Chapter 7
Drawing Room
Netherfield Park
The Next Morning
“What a lovely design for a table,” Miss Bingley said, hanging over Georgiana Darcy, who was sketching on a piece of foolscap at a desk in the corner of the room.
“Thank you,” Georgiana said shyly.
Serena glanced up briefly and returned to her book.
She was slowly but steadily working her way through The American Practical Navigator.
Admittedly, it was in many ways beyond her understanding, but it fired her imagination to think of those brave, clever sailors out upon the seas with only the moon and stars to guide their way.
The mathematics involved were fascinating, though Serena was happy that her life would never depend on understanding them.
She was content to read of stars and seas and complex formulas and equations while curled up comfortably beside a pleasant fire.
“It is far better than Miss Grantley’s design,” Miss Bingley said, walking away from Georgiana to take a chair nearer the hearth. “You truly are so very gifted, Miss Georgiana!”
“Thank you,” Georgiana repeated softly.
Serena's brow wrinkled in annoyance. It was not that Miss Bingley was technically incorrect.
Georgiana was undeniably gifted in designing tables, along with being skilled at sketching and painting, and her talent for music was well known within the family.
As for her disposition, all who had the pleasure of meeting her universally agreed that she was quite one of the sweetest, quietest girls of their acquaintance.
It was not the demonstrable truth of Miss Bingley's observations that grated upon Serena's nerves, but more the tone of her comments.
She was ingratiating, overly effusive in her praise, too quick to compliment.
It was not as egregious with Mrs. Hurst, who was less forward than her younger sister, but she too was swift to praise Georgiana's every accomplishment and effort.
Serena found it quite strange. Why did Bingley's sisters wish to curry the favor of the younger Miss Darcy and not the older?
Not that they were ever rude to Serena, but they did not compliment her endlessly.
Of course, Serena was not adept at those skills which were considered vital for members of the ton.
The door opened to reveal the butler, who entered the room with six unfamiliar ladies at his heels.
“Mrs. Bennet and the Misses Bennet,” the man announced and withdrew.
Serena and Georgiana rose to their feet, and Serena regarded the newcomers with interest. Mrs. Bennet appeared somewhat more than forty years of age, and her dark red tresses were streaked with silver.
Four of her daughters were red-headed like she, though the tint varied from golden red to auburn.
The remaining young lady, who looked to be the eldest, could well be the most beautiful creature Serena had ever seen in her life.
She was of perfect height, with perfectly blue eyes, and perfectly blonde hair, a straight nose, rosebud lips, and gently flushed cheeks.
Serena remembered that Mr. Bingley had mentioned Miss Bennet the previous day at breakfast and had promised not to make a marriage offer to the lady in the next few weeks.
Seeing Miss Bennet, Serena now understood that remark completely. She was truly lovely.
She was also, Serena thought cynically, likely boastful and tiresome, as most truly beautiful women were.
She realized she was missing the initial introductions and focused in time to hear Mrs. Bennet finish, “… Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia.”
“Please, will you not introduce your friends to us,” Georgiana said aloud, and Serena winced inwardly.
As the elder Darcy daughter, it was her responsibility to ask for introductions, but Georgiana, for all her shyness, was far better at remembering the little niceties which society said were so important and that Serena thought so tedious.
“Of course,” Miss Bingley said. “Miss Darcy, Miss Georgiana, may I please introduce you to Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia. Ladies, Miss Darcy and Miss Georgiana Darcy.”
The ladies curtseyed to one another, and Mrs. Hurst said, “Please sit down, all of you, and we will call for tea.”
The Bennet ladies obediently distributed themselves around the room, and Serena was thankful to take her seat again. She generally felt awkward when meeting newcomers because she loomed over almost all ladies and even many gentlemen.
“May I ask what book you are reading?” the second Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, asked curiously.
Serena lifted the book to show the spine and waited.
Miss Elizabeth frowned and said, “Practical Navigator … is this book about using astronomy to safely sail the oceans?”
