for her conduct?"
"I wasn't aware there was anything to apologize for."
Elizabeth blushed, feeling they should not be having this conversation in her sister's dining room. "Would you care for some coffee, my love?" she asked in an effort to steer his thoughts elsewhere.
"Please. Where are our hosts this morning?"
Elizabeth sighed for her sister. "Longbourn."
Darcy's expression clearly demonstrated his distaste for the Bingleys' situation. "Again?"
"Apparently my mother could not wait another moment to have Jane's opinion on a particular pattern for the new curtains that are to hang in the sitting room, and so asked her to come round with Bingley, who went early to go out shooting with my father. Cream?"
"No thank you. Well, I wish Jane the best of luck, though I daresay your mother has already firmly made up her mind, no matter what anyone else has to say on the subject. No doubt she will monopolize your poor sister's patience the whole morning. Speaking of monopolizing one's patience, when is Miss Bingley expected?"
"Some time this afternoon, I understand. Sugar?"
"Just a little. In that case, it seems we've been left to amuse ourselves for the morning"
"It would appear so." She handed him his cup and saucer.
Her husband accepted it grinning, very pleased with the combined effect of their hosts' absence and Miss Bingley's forecasted time of arrival. "And what would it please Mrs. Darcy to do with all this spare time?"
Elizabeth, smiling shrewdly, chose to ignore the hint. "It had occurred to me that walking is very beneficial exercise."
"True, my love, but I must admit to having hoped your interests would lie elsewhere."
"And where might that be?" she asked innocently.
Grinning again, he pushed the cup and saucer between them to the middle of the table and leaned in toward her. "Let me refresh your memory."
She returned the smile and leaned in too. "I think I'd like that."
His lips had just claimed hers when a loud banging was heard from the front hall, startling them both. A familiar female voice was then heard shouting commands to the staff, and Darcy and Elizabeth realized with sinking feelings that their time all to themselves had just been cut drastically short.
"I don't care what Mr. Bingley said yesterday, Fosset, I am here now and I want my- oh, hello!" In the midst of her orders Miss Bingley had entered the dinning room to find the Darcys taking breakfast, and as she assessed it, sitting rather closer to each other than was absolutely necessary.
"Miss Bingley," said Darcy standing to acknowledge her.
"Miss Bingley, what a surprise," continued Elizabeth for her husband. "We had not expected you until this afternoon."
"Yes I know," replied Miss Bingley, a little flustered, "but I left London yesterday afternoon earlier than expected, and so had only a few miles to cover this morning. Is my brother here?"
"He is at Longbourn, shooting with my father. Won't you join us for some breakfast? I'm sure you must be hungry."
"Thank you, but I had a little something before I left this morning. I would take a little coffee, though."
Caroline sat down at her usual place in her brother's dinning room, and watching Elizabeth pour her a cup of coffee whilst she was still in her coat and bonnet, felt rather like she was paying a call on the Darcys in her own house. They do look well together, she thought, almost involuntarily. Quickly dismissing her reflections, she reached to untie the ribbon of her bonnet under her chin and accepted the cup Elizabeth handed her.
"Take care, I'm sure it's still very hot."
"Yes, thank you. Forgive me for intruding on your breakfast."
"Not at all. This is your brother's house, after all, Miss Bingley."
"Yes." She took a sip of her coffee, which was quite hot but very welcome all the same, and the pause in the conversation that ensued lasted several moments. Elizabeth looked expectantly at Darcy, who had not uttered a word since acknowledging Miss Bingley's entrance, but he was determined to avoid eye contact. Elizabeth cast a wary glance at Miss Bingley, hoping she was not devising wounding remarks to spring on her unexpectedly, but found the lady as unwilling to meet her look as her husband had been. Clearly, it was up to Mrs. Darcy to do the talking.
Sighing quietly with frustration, Elizabeth began, "Your sister Mrs. Hurst and her husband were well, I hope, when you left London?"
Caroline, who had been studying the coffee in her cup with great energy, looked up to answer the inquiry. "Yes, thank you, very well. They have gone to the Continent, you know."
