Chapter 25
Drawing Room
Longbourn
Elizabeth had come downstairs later than usual, but her mother and sisters had slept in even longer, which meant that she had been alone in the drawing room when Mr. and Miss Darcy had been announced.
She had been bemused by their arrival so early after the ball, but her confusion gave way to consternation at Mr. Darcy’s explanation.
“You are leaving for Pemberley tomorrow?” she asked.
“We are,” Miss Darcy said sadly, and she looked over to where her brother was standing by the window, his expression grave. “Fitzwilliam must be at Pemberley after the death of our steward, and Georgiana and I cannot be at Netherfield without him.”
“Oh, no, of course you cannot,” Elizabeth said hastily. She was aware of a stab of disappointment in her chest, but she forced a smile and said, “Well, we will miss your family very much, but I hope we will still have the opportunity of seeing you next spring in Town?”
“Yes, I will be launched into Society next spring,” Serena said, rather in the manner of a soldier ready to charge single-handedly toward the enemy lines. “And I am very glad you will be there.”
“I am as well, as I consider you a good friend, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said.
The girl blushed, ducked her head, and then asked shyly, “Will you call me Serena?”
“Of course, and you must call me Elizabeth.”
“Will you write me at Pemberley?”
“Yes, that would be wonderful! I adore writing letters to friends!”
“Do you think that your sister Mary would be interested in writing Georgiana? They share a true love of music, which is uncommon.”
“I am certain Mary would treasure corresponding with Miss Georgiana.”
Serena nodded with satisfaction and then, after a glance at her brother, said, “I fear we must return to Netherfield to make our preparations for departing on the morrow. Please give my regards to your family.”
“I will,” she promised, “and please give my regards to Miss Georgiana.”
Mr. Darcy nodded as Serena rose from her chair, and the girl placed her hand on her brother’s arm. Elizabeth, gazing into the gentleman’s face, was startled when his eyes suddenly met hers, and unless she was mistaken, there was something more than mere courtesy in those dark eyes.
For a moment, the pair simply stared at one another, and then Mr. Darcy said, “I look forward very much to seeing you again next spring, Miss Elizabeth.”
She swallowed hard and managed a smile as her own heart fluttered. “I look forward to that as well, Mr. Darcy.”
He bowed and guided his sister out of the room, leaving Elizabeth alone. Her heart was beating quickly now, and she found herself contemplating that last, shared look between herself and Mr. Darcy.
She admired the master of Pemberley very much as a brother and landowner. He was tall and handsome, but more than that, he was diligent and devoted to his sisters, along with being a good friend to Mr. Bingley.
He was, she thought, the best young man she had ever met, and her ideal of a possible husband. Was there any chance for her, the daughter of a Cit?
It seemed unlikely, and yet…
Was it too much to hope that there had been admiration in those dark eyes?
***
Dining Room
Longbourn
Early Evening
Elizabeth took a sip of wine and watched absently as the servants left the room, leaving the family to their meal.
“My dear cousins,” Mr. Collins said as the door clicked closed behind the butler, “I have an announcement to make.”
Elizabeth, along with her family, looked at the heir of Longbourn. Mr. Collins was to leave for Kent early the next day, and based on her understanding of his character, he probably thought it necessary to make long speeches to end his visit.
“This morning,” Collins said, lifting his chin proudly, “I had the honor of asking Miss Charlotte Lucas for her hand in marriage, and she accepted me.”
Elizabeth, who had taken another sip of wine, choked at these words and found herself coughing violently. Mary, who was seated at her right, thumped her on the back, while the rest of the family stared at Mr. Collins with wide eyes and shocked demeanors.
Mrs. Bennet, perhaps not surprisingly, recovered first.
“Miss Lucas!” she said. “Many, many congratulations, Mr. Collins! Charlotte is a wonderful woman. She is very practical, skilled in the kitchen, and intelligent. She will make you an admirable wife.”
“Indeed,” Jane chimed in with a determined smile, “I have no doubt that you will suit one another very well, very well indeed.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth in an attempt to say something equally appropriate, but she found she could not. Charlotte married to that bumbling fool? What was her friend thinking?
