Chapter 2
Elizabeth frowned and said, “You think that is what Mr. Bingley wants?”
Mrs. Bennet shrugged and said, “I do not know. Your father describes Mr. Bingley as handsome and charming, but not particularly clever. He might have all sorts of vices.”
“Or he might not?” Elizabeth suggested, though gently.
Her mother shook her head, appearing unconvinced, and said, “Or he might not. I am aware that I am feeling paranoid about this situation, my darling, but I do worry about you because of your fortune, and for Jane as well.”
“I suppose I understand your concern about me, as I could eventually be the target of fortune hunters, but why Jane?”
Her mother took a sip of tea and then said, “I never met the first Mrs. Bennet, but I know she was incredibly handsome, and Jane takes after her. I love Jane as if she were my own, but she is rather too inclined to like people in general, and to trust that the outward appearance of a man is an exact representation of his heart. You and I know better.”
Elizabeth considered thoughtfully. It was true that Jane was the loveliest girl in the area and also looked on the world with a benevolent and trusting gaze.
Elizabeth, for all that she was not truly Mr. Bennet’s daughter, seemed to have absorbed her stepfather’s cynicism.
Of course, in spite of Jane’s very great beauty, she was two and twenty and not yet married, but then there were few eligible gentlemen in Hertfordshire, and she only had a dowry of some four thousand pounds, not a significant lure.
Longbourn was entailed away from the female line, and no son had been born to inherit, so…
“I can take care of you and my sisters after Father dies,” she said suddenly.
“You can, it is true,” her mother agreed, “though clearly it is not your responsibility.”
“I love you and all my sisters, Mamma. Of course I will gladly take care of you,” she continued, feeling more confident. “Indeed, I have enough money that I could arrange for all of us to have a Season in London.”
Her mother cringed noticeably at these words, and Elizabeth said, “You do not wish for that?”
Mrs. Bennet sighed deeply, wrinkled her nose, and then said, “I do not know, my darling. My experience with the haut ton was poor, but my situation was different. If you wish to … well, I think we need not discuss that for now. If you want to have a Season next year, we can likely arrange it. At the moment, I believe you should start to adjust to the fact that you will soon be very rich and have a great many options.”
***
Drawing Room
Netherfield Hall
Monday, 14th October 1811
The architect of Netherfield Hall had designed the house for either a large family or a master and mistress who enjoyed entertaining.
The common rooms especially showed this, with grand proportions, plenty of natural light, and windows that opened onto what could easily be pleasing views.
The drawing room was no exception to this, and its broad interior, high ceiling, elegant wainscoting, and massive fireplace managed to be welcoming despite the outdated and rather shabby furniture and the pervasive chill that even the blazing fire could not displace.
There was, at least, no dust; the servants had accomplished that much, even with their depleted numbers.
In its glory days, Netherfield had boasted more than a dozen or so domestic staff, but with no master or mistress in residence, the staff had dropped to a mere housekeeper, butler, and a maid and footman or two.
This would have to be rectified, and quickly, for Netherfield Hall once again boasted a family in residence.
Two ladies sat beside the fire, similar enough in form and feature to indicate that they were relations.
One bore a lace cap atop her dark hair, marking her as a matron, though her unlined face showed that she was not an old one, and her sister was a few years younger yet.
A tea service sat on the table before them, with a teapot and cups and scones.
The door opened to reveal a very tall young lady, and Caroline Bingley cried out, “Come in, come in, Miss Darcy, and sit down! I have ordered tea, and while the furnishings in this room are rather drab, they are at least comfortable.”
Serena Darcy obediently walked in, sat down across from Miss Bingley and Louisa Hurst, and said, “My brother and sister have not come down yet, I presume?”
“I expect them any moment,” Miss Bingley said.
Serena waited as her hostess poured tea for her and then added a lump of sugar. She accepted the cup of tea gratefully and took a pleasingly hot sip.
“Brrr. It is rather cold in here,” Charles Bingley declared, walking into the room with Serena’s brother and sister behind him. “Ought we to add some more wood to the fire, Caroline?”
“Louisa added two logs only a short time ago,” Caroline said, rising gracefully to her feet and smiling at the two other Darcys. “But come, sit down, all of you, and have some hot tea. I hope that the fire will warm the room more fully in the next few minutes.”
Georgiana hastily sat down next to Serena, while Fitzwilliam wandered over to stand near the fire, though he took a position which did not block the heat from the ladies.
Serena smiled at this. Her brother was, perhaps, even more awkward than she in company, but he was at heart a selfless man and determined to consider the comfort of those around him.
“I do apologize that the furniture is rather shabby,” Caroline Bingley said as she poured more tea. “Charles, if you intend to stay here for long, we simply must have new chairs.”
Charles Bingley was a cheerful, agreeable soul, and he said, “I daresay that can be arranged, Caroline.”
“What do you think, Miss Darcy?” Mrs. Hurst asked, turning to look on the elder Darcy daughter. “Pemberley is so very remarkable in its furnishings, and I hope that you are willing to provide your insight as to how best to improve Netherfield Hall.”