"Yes, we heard as much from Bingley. I had not before considered them the traveling kind. What prompted them to embark on such an adventure?"
"My brother-in-law's health, I believe. They had tried Bath last winter with no success for his rheumatism."
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."
Both ladies ignored the barely disguised laughter-like sounds then produced by the gentleman.
Miss Bingley cleared her throat politely. "You came on Tuesday, I understand. Did you travel directly from Derbyshire?"
"Yes, we left Pemberley at midday on Monday."
"And are you pleased to be back in Hertfordshire. . ." Caroline paused briefly and swallowed, "Mrs. Darcy?"
Elizabeth could not help a smile at her former rival's faint reluctance to call her by her married name. "I am indeed, Miss Bingley."
"We are not, however, pining over the loss of the militia," said Darcy pointedly, which earned him another harsh look from his better half. Miss Bingley, remembering her ill-timed remarks, flushed a little, which did not go unnoticed by the Darcys, and nor was her slightly subdued manner in replying, "No, I should imagine you are not."
"We find a quieter neighborhood much more to our liking," said Elizabeth hastily, hoping to salvage the situation somewhat.
"Certainly." Miss Bingley cast a wary glance at Darcy, but decided she could not avoid addressing him indefinitely. Shifting herself a little in the chair as to face him she asked, "How does you sister do, Mr. Darcy?"
"Very well, thank you," he replied shortly.
"Is she still at Pemberley?"
"Yes."
"Will she join us here at Netherfield before returning to Town?"
"Yes."
"I'm so glad. When does she arrive?"
"Next week."
Miss Bingley shifted uncomfortably, but made one last attempt. "I shall look forward very much to seeing her again."
"Thank you."
Caroline, who sensed the coldness in his manner and recognized the incommunicativeness she had always been so determined to conquer before, now felt effectively silenced by it. She wished for a moment she had not been so overbearing. Elizabeth, on the other hand, realized with displeasure that her husband had utterly failed his promise to behave civilly to Miss Bingley, and was not anxious to let the awkward interview last any longer than need be. She promptly suggested the three pay a call at Longbourn, so that Miss Bingley might not have to wait any longer to see her brother and Jane. The plan was readily agreed upon, though Darcy assented to come somewhat grudgingly, having hoped to escape Mrs. Bennet for at least four and twenty hours.
But to Longbourn they were to go, and though the company they would meet there was not entirely agreeable, all three were vastly glad when the carriage arrived and the opportunity for conversation with others was made possible.
"How very interesting, Mrs. Bennet. And what other patterns were you considering for the upholstery?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam.
The lady's potentially lengthy answer was interrupted by the announcement of the arrival of the Darcys and Miss Bingley. When they entered the sitting room, everyone in the house with the exception of Mr. Bennet was assembled there. What was unexpected, however, was the presence of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had for the last half hour been engaging Mrs. Bennet in an enthralling conversation about her plans for improvements to Longbourn.
Upon the sight of him, Miss Bingley went very pale with dread, and the gentleman, who seemed to find her reaction to his presence rather amusing, stood to acknowledge her entrance with a knowing grin.
"Fitzwilliam, whatever are you doing here?" asked Darcy of his cousin, who though he had received a warning, was almost as unprepared to see him as Miss Bingley.
The Colonel's charming grin, which he now bestowed on the whole room, clearly demonstrated his enjoyment of the surprise his early arrival had occasioned. "Ah, I thought you might ask me that. Well, you see Darcy, I found myself in Meryton much earlier this morning than I expected, and whilst I was wondering what I should do with myself, I had the good fortune to run into Miss Catherine Bennet, who was kind enough to invite me back to Longbourn."
Darcy raised his eyebrows, marveling at his cousin's knack for getting out of difficult situations. "How kind of Miss Kitty."
"Yes," agreed the Colonel, favoring Kitty with his handsome smile. "She is most generous."
Miss Bingley scoffed quietly and rolled her eyes. The Colonel was a great flirt, and the Bennet girls had clearly not yet rid their thoughts entirely of officers.
"Oh, the Colonel is such a fine gentleman!" burst out Mrs. Bennet. "He was entertaining us a moment ago with stories of India."