Fortunately for her, Mr. Collins quickly launched into a long exposition of Charlotte’s many positive qualities.
As usual, he was far too verbose, but Elizabeth was vaguely aware that he was, more or less, correct about Miss Lucas’s character and abilities, and there was even a certain sweetness in his speeches as he spoke glowingly of her dear friend.
She would doubtless be a truly excellent wife, but surely Mr. Collins would be a horrible husband. Again, what was Charlotte thinking?
***
Elizabeth’s Bedchamber
Longbourn
Midnight
“She is thinking that she wishes to marry, and have children, and not die an old maid in her brother’s house,” Mrs. Bennet said.
Elizabeth stared at her mother in disbelief. “Are you saying that … that you agree with Charlotte’s decision? Surely not!”
Her mother hesitated, obviously considering her words with care, and then said, “I am confident that you and your sisters would be miserable as Mrs. Collins, but Charlotte has a very different temperament than all of you. She is seven and twenty, well-educated, plain, and with no fortune. Marriage to Mr. Collins will give her standing in the community, a comfortable future, and, if God so blesses her, children. I understand it completely. Furthermore, this is Charlotte’s own decision, and others make decisions that we would not, and we should be careful not to expect them to always choose as we would. ”
Elizabeth winced. “But he is so ridiculous!”
“He is,” her mother agreed, “but he is respectable and not unkind. Indeed, his veneration of Lady Catherine shows that he is capable of thinking highly of a woman, and there are many men who show no sign of such capability. Your father did not.”
Elizabeth stared at Mrs. Bennet and then sat back in her chair as the air left her lungs.
She found her clergyman cousin to be absolutely intolerable, but then, she had not had a great deal of experience in life, had she?
The man she knew best, Mr. Bennet, while a trifle lazy, was clever and cared for his family.
The other gentlemen in the community ranged in their intellectual abilities, but none were violent or cruel.
Compared to her own father, who had been a drunkard and a gambler, Mr. Collins was a prize.
***
Billiard Room
Netherfield Hall
Midnight
“Darcy?”
Fitzwilliam Darcy had just drained his glass of port wine with the intention of seeking his bedchamber, but his friend’s odd tone caused him to turn a curious look on the current master of Netherfield.
“Yes, Bingley?”
“Do you think,” Bingley said carefully, “that Miss Jane Bennet cares about me in a romantic way?”
Darcy relaxed back into his seat and watched his friend sympathetically. He had a deep regard for Bingley and considered him one of the best of men, but he was rather too inclined to fall in love quickly, and often inappropriately.
That was not true in that case, at least. Miss Bennet was the respectable daughter of a country gentleman, although her own mother had been the child of a solicitor. But given Bingley’s antecedents, such a marriage would not be a disgrace, not at all.
Miss Bennet, too, was all that was good and kind and refined. She was a wonderful young woman, though rather dull to Darcy’s mind.
She was not nearly as clever and vivacious as Miss Elizabeth, but no, he would not think of that lady, not now, when he was required to journey north to Pemberley and away from the woman he admired so much.
“Darcy?” Bingley repeated, and Darcy shook his head and said, “My apologies, I was thinking. Truthfully, I do not think she is romantically attracted to you. She is open, cheerful, and engaging, but I see no signs of particular regard for you. But then, you have not known one another long.”
Bingley’s expression fell at these words, and the younger man took a sip of his own wine.
“I have come to that conclusion myself,” he said mournfully. “At the ball yesterday, she spoke eagerly of the upcoming Season, and there was no hint that she had any intention of marrying before that. Nor can I blame her, I suppose. London is quite marvelous during the Season.”
Darcy forced himself not to shudder. He did not think that endless balls and entertainments were marvelous at all, and while he was keeping a stiff upper lip, he was nearly as unenthusiastic about the upcoming Season as his sister Serena.
Except, he realized, that Elizabeth Bennet would be in London in the spring, and he would see her again … and suddenly he was not so reticent to think of the upcoming Season.
