Chapter 4
Billiard Room
Netherfield Hall
Evening
The billiard room, like the rest of the house, was furnished in a style that could not be called fashionable by even the most generous observer. Nonetheless, it was a most comfortable room, and Darcy, at least, thought it would be a great pity if his brother-in-law chose to change it at all.
The felt of the billiards table was smooth and flat, and the ivory balls clacked one against another commendably in a game between Hurst and Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Darcy and Bingley had chosen an activity that required rather less exertion.
Deep red Madeira wine glowed through the cut crystal sides of their glasses, catching the light of the large fire which the two men lounged beside.
Leather upholstered wingbacks were drawn close to the spacious hearth, with a low walnut table between them to bear decanter and glasses.
Darcy stared at the fire through heavy-lidded eyes, relishing the good company and the peace of the late hour.
Peace had been hard to come by this year.
Spring, with its sudden rush of planting and lambing and calving and foaling, was a blessed and bountiful time of year but invariably busy.
Then summer had come, deceptively mild until treachery and tragedy had raised their twin unwelcome heads.
Then had come the hasty marriage over the anvil, the return to London, and the hard work of scotching rumors before they could even start.
There had scarcely been time, all these past months, to even draw breath.
With Georgiana safely married to a good man and the family far away from the inquisitive eye of society, Darcy could feel himself finally starting to relax.
The cooler autumn air and the warmth of the fire spoke of winter approaching, of coming rest, with the hectic stresses of summer laid to sleep at last. Darcy was all too willing to believe those promises as weariness hung from his limbs like weights.
“Congratulations, Hurst,” Richard said, and Darcy turned a lazy eye toward his cousin and brother-in-law, the latter of whom had emerged victorious from the billiards game.
“Thank you, Colonel,” Hurst said with a grin. “Now, I had best go upstairs and see how Louisa is doing.”
Bingley lifted a lazy hand in farewell, and the three men watched as Hurst left the room and shut the door behind him.
Darcy contemplated the closed door a moment longer, mildly and pleasantly surprised.
He had always considered the Hursts’ marriage to be one of convenience, for out of it Louisa had become a gentlewoman, whereas Hurst’s income had increased significantly with the addition of his wife’s substantial dowry.
Neither one had ever displayed any remarkable affection for their spouse, but rather the sort of cool, disinterested civility that hallmarked loveless unions.
That had changed markedly when Louisa fell into the family way.
Hurst had become attentiveness itself, constantly concerned with his wife’s health and well-being.
Such care boded well for mother and child, and Darcy was charmed to see such unlooked-for solicitousness from a man whose natural inclination had previously tended towards indolence.
“Bingley?” Richard said, breaking into Darcy’s thoughts.
“Yes?” Bingley answered, taking a sip of wine.
“How is Georgiana?”
This caused both Darcy and Bingley to straighten, and Darcy frowned at his cousin. Richard met his gaze unrepentantly and said, “I know you are Georgiana’s brother, but Bingley is her husband. He may have a different opinion of her happiness than you do.”
Darcy thought that this was reasonable enough, and he turned a curious and slightly nervous look on his friend and brother-in-law.
Bingley, to his credit, did not reply instantly, and when he did, it was with a serious expression and a grave tone.
“I believe that my wife is doing quite well,” he said, “though she continues to ask that her personal maid sleep on a cot in her room. I have offered to have a footman stand guard outside her door at night, but she does not wish for that.”
Darcy felt his throat constrict at these words, and based on the expression on Richard’s face, he was appalled as well.
“I had no idea that she was still so nervous about,” Darcy began and then sighed deeply. “I suppose it is no surprise, though, after what happened last summer.”
Richard began stalking up and down the carpet in his rage. “I only wish we could kill Wickham again!”
Darcy cast an alarmed look at the door, which was reassuringly thick and closed, and said, “Richard, I know you are still angry, and so am I, but the last thing we want is for a servant to overhear that we…”
“I know, I know,” Richard interrupted irritably and sank into the only remaining chair by the fire, whereupon he blew out a long breath. “I know. She will recover in time, I hope, but I wish I could have prevented it.”