Darcy's brow furrowed. "But you've never been to India, Fitzwilliam."
"Oh, I know that, old chap. I was telling them how many officers' balls I should attend if I were to go to India, and how the girls there could have nothing to our own fine English ladies."
Miss Bingley, who could stand no more of the Colonel's idle and flippant manner of expressing himself, went off huffily to greet her brother, and thus the whole party broke into smaller factions for the sake of conversation.
Elizabeth had made sure to secure a seat next to her husband in a place where they would not be overheard by her mother, and addressed her comments to him in a lowered voice. "Fitzwilliam, you did not keep your promise about Miss Bingley."
"What promise was that, my dear?"
Elizabeth sighed in frustration. "Your promise to be civil to her."
"Oh, that promise." Darcy shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat, his manner guilty. "I forgot."
"Forgot?"
"Well, yes! I can't help it. The woman brings out the worst in me."
"The worst? She made polite inquires after your sister and expressed, as far as I can tell, a genuine desire to see her again."
"Genuine? I can assure you, Elizabeth, she does not mean it."
"And how can you be so certain? Really, my love, she's quite harmless. You ought to give her another chance."
"To make a conquest of me? I think it's rather late for that, dear wife."
"That is not what I meant, and you know it."
They sat in a slightly brooding silence for a few minutes, both unwilling to be at odds with one another but unsure how to reverse the direction of the conversation. What they did not know, was that Mrs. Bennet, though she had not heard a word of it, had witnessed the whole exchange, and immediately began to worry about the likelihood of an heir at Pemberley. Clearly, she must have another talk with Lizzy at the first opportunity.
Meanwhile, Mary's book lay untouched in her lap. Her eyes had been too busy following her brother-in-law Mr. Darcy with fascination about the room.
Miss Bingley exchanged greetings with her brother and sister-in-law, who were glad enough to see her, but whose attentions were soon called away by the demands of Mrs. Bennet. Seeing Miss Bingley thus unattended, Colonel Fitzwilliam approached to speak with her. Immediately discerning the mischievous smile on his face, Caroline was determined to ward off any sally he was about to deliver at her expense, and asked him curtly, "What exactly is it you're doing in Hertfordshire, Colonel?"
"Did you not hear me explain myself to Darcy just now? I was certain I saw you scoffing at me."
"Yes, I heard how you answered Mr. Darcy, but you gave no explanation for your visit. I want to know what it is."
"The possibility of encountering Miss Bennets in Meryton was not sufficient for you? Miss Kitty did tell me some very amusing stories of how she plans to spend her upcoming season in Town. She intends to secure an invitation from one of her sisters, though I must confess I seriously doubt the likelihood of her success with Darcy."
Feeling no good will toward Mr. Darcy after their earlier encounter, Miss Bingley agreed with a scowl. "You are probably right. Poor girl, I'm sure she'll never hear the end of it from her mother if she is not in London for at least a month of the season. But you still have not answered my question."
"No, you are right. Do you want the sensible answer, or the answer that will vex you?"
"Colonel Fitzwilliam, as you have a talent for vexing me no matter what you do, you had better give me both."
Her remark must have amused him, for he smiled knowingly. "Then you shall have them both, ma'am. The sensible answer is that I am visiting my cousins before my departure in three weeks for Dover with my regiment, and the answer that will vex you is that my other motivation in coming was to observe how the fashionable Miss Bingley behaves in the country."
"What?"
He continued to smile, this time obviously pleased with himself. "It's quite true. If you don't mind my saying so, Miss Bingley, I find you a fascinating individual, and when you told me you were leaving Town to visit your brother, I could not resist the temptation to follow you to Hertfordshire. I thought that surely here, where the aura of London would be stripped away, I might be able to determine at last what it is that makes you tick."
Caroline did not know what exactly it was she had expected him to say, but it was certainly not this, and she found herself at a loss for a moment how to reply. Was he teasing her again? The look on his face certainly suggested as much. Did he think this was all a game? What sort of man traveled all that way merely to play another joke on a woman whose tastes and pursuits he obviously thought so trivial? And what on earth had he meant by "fascinating?"
