Chapter 21
PROMISING NEWS
LONGBOURN VILLAGE
The business of Mrs. Bennet’s life was marrying off her daughters.
The near disaster that led to her youngest daughter’s current marital felicity did not diminish her enthusiasm one bit.
Rather it bolstered her resolve. Who knew a daughter could be married with so little trouble to herself, and all that it required was merely sending her away to visit with friends?
Indeed, it had turned out to be a blessing in disguise that the militia encamped just outside of Meryton the year before.
Now it seemed that fate was once again on the lady’s side.
The good people of Meryton had heard rumors that a single gentleman of large fortune had come from London to look at the Netherfield Park estate.
Matchmaking mothers from near and far entertained hopes that he would marry one of their single daughters.
This was especially true of Mrs. Bennet, for what did she live for if not to make advantageous matches for her girls?
With Lydia out of the way, she had only to secure husbands for the remaining three—four if she counted Elizabeth.
Mrs. Bennet still wore her disappointment that her second eldest had spurned the hand of the heir of Longbourn as a badge of her suffering.
As a consequence, Elizabeth was on her own so far as finding a husband was concerned.
Now armed with the most promising news that the neighboring estate had been let after sitting vacant for what had seemed like an eternity, her spirits could hardly be contained.
The excitable woman, who had once known more than her fair share of beauty, looked intently at her husband. “Have you heard the news, Mr. Bennet?”
“What news is that?” he asked in reply to his lady, not bothering to look up from his paper.
“Netherfield Park has been let at last.”
Mr. Bennet made no answer.
“Do you not want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife impatiently.
Widely perceived as an odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humor, reserve, and caprice, he replied, “You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.” With the unfortunate business of his youngest daughter’s elopement behind him, the gentleman was slowly returning to form.
For Mrs. Bennet’s part, her husband’s reply was invitation enough to share all that she knew of the particulars. “Why, my dear Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Long, who was just here not very long ago, says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England.”
Mr. and Mrs. Bennet went on and on in that manner for some time, quite unaware that they had attracted an audience.
Elizabeth’s sister Kitty was standing just outside the door; her spirits considerably recovered now that her favorite sister, Lydia, was safe and happily married. Mary, the third Bennet daughter, approached her. “Kitty, what are you doing? You know better than to eavesdrop.”
“Oh, hush,” Kitty whispered, a single finger pressed to her lips. She waved her older sister over to the door, silently encouraging Mary to listen too.
“I will not,” said Mary, pushing her spectacles against her face. “Listening to conversations meant to be private is wrong. It is just the sort of thing Lydia would do. Come away from the door.”
Kitty hushed her sister again. “Well, if you will not join me then you must at least be quiet so I can hear.”
Elizabeth and Jane, who were returning from their walk in the garden, handed their bonnets to a servant. Seeing their sisters, one standing with her ear pressed to the door trying to hear what she could hear and the other looking on with a scowl on her face, they stopped.
Jane, a lovely creature with golden hair and expressive blue eyes, said, “Kitty?” She bestowed a look of admonishment that the younger girl understood quite well.
Kitty shook her head in surrender, and tore herself away from the door. She seized Jane’s arm and then commenced coaxing her into the vacant room across the hall. Elizabeth and Mary were obliged to follow to see what had caused their young sister such enthusiasm.
“Oh, Jane! You will never guess what I found out.”
“Kitty, you know you should not have been listening at the door like that.”
“Never mind all that. If I had not been passing by when I did, I would not be privy to such happy news.”
“What is it?” Elizabeth exclaimed with energy, for after the month they had endured, a measure of good news was long overdue. Even Mary’s curiosity could no longer be curbed.
“Mama told Papa that an exceedingly rich gentleman who hails from Derbyshire will soon be a new addition to our society—a single gentleman who has over ten thousand pounds a year. He is coming with his friend who has over five thousand pounds a year, for he is the one who let Netherfield Park.” She spun around in joy.
“Oh! Jane, Elizabeth, Mary,” she exclaimed with unbridled enthusiasm, “do none of you know what this means?”
Elizabeth’s heartbeat raced. She knew precisely what Kitty’s news meant. A single gentleman who hails from Derbyshire who has over ten thousand pounds! Feeling a bit lightheaded, she drifted away from her sisters and braced herself against the wall. She placed her hand on her breast. Mr. Darcy!
Seeing this, Jane left Kitty to share her view of what all this meant with Mary while she rushed to where Elizabeth stood. “Lizzy,” she said, her voice filled with concern. She placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Are you all right? You look ill.”
Elizabeth took her sister’s hand in hers and squeezed it affectionately. “Oh, Jane. You will recall my telling you about the gentleman whose acquaintance I made while in Kent.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Jane replied, shaking her head. “How might I fail to remember, given the frequent mentioning of him in all your letters?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Then you will recall my writing that Mr. Darcy’s home is in Derbyshire. I frequently heard it cited by Mr. Collins that Mr. Darcy has over ten thousand pounds a year. What are the odds that the gentleman whom Kitty spoke of just now is not Mr. Darcy?”
Jane’s happiness for her sister etched across her angelic countenance. “Oh, Lizzy! Can this mean what I think it means?”
“Jane,” said Elizabeth, slowly drifting towards a window to peer outside into the distance, “I am not certain what this means.”