Chapter Eighteen #2
Darcy widened the smile. “Very pleasant, though I was an unmannerly lout on my arrival and had the misfortune to offend her. She left me under no illusion as to my transgressions. I think I have redeemed myself—slightly—but I continue to strive to show her I truly am a gentleman, despite first impressions.”
They had paused in the Great Hall, and now Darcy led the way through to the estate offices at the back of the house, past the boarded up door of his fire-wrecked study. While chuckling at Darcy’s wry tone, Bingley nodded towards the door. “What happened?”
“A fire on Michaelmas Sunday. It was contained, and no one was hurt.” Good Lord, not even a fortnight past! It already felt like ancient history.
“A difficult start for you as master. Not a bad omen, I hope.”
Darcy considered George’s frowns and Reid’s solicitude since.
Reid was too phlegmatic and sensible to be a victim of George’s suspicions or believe in bad omens, but he had taken to watching over Darcy as fiercely as he had in India or the Canadian wilds.
Darcy had that morning persuaded Reid he did not need to be at Darcy’s right hand at every moment of the day.
Reid had acknowledged he could trust that Bingley, at least, would not mean Darcy harm.
The fire was not an ill omen, perhaps, but had not left Darcy comfortable, either. The elements of discord in the house were unmistakable. He could only hope against hope the Bingleys did not discern them.
“Well, yes, I cannot deny it was an unfortunate beginning. But not, I hope, an indication of how I will get on. I am making progress, I believe. The tenants have all been welcoming, although they are cautious. I do not know them well, and they do not yet know me. Between Miss Elizabeth and George Wickham, who is an excellent steward, I am kept up to date with the tenants’ concerns, and I hope to prove myself a good landlord and earn their trust. It is a most solemn duty, Bingley.
I hope I am up to snuff enough to meet everyone’s expectations. ”
“I do not doubt you are, my dear fellow. Not for an instant. I shall be looking to you for advice when I take my own first steps into ownership of an estate. I hope I can rely on your guidance?”
“So far as I am able, when I am a novice myself, Bingley! Do you look in the district around here, then?”
“It seems a reasonable course, both to be within reach of you and of Yorkshire, where we have family ties. You once suggested I lease for a year or two first, and that is my intention, unless an uncommon bargain comes my way that I would be a fool to pass by.”
“I would be glad to have a friend close. But come, let us find Reid.”
Darcy led the way into the corridor holding the estate offices: George’s, and Reid’s, and the small room given over to the head gardener where, after deploring Darcy’s fondness for fruit, he pored over plant catalogues and drew up his plans to ensure Pemberley’s gardens beat those of Chatsworth all hollow.
Reid was in George’s office, the pair of them leaning over the desk, looking over one of the house drawings spread over the desk. He and George both glanced up, and while George’s expression remained polite at the sight of Bingley, Reid’s warmed into sincere pleasure.
“Mr Bingley! I am glad to see you.” He eyed Bingley with the same measuring stare he had used before a dozen difficult encounters over the years, as if weighing Bingley’s fitness for whatever task was in the offing. “You look well, sir.”
They shook hands with great energy, and after polite enquiries as to Reid’s health (excellent) and how he was finding his new post (also excellent, which reassurance pleased Darcy), and the healths of Bingley and Bingley’s various family members (blooming, and genteel-ly excited to be at Pemberley), Reid prepared to take himself off in his usual bracing manner.
“Mr Wickham and I were looking at my plans for overhauling the roof and repointing the chimneys, he being better acquainted than me with the workers hereabouts, but that can wait until later and I will leave you gentlemen to your avocations. A pleasure to see you again, Mr Bingley, and I hope we have the chance to partake of a dram and a wee blether while you are here.”
“I would be delighted. Darcy, too, I do not doubt.”
“I would be honoured,” Darcy said, and meant it.
Reid, grinning, nodded. “Aye. It’s as well I laid my hands on a bottle or two then. I’ll away now and leave you gentlemen to a blether of your own.” He nodded at Darcy. “Sir.”
“Thank you, John.” Darcy, pleased that Reid appeared content in his new role, considered a rare use of Reid’s familiar name was merited. He smiled warmly, much heartened when it was returned.
George frowned at the door after it closed behind Reid. “A dram?”
“Were we in his native Scotland, it would be a spirituous drink called whisky,” Darcy said. “Uncommon here in England, so he is likely to offer brandy and will deplore the substitution.”
“And a blether?”
“A chat.” Bingley laughed. “After more than two years of Reid’s tutelage, I daresay I am not such an irredeemable Sassenach after all! How wonderful to see him again. I admit I could not see him comfortable with any other principal from the office, Darcy. He is entirely your man, I think.”
Darcy nodded. “I have every faith in him.”
George smiled, but Darcy caught the slight edge to his words. “He is admirably efficient, certainly. He has hired two carpenters, Darcy, and oversees them with a ruthless eye. You may be assured the windows will be far less draughty by winter.”
“I am delighted he agreed to stay with me. After so many years, it was impossible to imagine life without his support.” Darcy thought briefly of the still-pretty widow at Frith House. “He does appear to be settling in well.”
Bingley smiled at him. “Not the only one, I hope! I am glad to see you too are settling into your new life, Darcy. Very glad indeed.”
Darcy nodded back, and only hoped it was true. “Now then, George is the man to ask about your own situation, Bingley. George, my friend here is looking to lease an estate, possibly with the option to purchase. You know the country around better than anyone. What prospects might Bingley explore?”