He was right about one thing, however. His reply had vexed her. "Well Colonel Fitzwilliam," she said when she had found her voice again, "what is your success thus far?"
His expression turned pensive. "Well, after the first five minutes I can conclude one thing for certain."
"And that is?"
"That you will be less than pleased when I tell you I am to be a guest at your brother's house."
Sitting behind the desk in his study, Bingley quickly downed a glass of brandy for courage, and then rose to go in search of his wife. The time to address the subject he had been dreading mentioning to her had come, and he was going to need all the fortification a man could come by.
It wasn't that he was concerned Jane would be angry with him, indeed, it was quite possible he had never seen her angry before. His concern was that his feelings on the subject would sadden her, and for that he would feel himself a dreadful cad. But with his mother-in-law's shrill voice ringing in his ears, Bingley knew he must do something before both he and Jane were driven absolutely mad.
As he neared the conservatory and heard someone's movements within, accompanied by soft a humming Bingley recognized as Jane's, he stopped and steadied himself before entering. "Approach this manner as Darcy would," he counseled himself. "Calmly, rationally and firmly. Courteous but resolved. Right. Here we go then."
He entered the conservatory attempting to mimic his friend's determined stride, but found it less than functional when he faltered and knocked over a basket full of gardening instruments. Cursing himself, he stooped to replace the scattered tools in the basket, and Jane, who had been alerted to his presence by the great clattering his disruption of the basket had occasioned, came over to assist him.
"Charles, are you all right?" she asked, setting down her watering can and bending to help him.
"Yes, of course, Jane. Just a bit of a dunce."
She bestowed a pitying but affectionate smile on him, and when he had returned all the tools to their proper place, she lifted the basket and placed it where it had been positioned before.
"There. Not to worry. Nothing harmed." She reached up to kiss his cheek. She turned to go back to her watering, but Bingley caught her hand and made her face him. She looked at him smiling, waiting for what he might have to say to her, and Bingley took a deep breath before he began.
"I feel as if I've hardly seen you these last three days. How are you, my love?"
Jane's smile warmed and she pressed his hand fondly. "Very well, Charles."
"Do you like having your sister here with us?"
"Yes, very much, and my dear brother Darcy too, of course."
"I am glad to hear it, Jane."
She made another effort to return to her work, but he stopped her again. "Jane?"
"Yes, Charles?"
"Does Netherfield please you?"
Her countenance clouded for a moment, uncertain what he meant by the question. "Yes, of course. You know it does, Charles."
"Yes, I know," he said, looking down at his shifting his feet and wondering what to say next.
"We have so many happy memories here," Jane continued encouragingly, wondering if he was harboring any doubts about her approval of the estate she knew he was so fond of and what she had done to make him think so.
"Yes, of course we do," he replied, hoping she was not about to get sentimental and make him feel very guilty for having brought up the subject at all.
A brief silence followed, in which both of them searched for something to say which might produce a revelatory reply in the other. Finally Jane, seeing her husband was apparently preoccupied, took matters into her own hands.
"Are you happy here, Charles?"
"Yes, certainly, my dear, never better! Netherfield's a fine place and all that, and there's no better hunting in Hertfordshire, but. . ."
"But?" asked Jane anxiously, hoping he was not about to say that he would be prepared to leave Netherfield simply because she was frustrated with the nearness of her family.
Bingley shifted his feet again, anxious for his own reasons. "Well, you see, it's like this, Jane. We're still only tenants here, and someday, perhaps in the very distant future, I daresay we both should like very much to own our own estate outright."
"Naturally, someday."
"Right. And that estate could either be Netherfield or . . ."
"Someplace else."
"Right." Bingley looked at his wife expectantly, not a little concerned as to how she might respond. Did she understand his implication? Did she mind his having even broached the subject? But as usual when Jane was contemplating serious matters, her face was placid and reserved.
"What do you think?" he asked finally, when the tension of her silence became too much for him.
"About the possibility of someday living elsewhere?"
"Yes. . ."