Serena felt her eyes widen, and she leaned forward. “Yes! Have you read the book?”
“I have not, but I think I have heard … yes, Nathaniel Bowditch is the author. My father mentioned him more than once. Apparently, the navigational tables by Moore are full of errors, and Mr. Bowditch spent years making calculations to make sailing safer.”
Serena felt a strange warmth bloom in her chest, and she said eagerly, “Yes, that is exactly it!”
“I assume the mathematics are complex?” Miss Elizabeth suggested.
“Exceedingly so,” Serena confessed. “Do you enjoy maths?”
“I do,” Miss Elizabeth said, “but not enormously complicated maths… May I look at the book?”
Serena passed it over, and Miss Elizabeth skimmed through a few pages and then lifted a wide-eyed look on her new acquaintance. “Oh, Miss Darcy, this is … I do not even know where to start! Do you understand this?”
“I do not understand much of it,” Serena confessed with a wry grin.
“I am just looking over it in a shallow sort of way. I will never be able to make these calculations, and I do not need to, but I find it interesting to contemplate the lives hinted in the pages of those who depend on stars and moon and sun.”
“Moreover, if you are a reader, and I suspect you are, you are quite disappointed with the library here at Netherfield,” Miss Elizabeth said with a saucy smile. “Mr. Prescott, the owner of Netherfield Hall, is a satisfactory gentleman, but not at all bookish.”
“Oh, Miss Elizabeth,” Serena said excitedly, “I heard from the housekeeper that there is a combined bookstore and lending library in Meryton. How large is it? Does it have a good selection?”
Her new acquaintance laughed and said, “It is quite favorable, thankfully. My father is a great bibliophile and single-handedly keeps old Mr. Swanson in business, I think.”
Serena’s heart did another little leap. An excellent bookstore in Meryton! A family whose patriarch and at least one daughter liked to read!
“How do you like your tea, Miss Elizabeth?” Miss Bingley said from a few feet away, and Serena forced herself to close her mouth and sit back. The time to discuss peculiar navigational books was doubtless over.
“I would like one lump of sugar, thank you, Miss Bingley,” Miss Elizabeth said courteously and accepted the tea a moment later with a polite smile.
“I must say, Miss Bennet,” Mrs. Hurst said as her sister continued to pour tea, “that it is quite interesting that you alone of your sisters are blonde.”
Jane Bennet took a sip of tea and said, “My mother was blonde and tragically died within two weeks of my birth. Mrs. Bennet is my stepmother, though I do not think of her in those terms, of course.”
While Jane did not appear upset in the least, Mrs. Hurst looked somewhat mortified that she had inadvertently brought attention to this painful memory and clearly had no idea how to respond.
After a few moments of silence, Georgiana said, “I am so very sorry, Miss Bennet. I lost my mother when I was only four years old. I do not remember her at all.”
Serena cast a sympathetic look on her younger sister. She had been six when Lady Anne Darcy passed on to her reward and had vague memories of a quiet, thin, pale, blonde woman who had smiled lovingly on her. Poor Georgiana did not even have that.
“Did your father remarry?” Miss Bennet asked.
Georgiana shook her head and said, “No, he did not, and we lost him five years ago.”
“I am so sorry!” Miss Bennet said kindly, and Serena, gazing onto the lady’s handsome face, concluded that Miss Bennet was being genuine. It seemed quite impossible that Jane Bennet could be as lovely on the inside as on the out, but first impressions of her were good.
“Your brother is several years older, I believe?” Mrs. Bennet suggested.
“Yes,” Serena said. “Fitzwilliam is eight and twenty, I am only eighteen and Georgiana is sixteen.”
The door opened at this juncture to reveal Fitzwilliam himself, along with Mr. Bingley. Serena watched as introductions were performed and was not surprised when Mr. Bingley promptly walked over to the side of the angelic Miss Bennet and began conversing with her.
Darcy made his deliberate way to Georgiana’s side and sat down, and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst began discussing a recent trip to the Opera House.
