Chapter 8
Netherfield Park
Merry voices rang through the tall, slender trunks and thickly needled branches of fir and pine and spruce.
The air was crisp with cold and the spicy scent of evergreens, while a thin powder-sugar dusting of snow glittered on dark green needles and brown wood.
The footsteps of the tree-hunting party crunched upon the mere two inches of snowfall, which was a delight rather than a hindrance, as they all sought the perfect tree.
The northern slopes of Netherfield Park were thick with evergreens, each of which had the potential to grace the drawing room of the Hall with its splendor.
Most of the house party had turned out, as well as several specially invited guests.
Elizabeth, of course, was always up for an adventure, as was Lydia, with Kitty following her lead.
Jane, too, had joined, somewhat to Elizabeth’s surprise, with only Mary declining to accompany the group in preference of staying in the warm indoors.
Now Charles and Georgiana Bingley, Caroline, Mr. Darcy, his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, and the Bennet sisters, along with several of the stable hands and the tallest, strongest footmen from the house, wandered among the trees in search of the most suitable Christmas tree.
It was all very joyous and companionable and, Elizabeth thought as she looked around, very beautiful.
“You will not wish for a particularly tall tree, I guess, Miss Bingley,” Lydia said, looking around.
Caroline nodded and said, “Yes, it must fit in the drawing room, so it needs to be a reasonable height, and furthermore, if it is too large in girth, I doubt it will fit through the doorways.”
“I suppose you could cut it shorter if necessary,” Kitty remarked and Mr. Bingley, standing at his wife’s side, said, “We have done that in the past, certainly, but it would look rather odd if we have to chop part of the top off. Certainly we can cut off the trunk or trim some of the branches at the bottom so that it can sit in its stand, but it is far easier when we can find a tree that is about the right height and shape to start with.”
“What about this one?” Caroline suggested, pointing a gloved finger at a tree tucked behind a taller one.
Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy walked over to stare at it, and Elizabeth found her gaze resting on the taller of the two gentlemen.
She found Mr. Darcy to be an interesting and admirable man.
He was handsome, undoubtedly, but it was his intelligence and diligence that most attracted her.
Not that it was a romantic attraction, of course!
It would be unacceptable for her to look at Mr. Darcy in such a way, given that the gentleman was engaged to Miss Bingley.
But compared to her own father, who did little beyond sit in his library reading books, she could not help but hope that someday she would meet a gentleman with similar characteristics to Mr. Darcy.
“I think this one will do us very well,” Bingley said with a grin, which caused Elizabeth to shake loose of her reverie and turn her attention on the tree in question.
It appeared, she thought, like many other trees, except a trifle smaller and narrower.
The whole concept of a tree inside the house was unusual, but she looked forward to seeing what it would look like once it was installed and decorated.
***
Netherfield Park
The Next Day
Wednesday, 18th December, 1811
Either they had been expected or the carriage wheels had been heard, for as the five Bennet sisters climbed the steps to the front door of Netherfield Hall, it swung open, the butler visible inside waiting for them.
A bevy of maids stood in readiness behind him, and as the Bennet girls tumbled inside in a flurry of steaming breath and jollity, the maids stepped forward to claim the many pelisses and gloves and scarves and bonnets being whisked off.
For a moment all was bustle and confusion, but then the outer garments were carried off to the cloakroom, and the Bennet sisters were patting hair and smoothing dresses.
Elizabeth and Jane looked over their sisters, then each other, and then the butler led them into the drawing room and announced, “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia Bennet.”
Elizabeth stepped in the drawing room in Jane’s wake and stopped short, staring in wonder, until Mary nudged her gently in the back, which caused her to step aside to free the doorway in spite of her delighted awe.
Yesterday in the forest, the chosen tree had looked small, almost puny, next to its more imposing brethren.
Inside, regal and straight in its wooden stand, the tree was tall and proud and lovely.
The furniture had been moved out of its corner and hastily rearranged to make sufficient room for the tree.
Finally Elizabeth tore her eyes away from it and surveyed the rest of the room.
Mrs. and Miss Bingley stood beside the tree with an interesting heap of goods on a small table behind them.
Beside the fire across from the door, Mrs. Hurst was, rather surprisingly, present and sipping tea.
Her mother sat opposite her, also holding a cup and saucer.
“Oh, good morning, ladies!” Caroline cried out after the butler announced them, and Jane said, “Good morning Caroline, Mrs. Bingley.”
“Oh, please do call me Georgiana,” the young matron said shyly, and Elizabeth said, “Georgiana, then. And please feel free to call us by our Christian names. The tree looks lovely there.”
“Thank you,” Caroline said happily. “It will look even better when we decorate it. Would you care to help?”
“Of course!” Kitty declared.
“Then come over here, please,” Caroline invited. “We brought my grandmother’s candle holders from our family home in Scarborough, and we also have tinsel to adorn the branches, along with some paper roses and marzipan and sugar ornaments.”
“It is all terribly fun!” Lydia exclaimed, hastily making her way over to the tree.
Her sisters followed, but within a minute, it was obvious that there was not enough room for all of them to work on the tree at the same time, and Elizabeth and Jane, by silent consent, retreated to the fire to speak with the older women.
There was a small couch there, and the two elder Bennets sat down. Jane said, “Mrs. Hurst, how are you today?”
The lady, who had a warm cup of tea in her hands, said, “I am as well as can be expected, I suppose. Thank you both for helping find the tree yesterday. It is beautiful, is it not, Mamma?”