Serena said, “Georgiana is far better able to give good advice on that topic. She has a wonderful eye.”
“Oh,” Georgiana exclaimed, “I am not … that is…”
“Nonsense, dear sister,” Serena said warmly. “Just think of that lovely sitting room at Pemberley which you and Fitzwilliam intend to fix up next year, the one next to the music room? I know you plan on substantial alterations there.”
Georgiana turned pink and nodded. “Yes, that sitting room is very conveniently located, and yet it has not been refurbished in years. I know it will look far better.”
“What alterations are you carrying out?” Miss Bingley asked, turning her gaze on Georgiana.
“Oh, well, the curtains will be changed from a mustard yellow to peach, and…”
Serena waited until she was certain that Georgiana and Bingley’s sisters were happily talking and then leaned back to think.
She was pleasantly tired from the journey from London that morning.
Traveling did not make her ill, but neither did she much enjoy it, usually.
Today was an exception, for they had been leaving London behind.
Serena disliked traveling, but she disliked crowded, noisy, smelly London even more.
In Town, one could rarely avoid the noise of carriage wheels, or drunk young bucks stumbling home at all hours of the night, or boxing the Watch, or the ubiquitous urchins.
The smell was equally pervasive; anywhere outside the nicest streets; one could not entirely elude the odor of tens of thousands of humans living in close quarters among cold, hard stone and wood.
Still, one could escape the smell, and the buildings, and the noise, in one’s own private garden. If that did not suffice, one could go to Hyde Park or Vauxhall Gardens for a time. There were options for taking the air and enjoying a more pastoral scenery.
In the spring, the air of London grew far pleasanter but was replaced by truly onerous and inescapable expectations.
A lady could hardly hide from those in Hyde Park, the very purpose of which often seemed to see and be seen, with a hundred acquaintances stopping to chat.
No reprieve was to be found in one’s own house.
There, if anything, one’s duties lay heavier, for one could not bow to an acquaintance and continue on.
A lady, after all, must receive morning-callers, and entertain her guests for half an hour before the next set arrived.
She must be fully conversant on such polite subjects as fashion, and Mozart and Beethoven, pianofortes and harps and guitars, the latest plays and operas, and all the most recent fashions.
Nor could the lady of fashion be through when these duties were completed.
When her own guests left, she must retire upstairs, but only long enough to don her visiting dress and fashionable hat.
Then she too must venture forth, to inflict her presence on some other hostess who had to smile and maintain an unending flow of polite chitchat, concealing her true opinions of her visitor, whatever they may be.
Serena detested the entire prospect. She had no close friends besides her siblings, whom she adored.
Certainly she did not count Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley in such a category.
Still, the two women were kind to the Darcy sisters, in their own way, and were at least familiar.
They were also very much women of fashion, and though Serena sometimes found this tiresome, there was one aspect to their habits that she appreciated immensely; neither lady was inclined to rise early, preferring to keep Town hours even in the country.
Serena, who by habit and preference rarely rose much after dawn, anticipated with pleasure many morning hours in which to occupy herself with her own pursuits uninterrupted by vacuous discussions on the latest mode.
“Oh, Charles!” Miss Bingley cried out, distracting Serena from her own thoughts. “Surely you cannot mean it! An assembly in a town like Meryton will be most unrefined. There is no need for us to attend!”
Bingley frowned and said, “You need not attend, Sister, but I certainly will. Now that I am master of Netherfield
Hall, I wish to know more of my neighbors, and the assembly will be a wonderful place to meet them.”
“What do you think, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley asked, turning an eager and hopeful look toward her distinguished male guest. “Do you not agree that this assembly will likely be a hodgepodge of country squires and their vulgar wives and daughters? Surely you would not wish to be present at such an engagement?”
“I do not particularly wish to attend, no, but that is only because I am uncomfortable in the presence of those whom I have not yet met. But Bingley is correct that, as master of the largest estate in the area, he has a responsibility to meet his neighbors.”
“You are certainly welcome to stay home if you like, Darcy,” Bingley said.
Serena looked at her brother gravely. She well knew that he was actually a rather shy man and would dislike attending such an assembly. On the other hand, it was part of his duty as a gentleman to circulate among society.
“I will go,” Darcy said, “though I may ride separately so I may leave early if necessary.”
“And what of you, Miss Darcy, Miss Georgiana?” Miss Bingley asked, turning an eager look on the younger ladies. “Would you care to accompany us?”
“No,” Serena said promptly and happily. “We are not out, so of course we will not attend.”
“Oh, but surely a country assembly is quite a different matter,” Mrs. Hurst cried out. “I daresay many of the country girls in this locale were out at fifteen and sixteen!”
“All the same, neither of my sisters will be attending,” Darcy said firmly, and Serena looked at him gratefully, even as her heart quivered unpleasantly in her chest. This autumn was her last reprieve from dancing and parties, as she was to be launched into the haut ton the following spring.
She found it a horrible prospect, but there was no way out, not for the well-dowered and well-connected Miss Darcy of Pemberley.