Given the number of guests and their importance, the party used the formal dining room that evening.
Miss Elizabeth mentioned, with a typical quirk of eye and mouth to show her customary good humour, that she had had some of the leaves removed from the table to ensure the diners were not so far separated they would need to shout at each other over the polished mahogany in lieu of more genteel conversation.
Darcy took in Mrs Hurst, of course, since she was the highest ranking female guest, while Hurst escorted Mrs Darcy.
Hugh’s charge was Miss Bingley, although he persisted in making sheep’s eyes at Miss Jane while scowling at her escort.
She walked on Bingley’s arm, accounting for both Hugh’s scowls and Bingley’s bright smiles.
George looked delighted to take in Miss Elizabeth.
Georgiana was dining in her rooms with her governess.
The Bingley ladies had been loud in their praise of her and assiduous in their attentions when the entire schoolroom were introduced before Misses Lydia and Kitty set out for Frith House and Georgiana escaped upstairs.
The Bennet girls had been recipients of a long, measuring look from Miss Bingley, who had then bestowed the compliment of her attention on Georgiana, who had no notion how to manage the sweet smiles and admiration.
Not that this prevented Miss Bingley from lauding everything about her, with comments on how refined breeding showed in superiority of looks, dress, manners, and education.
Georgiana had scampered away, looking relieved to be excused attending dinner.
Darcy must be sure to suggest to his stepmother that should be the normal state of affairs for the duration of the Bingleys’ visit.
While Georgiana must learn to navigate society as she prepared for her come-out, not much was to be gained by putting her into Miss Bingley’s company.
A pity Bingley had not come to Pemberley alone.
The solemn procession and the seating at the table were all very proper, but Darcy had become accustomed to Miss Elizabeth being at his right hand at meals, and now her conversation was reserved to those in the middle of the table where she sat between Hugh and Hurst. Her wit and vivacity was wasted on Hurst, and Hugh was more interested in staring across the table at Miss Jane.
Bingley, at Miss Jane’s right side, appeared to be in such a euphoria of enraptured joy as to destroy his appetite altogether.
He certainly spent much of the excellent meal rivalling Hugh’s stares, and picking at his plate in a manner suggesting he had forgotten how to wield his cutlery.
George, sitting between Miss Jane and Mrs Hurst, was not given much notice by either, and whenever his glance met Darcy’s, he rolled his eyes.
Mrs Hurst was not a scintillating conversationalist, although she made great efforts to support her sister’s every utterance.
Miss Bingley had a stream of conversation, ranging from more of her doings in Town to her astonishment at how liberal the Darcys were, giving such beneficent notice to both their steward—said with a restrained titter and a glance down the table to George—and lower-class children from the estate.
By the time Darcy had turned his head from contemplating Miss Elizabeth to glare at his guest’s presumption, she had rolled on. Juggernaut’s car was easier to stop.
A comment from Miss Bingley about the duke reminded Darcy of the note he had received from Chatsworth shortly before dinner.
After replying to Miss Bingley—“We are not in the first rank of Devonshire’s friends, of course, but the families have been acquainted these many years.
The late duchess was Georgiana’s godmother and namesake.
”—and allowing her to compliment them on such a gloriously gilded connection, he raised his voice to catch Miss Elizabeth’s attention.
“Miss Bingley, do excuse me a moment. Miss Elizabeth!”
She turned her head from the conversation she was enduring with Hurst, and smiled. “Mr Darcy?”
“I am reminded by my conversation with Miss Bingley, that I heard today from Matthews, the duke’s master of household. It appears Devonshire is in residence at Chatsworth and the house is closed to visitors seeking to tour it.”
“What a pity.” Miss Elizabeth leaned forward and twisted in her chair to direct a deprecating grimace impartially between Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. “I had hoped we would be able to take you to Chatsworth. It is an impressive house, very finely built. The gardens, too, are magnificent, although this is not quite the best time of year to tour the grounds.”
“Matthews has proposed we visit Hardwick Hall next Monday, instead. It is farther off, of course, but if we engage rooms in Chesterfield, it will be an excellent excursion.” Darcy looked from Miss Bingley to Mrs Hurst. “The days are shortening now, so to travel and return in a single day is not possible, though we have done so in summer when the roads are better and the days longer. We might spend a few hours of the first day at Hardwick, before staying overnight in Chesterfield. You ladies may then have a morning’s shopping in the town. What do you say, Miss Elizabeth?”
She smiled. “Although I have lived in Derbyshire more than three years now, I have not yet had the opportunity to visit Hardwick. To see it will be a great pleasure.”
There was something… a diminution in her usual luminosity that had Darcy wondering if aught were amiss, but before he could speak, Miss Bingley glanced down the table to her.
“You will join us, Miss Eliza? Do not your duties preclude it?”
Miss Eliza? From the quickly masked grimace, Miss Elizabeth was as taken aback by this diminutive as Darcy was. She smiled again, however, and said, her tone pleasant despite the provocation, “Not at all. My sister and I will take part in all the amusements we are planning.”
Miss Bingley smiled sweetly. “Well, I am delighted we will have the opportunity to deepen our acquaintance.”
Miss Elizabeth made Miss Bingley a queer little bow. “The pleasure is entirely mine, Miss Bingley.”
Darcy rather doubted that.