Bingley was, he noticed, staring at him strangely, and he coughed and said, “Yes, it will be most enjoyable, no doubt. Take heart, Bingley. We can enjoy the Season together, and I expect you will have opportunities to court the lady in London if you so desire.”
Bingley brightened at these words, and Darcy lurched to his feet and said, “I will be leaving early in the morning, so will bid you farewell, my friend. Thank you for your hospitality to myself and my sisters.”
Bingley stood up as well and said, “It has been my honor, and I thank you for your kindness in giving me advice about the estate. But I will arise early as well to see you off, I assure you.”
“That is not necessary,” Darcy protested, though inwardly he was pleased.
“But it is,” Bingley said. “How could I not send off my best friend and his dear sisters? Good night.”
“Good night.”
***
Netherfield Hall
Dawn
The Next Morning
Wednesday, 20th November 1811
“Godspeed, Darcy,” Bingley said and clapped his friend’s arm. “Thank you again for staying with us for a time, and I look forward to seeing you next spring in Town.”
“Thank you,” Darcy said. “It has been a pleasant interlude, and I regret having to leave on such short notice.”
Bingley nodded, his expression grave, and said, “But you must, of course. Pemberley is too large an estate to be without a hand on the tiller, so to speak.”
“Exactly,” Darcy replied and held out his hand. “God bless you.”
Bingley shook the hand firmly, and then Darcy climbed into the carriage, where his two sisters and a maid were already waiting. Bingley shut the door, Darcy tapped the roof with his cane, and the vehicle jerked into motion.
Outside the carriage, their breath had filled the air with clouds, while the horses blew like dragons.
Inside the carriage, it was a bit warmer, the floor well supplied with heated bricks from the kitchen, the passengers swathed to shapelessness in layers of heavy wool rugs.
Across from him, Serena and Georgiana sat leaning silently against one another, their postures unusually slumped.
Though both tended to be early risers, they rarely rose with the sun, and neither looked fully awake yet.
Indeed, Georgiana gave every appearance of nodding off again.
If they were able to sleep a little longer, they would do so with Darcy's goodwill.
For his own part, his mind was too full to allow him to relax.
The death of poor Mr. Godfrey preoccupied the greatest part of his mind, as well as apprehension at the state of affairs that he would find at Pemberley.
The deceased steward had always kept meticulous records, but it would nonetheless take time for Darcy to go through them all.
He had been apprised of the most outstanding issues regarding the estate, of course, but not with the granular detail that fell under the purview of the steward, and it would be necessary for him to study these details.
This would by necessity be a temporary situation since Darcy would not be able to oversee his own estate for long, with the Season only a few months away.
It was imperative that he find and hire another steward, one with experience with large estates, who would not require much training before being able to take the reins of Pemberley into competent hands.
It would be better to facilitate such a transition during the winter, when the fields lay fallow and the animals needed only feeding, before plowing and sowing and harvest, lambing and calving and foaling and whelping all began once more.
At any rate, it seemed very unlikely that the Darcys would depart Pemberley before early spring.
These were the sorts of thoughts occupying the greater part of his mind, but there was some small, stubborn corner of his mind that dwelt dolefully on friends left behind.
His goodbye to Miss Elizabeth had been disappointingly brief, as had been their acquaintance.
He had been looking forward to furthering their friendship and spending more time in company with one another.
They would be in company during the Season, of course, but the setting would be very different from the more leisurely Meryton.
Serena and Georgiana had both dozed off again as they rode, and Darcy looked out the window.
The view did little to lift his flagging spirits, but he allowed it to absorb his attention.
Yew hedges hugged the road, blocking the view beyond of brown stubble and dirt in the fallow fields, while pasture grass was cropped down short.
No clouds painted the eastern sky pink; the horizon instead tinted faintly yellow among the gray and pale blue.
Though it would not be a particularly striking sunrise, Darcy was grateful for a day that bid to be fair and clear.
They would change the horses repeatedly along the road, and travel for as long as the light lasted.
If all went according to plan, they would only spend one night at an inn and would arrive at Pemberley late on the morrow.