“You wish you could have prevented it?” Darcy retorted, though he kept his voice low. “I am the one who failed my dear sister. I am the one who hired Mrs. Younge without checking her bona fides. I am the one who sent her off to Ramsgate, where that villain was…”
He swallowed hard, and Bingley said, “Darcy, I beg you not to distress yourself. Georgiana had a terrible experience, but I believe she is stronger than you give her credit for. The worst did not come to pass. She is free from Wickham forever, and Mrs. Younge will have reached Australia by now, never to return.”
“Yes, and you are an excellent husband to her, Bingley,” Darcy said truthfully. “I am not nearly as convivial as you are, and while I love my sister dearly, she has long looked on me as more father than brother.”
“It is my honor to have Georgiana as my wife,” Bingley said and then deliberately turned the conversation by continuing, “What do you think of our neighbors, the Bennets?”
“Miss Bennet is an angel,” Richard replied instantly, “an absolute angel.”
“Yes, she is very beautiful,” Darcy acknowledged. “Do you know whether the family has any money?”
“I know very little about them,” Bingley said. “Mr. Bennet visited me a week ago, perhaps. He is about fifty years old and seems a learned man. You would probably enjoy talking to him. Georgiana mentioned that Miss Mary is an accomplished musician as well.”
“We should visit them tomorrow,” Richard suggested.
Darcy gazed at Richard suspiciously and then forced himself to relax. Colonel Fitzwilliam, second son of the Earl of Matlock, was a sensible man and not likely to lose his heart to a pretty face.
“Caroline mentioned that she would also like to visit the Bennets,” he said.
“Excellent,” Bingley said.
***
Breakfast Room
Longbourn
The Next Morning
Friday, 15th November, 1811
“Mrs. Marston had her baby yesterday, a girl,” Lydia said and then took a bite of her blueberry muffin.
“How wonderful,” Kitty said excitedly. “I know she was wishful of a daughter after three sons!”
“I would like to visit them this morning and bring a basket of food,” Lydia continued and then turned to Elizabeth. “Do you wish to come, Lizzy?”
“I do, very much,” Elizabeth replied with a smile. “Perhaps we could also plan to make a little gown for…”
“A carriage has just arrived,” Kitty interrupted from her position by the window, and Mrs. Bennet, who had been eating steadily, leaped to her feet and hurtled over to the window to stare out excitedly.
A moment later, she turned back to her five daughters, her eyes glistening with enthusiasm.
“It is the Bingley carriage, I am certain of it! Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, you have one minute to finish eating, and then I want you in the drawing room. Kitty, Lydia, you may come if you wish, but I insist that you do not speak to Colonel Fitzwilliam. Given the way that he was staring at Jane yesterday, I am quite hopeful that she will capture him. Mary, you spoke to Mrs. Bingley about music, I believe?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you and Mrs. Bingley can play together so that … oh, make haste, girls, make haste!”
***
Drawing Room
Two Minutes Later
“Mrs. Bingley, Miss Bingley, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” the Bennets’ butler intoned. The party from Netherfield entered the room in his wake, and Mrs. Bennet and her older three daughters rose and curtsied.
“Welcome to Longbourn,” Mrs. Bennet said to her guests. “Please, sit down, sit down!”
Elizabeth watched with amusement as Colonel Fitzwilliam wandered across the room, seemingly at random, only to find himself at the chair nearest Jane.
He sat down and smiled at the eldest Miss Bennet, who smiled in return, and Elizabeth, satisfied that Jane was at ease, turned her attention to the rest of the party.
Mr. and Mrs. Bingley had seated themselves on a small couch near the fire, while Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley sat across from them on a settee.
Mr. and Miss Bingley were very obviously brother and sister, both with dark blond hair and dark eyes, with a similar cast of features.
Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Bingley, however, were very different from one another.
The former was tall and dark, with a firm chin and straight nose.
Mrs. Bingley was also tall, but there the resemblance ended.
Her hair was blonde, her eyes a wistful blue, her nose slightly turned up, her cheeks still rounded with youth.
She looked about Lydia’s age, and not for the first time, Elizabeth considered why such a young lady was already married. But then again, some women did age slowly. Perhaps Mrs. Bingley was closer to twenty than sixteen?