Jane paused to reflect before she answered. She must plan her words carefully, in order to at once express her gratitude for his having been so concerned about her feelings on the subject, and to assure him that they need not leave Netherfield if he was unwilling. Taking hold of his hand once more, she said, "Charles, I want you to be happy, and whatever place makes you happiest, I want to be there too."
Bingley breathed a sigh of relief, though he wasn't entirely sure about her meaning. Progress enough for now, though. "Thank you, my dear."
"So that's settled then."
"Yes, I think so." He kissed her cheek. "Must run along, things to attend to before dinner."
"Of course, darling." Favoring him with another smile, though still a somewhat confused one, Jane then returned to her watering. Bingley began to make his way toward the conservatory door, but before he reached it, her voice called him back again.
"Charles?"
"Yes, my dear?"
Jane turned back to face him, watering can in hand. "Are you sure there wasn't something else you wished to say to me?"
Caught off guard by her perception, Bingley faltered a moment, and in his hesitation lost all the courage he might have had to address the predicament in which they found themselves over Mrs. Bennet.
"No, nothing, Jane. I'll be up to dress for dinner at seven."
It had been agreed that morning at Longbourn that the Bennets and Mr. Weldonpool, who had already been engaged to dine with them that evening, should instead come to Netherfield for dinner. Elizabeth, who had finished dressing rather earlier than usual, came down the steps at a quarter past seven to find that those from Longbourn had not yet arrived, and that everyone else in the house had not come down.
Standing in the front hall, she was on the verge of going to the library in search of a book to amuse herself with until the others appeared when the sound of billiard balls knocking against each other caught her attention. Knowing immediately that it was her husband, Elizabeth wondered a moment if she ought to go in and speak to him. They had not spoken much since their return to Netherfield that afternoon, and were still rather at odds from their disagreement over Miss Bingley. Though she still thought he was in the wrong, Elizabeth did not wish to remain angry with him, and considered going in to make amends. Would he mind an interruption of his game?
Her question was answered when she saw Darcy emerge of his own accord from the billiard room, shrugging on his coat as he did so. "I thought I heard your footsteps in the hall," he said, smiling faintly at her.
She returned it. "You have found me out."
He reached for her hand. "I'm sorry I was such a brute this morning, to you and to Miss Bingley. I hope you know it was only because her coming made me disagreeable, and generally I'm not very good at hiding that particular sentiment."
She laughed a little and pressed his hand. "Yes, I know."
"I promise to be better behaved in the future."
"I'm glad to hear it. And I will be more understanding."
"Then you forgive me?"
"Without reservation."
"Good."
"Shall we kiss and make up?" she asked with a teasing smile.
"I'd like that." He bent to kiss her. "Hmm," he said when they had parted. "You should forgive me more often."
Laughing she pulled him toward her again, this time for a longer kiss, and it was in this entwined state that Mrs. Bennet spotted them from her position in the doorway as she entered the house. She had come ahead of the rest of her party to secure Jane's final opinion on a few of her infamous improvements, but had not expected to be greeted by such a sight upon her arrival. They were quite on the opposite side of the room, and had not heard her enter, and Mrs. Bennet was perfectly content to leave them unaware of her presence. Clearly, things were looking more optimistic from this morning's tiff in her sitting room. Well done, Lizzy thought Mrs. Bennet. Never let a man brood too long. And with that, Mrs. Bennet went in search of her eldest.
Dinner that evening was an interesting affair. Nearly everyone met Mr. Weldonpool for the first time. He was found to be an awkward, lanky young man, who scarcely spoke unless spoken to and blushed like a schoolboy whenever he was addressed. He had a very large nose with a very red tip, which made it especially difficult for anyone to take him seriously. Most of the party, when they had discovered him insipid and with hardly anything to say for himself, were content to ignore him.
Miss Bingley wished she could ignore the Colonel. As it so happened, he had been placed next to her at dinner, and she was sure he would find all manner of ways to vex and exasperate her.
His beginning, however, was surprising. "You look very well this evening, Miss Bingley."
Caroline eyed him suspiciously but thanked him for the compliment. He smiled, amused at her hesitation. "Do you distrust me, Miss Bingley?"
"Only in those matters which you ought not to be trusted."
"Such as?"
"Compliments."