Elizabeth turned a curious look on Lady Bingley and was pleased to observe a soft smile on the older woman’s face. She was quite certain that Lady Bingley, for no discernible reason, had contempt for the Bennets, but she appeared happier than usual today.
“It is,” Lady Bingley said. “Oh, how it takes me back to my childhood! My dear grandmother brought the candlesticks from Germany, and at night, when the candles were lit, it was magical!”
“It will be equally magical here, Mother,” Mrs. Hurst said fondly.
“It sounds very beautiful,” Jane said, “but is it entirely safe to have candles lit on branches?”
“The key is to keep the tree well watered,” Mrs. Hurst explained.
“The stand holds water, you see, and the tree continues to draw liquid into its needles so they remain fresh and moist, which discourages them burning. Also, we always choose a tree which has branches well separated from one another on the trunk, so we can set up the candles some distance from the needles above. Of course, we never leave the candles lit without someone in the room.”
“That all makes sense,” Elizabeth said, and Lady Bingley remarked, “Perhaps next year we can all gather at Pemberley and put up a tree there. Netherfield Park is all very well, but Pemberley is even more beautiful, and a tree would set off the drawing room to remarkable advantage.”
“What is the geography like in Derbyshire?” Elizabeth asked. “Is it hillier than here in Hertfordshire?”
“Oh, indeed it is, Miss Elizabeth,” Lady Bingley said in a return of her habitually proud tone.
“I find the lands around Netherfield to be sadly flat and dull. Indeed, I could barely keep from laughing when Lady Lucas declared Oakham Mount to have scenic views from its summit. It is more a small hill than a mountain compared to the scenery of Derbyshire.”
Elizabeth compressed her lips at these haughty words, and Mrs. Hurst had the grace to look a little ashamed, but before any further discussion could take place, the door opened to reveal the four gentlemen in residence.
The visiting ladies curtsied, and the men bowed slightly, and Mr. Bingley turned a beaming face on the tree and said, “Oh, it looks lovely already, and you have not yet put on the candles!”
“It does look well,” Georgiana said with a shy smile, and Caroline said, “We are just about ready to wire the candleholders on, but we need someone tall. Charles, would you be willing to help? And perhaps another gentleman?”
Elizabeth was a little surprised that Miss Bingley did not call upon her betrothed, and she was even more surprised when she observed that Mr. Darcy was looking at her, not his fiancée.
But Bingley, along with Colonel Fitzwilliam, made their way over to the tree to help decorate it, while Mr. Hurst searched and found the brandy bottle, and Mr. Darcy came over, in his deliberate way, to the fire and the ladies.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, smiling at him. “We were just speaking of Derbyshire, and Lady Bingley told us that the country around your estate is exceptional.”
“It is very beautiful,” Darcy acknowledged with a smile. “The Pennines run across the northern section of Derbyshire, and while Pemberley is some distance from the mountains themselves, there are lovely views of the foothills to the north.”
“It sounds charming,” Jane said.
“What about the farming, though,” Elizabeth inquired. “With so many hills, is much of the land unsuitable for farming?”
Lady Bingley looked indignant at these words and said, “My dear Miss Elizabeth, if you had ever seen Pemberley, you would not ask such foolish questions.”
“Ah, but I have not seen Pemberley,” she said with a smile.
“Moreover, your question is entirely reasonable, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said, taking a chair a few feet away from her.
“There are sections of the estate that are too steep to be used as farmland, but we have vast tracts of trees which provide both timber and livelihood for some of our people. There is a section in the northeastern part of the estate which is so stony that neither tree nor crop can grow with ease. That section is largely pasture land for goats.”
Elizabeth nodded and said, “Our home farm does not have goats, but I understand they are quite clever creatures and far better suited for rocky terrain than sheep or cows.”
“My dear father used to say that sheep were the only ones of God’s creatures who are always searching for the quickest way to die,” Darcy said solemnly, and Elizabeth chuckled and was rewarded by a chuckle in return.
She found herself drawing in a quick breath as warmth flooded her body.
He was genuinely so handsome, and when he smiled, he was…
Lady Bingley, at her right, cleared her throat in a significant way, and Elizabeth, blushing, turned her face toward the Christmas tree. She ought not to react this way, she ought not! The man was, after all, engaged to another woman.
Fortunately, the sight before her, of the tree in all its splendor, with apples and tinsel and gingerbread, with the candles now lit, distracted her entirely.
“Oh, how beautiful!” she cried out, rising to her feet, and Jane rose with her and said, “Indeed it is.”
“Oh Jane, Lizzy,” Lydia said excitedly, “do you think Mamma would permit us to have a Christmas tree next year?”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth replied with a smile, just as servants entered with refreshments. The decorating party found chairs and sofas for themselves, and Georgiana, with help from Caroline, served everyone, and the conversation became general.
Elizabeth enjoyed the time very much, but deep down, she was uneasy about her reaction to Mr. Darcy. She was an honorable and intelligent woman, and to be drawn to a man bound to another woman was dreadful.
Then again, one could not always control one’s own heart, but she could control her actions.
Mr. Darcy was a remarkable individual in that he was faithful, diligent, and kindly.
She would be careful in her dealings with the gentleman, taking hope from the reality that there were other sensible, honorable, intelligent, hardworking men in England.
Perhaps there was another Englishman like Mr. Darcy, who was meant for her.