The Darcy siblings had all visited the opera on several occasions, and Georgiana enjoyed such performances, which permitted her to contribute to the conversation.
It was, Serena thought, a rude topic to introduce, given that the Bennets likely had never attended the Opera House in London.
But that was the point, no doubt. Miss Bingley had every intention of reminding their guests of their places, though as landowners, the Bennets were higher in Society than the Bingleys.
Thirty minutes into the visit, Mrs. Bennet very correctly rose to her feet, and her daughters followed her, and they bid farewell and made their way out of the drawing room, leaving the inhabitants of Longbourn behind.
There was silence for a minute, and then Bingley turned to gaze raptly at the others.
“Is she not an absolute angel?” he asked in an awed tone.
There was no doubt of whom he was speaking, and indeed, Serena was inclined to agree with him, on first acquaintance anyway.
The eldest Miss Bennet seemed to be a soft-spoken, sweet girl, with genuine sympathy.
Of course, Serena did not pretend that she was excellent at understanding the hearts of men or women.
“She is very pretty,” Miss Bingley remarked, “and her mother and sisters seem reasonably genteel.”
“I heard Miss Mary say that she enjoys the pianoforte,” Georgiana said softly.
“Speaking of music,” Miss Bingley said, turning a smiling look on the younger Miss Darcy, “I found some music in my trunk which I wished to show you. It looks to be quite difficult, likely beyond my skill, but perhaps you could manage it?”
“Oh, well, I would be pleased to look at it,” Georgiana said hesitantly.
“If you would care to go to the music room, I will join you there shortly,” her hostess said and hurried off. Serena watched her leave, her brow furrowed. Again, why was Miss Bingley complimenting Georgiana so often?
“Do you mind if I accompany you to the music room, Miss Georgiana?” Mrs. Hurst asked. Georgiana, of course, was agreeable, and the pair left together.
“Are you well, Sister?” Darcy asked, and she jumped a trifle and turned to find her brother seated on a chair nearby, looking at her with concern.
“I am,” she said immediately and smiled. “Miss Elizabeth and I discussed The American Practical Navigator, and she said that the bookstore in Meryton is quite large, though of course I do not know what that means. She also said her father is a bibliophile.”
Her brother’s right eyebrow lifted.
“How interesting,” he said. “Although whether his idea of … but it matters not. Do you like the Bennets, Serena?”
She shrugged and said, “I hardly know them, not after one morning visit. But they seem pleasant enough, and Miss Bennet is definitely far more charming than I expected.”
This provoked a look of bewilderment from her brother, who asked, “More charming than you expected? What do you mean?”
She looked at her brother and tilted her chin. “She is uncommonly beautiful, Fitzwilliam. Most handsome women of my acquaintance are arrogant, and since Miss Bennet truly might be the loveliest woman I have ever met in my life, I had wondered if she might also be the most arrogant.”
“Oh,” Darcy said, looking unsure and turning a frowning look toward the door. “Yes, I suppose she is very pretty.”
Serena blinked and considered her brother carefully. They were a full decade apart in age, and of course she had accepted that he would marry eventually, possibly their cousin Anne de Bourgh, who was the heiress to a grand estate in Kent.
It occurred to her, not for the first time, that while many gentlemen paid extravagant compliments and flirted delicately with attractive ladies, her brother was always sober and rigidly courteous with the fairer sex.
It was not her place to question whether he behaved in such a way because of inherent shyness, or because he had never been genuinely drawn to any particular woman.
Moreover, she was an intelligent woman, if young and inexperienced, and she understood that her brother was a great prize with his good looks and connections and, most importantly of all, the vast estate of Pemberley.
He also had many burdens on his shoulders, including the protection of two much younger sisters.
She was grateful for his assiduous care.
The clock struck the noon hour, and Darcy turned a suddenly cheerful face on his sister. “My dear, shall we plan to visit the bookstore in Meryton this afternoon? Something simply must be done about Netherfield’s pathetic library!”
“I would enjoy that above all things, Brother!”