He laughed. "Well, I can assure you mine was sincere. I hope you've forgiven me for staying at Netherfield."
"I could manage it much better if I had already forgiven you for coming to Hertfordshire."
"Oh dear. I had not realized I was so far behind. You know, Miss Bingley, I'm not so bad a chap as you make me out to be. I have some first rate qualities, if you would but take the trouble to discover them. You really ought to give me a proper chance."
"Do you think so?"
"I do indeed."
Caroline thought a moment. He could be rather amusing at times, and he certainly wasn't horrid. And he does have rather a lovely smile. . . she thought, quite involuntarily.
"Very well, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Pour me a glass of wine, and I daresay I'll consider it."
Meanwhile, Kitty was having somewhat less success in persuading her eldest sisters to see her point of view. She had been delighted to discover upon entering the dining room that instead of being placed next to the odious Mr. Weldonpool as she always was at Longbourn, she was seated between Jane and Elizabeth.
At first Kitty had thought it an excellent opportunity to address them both about her scheme for the season, but as dinner wore on and neither of her sisters seemed particularly interested, Kitty began to loose hope of securing any invitation at all. Jane was reserved and unusually distracted, pushing her food round her plate and sighing occasionally, and Elizabeth kept looking over across the table to exchange knowing looks with Mr. Darcy. This invitation was going to be decidedly more difficult to come by than Kitty had previously thought.
While her younger sister sulked in her seat, Mary was having quite a different sort of evening. She had been very surprised, and secretly delighted, to find herself beside her brother-in-law Mr. Darcy for dinner, and had perhaps blushed more in the first five minutes of their conversation than she had in the whole course of her life. No gentleman had ever taken as kind an interest in her as Mr. Darcy did before, and she found herself strangely captivated by every word that came out of his mouth.
"How are you this evening, Mary? You do not object to my calling you Mary, I hope?"
"No, of course not. We are brother and sister now. I am very well, sir."
He smiled at her. "I am glad to here it. I suppose you have finished Fordyce since we last spoke?"
"Yes, though I do read it quite often."
"Do you indeed? Then he is a particular favorite."
Mary nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, indeed."
After a brief pause he asked, "Do you ever read poetry, Mary?"
Mary was slightly caught off guard by his question and wrinkled her brow. "Poetry, sir?"
He laughed a little. "Yes, poetry. I assume you know what it is?"
Mary blushed and wished fervently she had not sounded so foolish. "Of course I do."
He smiled. "Forgive me, but your answer was such that I could not resist teasing you a little. Blame your sister Elizabeth if you like. Teasing is a skill I have been forced to learn in order to defend myself." Mary watched as his glance traveled across the table to rest on that lady, and she felt a strange twinge of envy when her sister looked up and returned Darcy's warm smile. Mary wished for a brief moment there was someone to smile at her like that.
Shaking her head in hopes of aiding the return of rational thoughts, Mary answered his question as she ought to have before. "I rarely read poetry, Mr. Darcy, unless you include the Psalms. I find much of it trivial and needlessly sentimental."
Darcy returned his attention and looks to her. "Even heroic verse? Do you classify Homer and Virgil as sentimentalists, Mary?"
She blushed again and stuttered her reply. "No, no of course not. I. . . I assumed you were speaking strictly of more recent efforts."
He smiled. "I confess I was. I would expect you have already read every epic worth reading. But you don't like poetry?"
Mary felt as though she would never stop blushing, but looking down at the table and speaking in a small voice she managed to say, "I suppose I might learn to like it, if you would guide me. . ."
Darcy was surprised but pleased by her answer, and wondered off handedly what he had done to put her in what seemed to be a constant state of timid embarrassment. "Well, I'd certainly be happy to be of assistance, Mary. You might start with a little Byron, perhaps some Shelley. . ."
For the next quarter of an hour, Mary found herself more interested in the Romantics than she ever had been before.
The evening passed without further incident, and the company assembled found themselves enjoying the Bingleys' hospitality despite the number of little conflicts which might have arisen between them. All the same, when it was time to retire, everyone went gratefully to their beds, wondering what might happen upon the morrow.