“Mrs. Bingley,” Mary said with a smile, “I wondered if perhaps you would be interested in playing on our pianoforte for a time, especially since your own has yet to be tuned?”
“Oh, yes,” the young matron breathed. “I would like that very much.”
“Shall we?” Mary suggested, rising to her feet. A moment later, the pair of ladies had disappeared out of the door in the direction of the music room, and Elizabeth turned her attention back to the remaining visitors.
“Mr. Bingley,” she said, “I hope you continue to find Netherfield Hall to your liking?”
“I do, very much,” he said with a broad smile. “I do not pretend to know a great deal about managing an estate, but with my friend Darcy here, I daresay I will not make too many mistakes.”
“Netherfield will benefit from having a master in residence,” Elizabeth said. “It is hard on the tenants when there is no one to oversee the fields and cottages.”
“I have not had the opportunity to inspect the cottages,” Mr. Bingley admitted, “but I have every intention of doing so in the near future.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Bingley said, “is there anything that the ladies of an estate are expected to do for the tenants? I have been a visitor to many a country house, but I am aware that visitors do not have the same responsibilities as inhabitants.”
Elizabeth turned an approving look on the woman and said, “It is, of course, up to each mistress how she conducts herself, but it is common here in Hertfordshire to provide small comforts to the tenants, especially during difficult times for a family, but also to celebrate some holidays. For example, we always prepare boxes of gifts for the servants and tenants on Boxing Day, the 26th of December.”
“What kind of gifts?” Caroline asked.
“We buy practical things,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Foodstuffs and cloaks for the tenant wives, and little coats for the children as needed.”
“Sometimes farming implements for the farmers themselves,” Elizabeth chimed in. “For the servants here at Longbourn, we often provide new clothing and blankets and the like.”
Miss Bingley looked at her brother with a smile and said, “Charles, I expect Georgiana would be pleased to arrange for gifts if I were to help her. What do you say?”
“I would be very glad to fund such gifts if she is interested,” Bingley said heartily. “Louisa might also enjoy assisting if she is feeling well enough.”
“Oh, is Mrs. Hurst not feeling well?” Mrs. Bennet asked, leaning forward with a sympathetic expression on her face. “I am so sorry. Our local apothecary, Mr. Jones, is very good at his job, I assure you.”
“Our sister is expecting her first child,” Miss Bingley explained.
“Oh, your poor sister,” Mrs. Bennet cried out. “I well remember how sickly I was with Jane, and indeed all my girls. Do you have any ginger tea? I swore by it when I was with child, and it prevented me from casting up my accounts, most of the time anyway. Truly…”
Elizabeth winced in embarrassment at the sight of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, both of whom were looking horrified at this discourse, though Caroline, to her credit, merely looked interested.
The door opened at this moment causing her mother to break off her impetuous speech, and Elizabeth rose as Mr. Bennet entered the room.
She was surprised to see that he had left the safety of his library, but was also pleased.
The visiting gentlemen all stood as well, and Mrs. Bennet introduced her husband to those who had not yet met him, and Mr. Bennet said with twinkling eyes, “It is pleasant to meet you, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, and good to see you again, Mr. Bingley. I wished to ask whether any of you are interested in either books or backgammon, as I am fond of both.”
“I am very fond of books,” Mr. Darcy said.
“Well, I do not know if the library at Netherfield has improved of late, but when Mr. Platchett still lived there, I thought it a barren desert.”
Darcy laughed, which rather took Elizabeth’s breath away. He was a handsome man at the worst of times, but when he was smiling, he was incredibly good looking.
“It is still dreadful,” he said, and then turned an apologetic look on his friend. “I do not blame you, of course, Bingley.”
Bingley waved a casual hand and said, “I do not pretend to be a great scholar, and I have no books of my own to add to the library left behind by the Platchetts.”
“Well, in that case, Mr. Darcy, would you care to visit my library?” Mr. Bennet inquired. “I am always eager to speak with another bibliophile, and I am confident the rest of the party can manage without us for fifteen minutes or so.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Darcy replied.