Mrs. Bingley’s Sister (The Austen Novels)

Chapter 16

August 1816

Netherfield Park

Hertfordshire

Darcy felt the carriage come to a halt. He had arrived at Netherfield after about four days of traveling. It was well before a fortnight; in fact, it had only been a sennight since he wrote Bingley, so he arrived much earlier than anyone might have anticipated. He glanced out the window of the carriage and saw curtains fluttering behind a window on Netherfield first floor, then, after a moment, the front doors opened, and Bingley came bounding down the steps.

Darcy was let out of the carriage just as Bingley arrived to greet him.

"Darcy, you're here!" Bingley cried, a grand beaming smile on his face, "I was so surprised when Smith showed up a few hours ago to ready your room. You're earlier than we expected, to be sure, but all the better!"

They finished their greetings and began walking into the house. Bingley began chattering away, a mile a minute, as they made their way into the house.

"Mr. Bingley? Is Mr. Darcy here?" a serene voice sounded from up the grand stairwell ahead. Darcy looked up to see the lovely Mrs. Bingley, beautiful and angelic as usual, looking the same as he last had seen her but for her obvious expecting of a child soon. Bingley clamored ecstatically.

"Indeed, Darcy has joined us! And much sooner than we could have anticipated, my darling!"

Mrs. Bingley merely smiled and started to make her way slowly down the staircase, but Bingley hurriedly left Darcy's side to meet his wife on the stair.

"Do not overexert yourself, my dear," he said gently as he offered her an arm to accompany her down the stairs the rest of the way.

"Thank you," she said to him with a serene smile, "Between you and Elizabeth, I shall always have someone to check me when I am too lively these next many weeks."

Hearing the sound of Elizabeth's name made Darcy's heart pound, and he tried to keep his countenance expressionless as he bowed and greeted Mrs. Bingley, who now stood before him on the first floor.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Bingley," he said, "You look well."

"As do you, sir," Mrs. Bingley answered with a smile. Bingley looked at her.

"Say, where's Elizabeth? I am sure she would want to greet our guest," the man said, and Darcy noticed Jane's face colored a slightly pink hue as her smile faltered for yet a short moment, before she resumed her smile and answered, "I think she is with the children right now. Mr. Darcy, you may have to forgive us for not receiving you properly."

Darcy bowed his head slightly and said, "It is no matter, no matter at all. In fact, I shall retire to my chambers, if you do not mind, and I shall see everyone for dinner, perhaps?"

Mrs. Bingley nodded, and Bingley clapped him on the back and said, "You'll stay in the same room you always have. I daresay, you remember the way there, do you not?"

The man let out a laugh, which made Darcy smile slightly as a he nodded. "Indeed, I do remember the way."

He bowed once more to Mrs. Bingley and then ascended up the stairs, but he hadn't quite made it to the top before a familiar, feminine voice rang out in the corridor—

"Jane? Whose carriage was that I saw going to the stables? Was it Mr. Darcy's—"

Darcy turned at the sound of Elizabeth saying his name, which had cut off abruptly, and he saw she had come to a halt, her eyes on him, a surprised expression on her face. Her hair was tousled from having been outside, her face was flushed, her cheeks ruddy, her eyes brightened from the exercise—she looked no different from that fateful morning at Netherfield so many years before, when she arrived into the breakfast parlor after having walked three miles from Longbourn to attend to her sister.

Darcy felt the same way now as he did then: that he was looking at the handsomest woman of all his acquaintance. Darcy's breath caught as he and Elizabeth locked eyes for a mere moment, before Bingley's jovial laugh caught her attention, and she tore her eyes away from his.

"Yes, it indeed is our friend Darcy!" Bingley said with a laugh, "And where have you been? Jane, you said she was with the children!"

Darcy didn't look at the others, he kept his eyes only on Elizabeth, who colored but smiled and shook her head.

"Oh no, I have been out on a walk, for some time now," she said, and then to Darcy's delight she looked back at him and curtsied. "Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy."

He tipped his head in a small bow from his place on the stairwell, "Miss Bennet."

He hadn't said her name aloud in what felt like an age—three years was a long time when it passed slowly, every day involving some form or other of longing for Elizabeth mixed with the distractions and diversions of business and estate life. Elizabeth smiled at him, but then she cast her eyes downward for a moment and turned back to the Bingleys.

"I shall have to retire, then, and properly ready myself for dinner," she said, and then to Darcy's surprise she moved past the Bingleys and headed up the stairwell in his direction. "I shall accompany you, Mr. Darcy, as your chambers are in the wing I shall pass on the way to my own."

Darcy swallowed but recovered quickly and offered her his arm. To his silent elation, she took it, and they together finished the ascent up the stairs.

"It has been many a year since you last stayed at Netherfield," she said, "I do know Mr. Bingley is exceedingly pleased to have you come."

"Indeed, it has not been since the baby's christening," he said, and she gave a light laugh.

"When we say 'the baby' now, sir, we are referring to little Charlie—Lizzy is nearly four years old!"

He smiled sheepishly. "And there shall soon be a new baby, I suppose."

She nodded, still smiling. "Indeed. There is a wager, of sorts, on whether the babe will be a boy or a girl. You can very well imagine Mr. Bingley's bet."

Darcy laughed. "He believes it is a young lad to be born, no doubt."

"Oh yes," she said, "Already having an heir, he now believes he is getting a spare."

They had arrived at the wing where Darcy's old familiar chambers were. They stood together for just a moment, she still on his arm, until she pulled away suddenly, her eyes cast down.

"I believe this is your wing, sir," she said quietly, barely looking at him now.

"Thank you for accompanying me, Miss Bennet," he said slowly after a moment. He bowed a little, and she curtsied in return, only glancing up at him briefly before turning on her heel and walking on.

He wistfully stared after her as she disappeared around the corner, and then he finally turned to go to his chambers. There was a maid coming out of the door, whom he let pass before he moved through the doorway.

His room had the same familiarity of it from all those years ago when he accompanied Bingley here for the first time. It smelled the same, the bed looked the same, everything was the same.

But nothing was the same.

Bingley was no longer a bachelor; he was a married man with a third child on the way. Miss Elizabeth was no longer Miss Elizabeth, but instead Miss Bennet, and she lived here, not at Longbourn. The days he stayed for the christening he barely saw Elizabeth, as she had been busy with the new baby. This was an altogether different kind of visit, one that might possibly be his second chance at getting to know Miss Bennet and endearing himself to her—

He shook his head and tried to focus as his valet, Smith, entered to help him undress.

“Are you well this evening, sir?”

“I'm sure you know how well I am.”

The valet tutted, making Darcy shake his head with a small smile. “Go on, say whatever it is you want to say.”

“Why, sir, I do not know what you mean.”

“Smith.”

“As you wish, sir—all I have to say is that you should wear the green.”

Darcy laughed. Smith smiled a little and said with a shrug, “You look the most handsome in the green—it brings out your eyes. Or so all the maids at Pemberley tell me, that is.”

Darcy always rolled his eyes at his valet's teasing ways, but always ended up letting Smith dress him as he thought best. All Darcy knew was he didn't want to overthink anything now that he was here at Netherfield. He needed to be calm and let things take their course in a natural way, with nothing forced. He needed to take everything with Elizabeth one step at a time, and not a pace faster.

But if wearing a color that complimented his appearance helped, he wouldn't disallow it.