Chapter 31 Courtship
As Friday approached, Elizabeth found herself nearly incapable of applying her mind to any steady occupation. Two days before, she received a letter from Georgiana.
My brother has this day received an invitation from Mr. Bingley, requesting that we visit his new estate in Hertfordshire.
He informs me it lies but three miles from Longbourn, and therefore I shall have the happiness of seeing you again later this week.
We shall follow closely upon this letter, which will likely arrive only a few days before we do.
Fitzwilliam is to assist Mr. Bingley in arranging the estate's autumn management.
He has explained to me in considerable detail, far more than I find engaging, that October is the proper season for planting winter wheat and rye.
As Mr. Bingley is inexperienced in such matters, my brother will survey the fields with him, ensure they are properly plowed and amended, and confirm that the seed has been procured.
He has also recommended that young stock be planted in the Autumn, particularly bare-root apples, pears, plums, and Moor Park apricots.
Just thinking of these fruits makes me long to wander through the orchard, helping myself to the ripened fruit.
They will have sufficient occupation throughout the autumn and winter.
Fitzwilliam permits me to bring my horse, that I may ride over to visit you each day, if you will allow it. I long to tell you more of Mr. W when we are together.
I continue to write to Miss Kitty. She does not find herself contented in Kent. She laments the want of companions of her own age and misses her former friends. She hopes to be permitted to return home before long. I wish it might be so that we might be reunited.
I look forward to our visit with the greatest anticipation. I expect it shall be highly satisfactory, excepting only the presence of Miss B. I close now, as we are soon to be together.
With affection,
Georgiana
Mr. Darcy was expected at Netherfield in two days.
Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had not repeated their visit since their first call.
Mr. Bingley had explained that they were fully engaged in preparing for the Darcys’ arrival, though Elizabeth suspected that Miss Bingley considered Longbourn beneath her notice.
Mr. Bingley’s visits had certainly proved more agreeable in her absence, unaccompanied by criticism of their dress, conversation, or household arrangements.
That evening, Elizabeth asked, “Jane, has Mr. Bingley spoken again of his intentions for Caroline?”
“No. He was greatly disturbed, Lizzy. Though he acknowledged the justice of your observations, he finds it painful to wound his sister in so direct a manner.”
Elizabeth suppressed a sigh. Mr. Bingley’s amiability might yet prove a weakness. She hoped that Jane would, in time, learn to assert herself where necessary.
At dinner, Elizabeth addressed her father.
“Papa, Kitty remains unhappy in Kent. Might we not send for her? The Collinses are newly married and may wish for some privacy. From Mary’s letters, it appears that she devotes much time to keeping Kitty contented and occupied.
Should we not relieve them and allow Kitty to be useful here?
Jane and I would ensure that she is properly employed. ”
Mr. Bennet regarded her with a hint of amusement. “Lizzy, I believe that Jane will soon be the mistress of her own home. Her suitor seems determined to secure her hand.”
Elizabeth laughed. “That is very apparent, sir, and for that reason, Kitty will be of great assistance to me. She could accompany me on tenant visits. I should be glad of her company, and we might pursue further study in history and the use of the globes. We both stand in need of greater proficiency at the pianoforte, and I should insist upon regular practice.”
“Very well, my dear. Kitty may return home. I shall write to Mr. Collins and request that he come for a week if his patroness will allow it. He may return Kitty to us, and I also wish to examine the ledgers with him and instruct him more fully in the management of the estate, particularly as we prepare for winter planting.”
Elizabeth leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Papa. It is generous of you to guide your heir.”
“In guiding him, Lizzy, I secure provision for my married daughter and for any of my daughters who remain unmarried after I am gone. It is no more than my obligation to ensure he is capable of running the estate.”
On Friday morning, Elizabeth stood upon Oakham Mount, awaiting the sunrise, while Sparky occupied himself by barking at the squirrels.
“Hush, Sparky. Leave the poor creatures in peace.”
He ran from one tree to another, setting his forepaws against the trunk and barking upward at the small russet forms that peered down as though to mock him.
She had slept little the night before and feared that her wakefulness was evident in her countenance. A faint shadow lingered beneath her eyes, betraying her unrest. She hoped it might fade before Mr. Darcy should call at Longbourn.
The walk had refreshed her somewhat, and as she stood beneath the oaks and heard the birds in song, she drew a measured breath and regarded the prospect before her.
Her gaze traveled from Longbourn to Meryton and onward to the distant horizon, where the estates lay scattered across the valley.
She distinguished Netherfield among them, soon to become her sister’s home.
Her heart swelled with satisfaction for Jane, who need no longer dread the attentions of Mr. Goulding.
Then she saw him. Mr. Darcy. He approached on a fine black stallion. She had not before enjoyed the sight of him upon horseback, and the ease with which he held his seat did much to enhance his already striking appearance.
He rode at a brisk pace, urging his mount along the lane. Elizabeth followed his progress until she perceived that Oakham Mount was his destination. Her heart began to beat with unwelcome force as he drew nearer.
What was she to say? Could she conceal her feelings from him? She resolved not to appear grasping, nor give the impression of presuming upon an acquaintance beyond her sphere.
Before she had mastered her agitation, he had reached the summit. She drew a slow breath and watched as he surveyed the meadow. His eyes moved along the line of trees, taking in the prospect, and she observed the slight curve of his mouth, signaling his approval.
He must soon discover her presence. She stood motionless, scarcely daring to breathe. The strain pressed upon her so heavily that she considered retreating down the hill rather than endure another moment of heady anticipation. She feared that her internal discomposure would betray her.
At last, his gaze fell upon her, and she saw him start in surprise; then he smiled.
It was no restrained expression, but a true, open smile, unlike the measured emotions she had so often witnessed while in his company in London.
She watched intently as he guided his horse nearer, dismounted, and dropped the reins on the ground.
“Miss Elizabeth, it has been months since I last had the pleasure of seeing you.”
She observed his gaze travel from her face downward and then return, as she bobbed a curtsy.
“Mr. Darcy.”
“You appear remarkably well, even in the severity of your mourning attire. I confess I was uneasy for your health. Caroline represented that you were much altered and that she should scarcely have known you again.”
Elizabeth felt the warmth rise in her cheeks, vexed that Caroline had sought to diminish her in Mr. Darcy’s estimation.
“I am relieved to discover that she was mistaken. You look exceedingly well.” He paused, searching her face, and she noted that his complexion had heightened. “You must forgive me. I am extremely relieved to find you in good health and have perhaps spoken with more animation than is proper.”
His expression grew more serious as he regarded her more closely. “Yet I perceive that you have endured much. Have you found it difficult to sleep?”
“No, sir, I am quite well. I thank you for your concern, but there is no reason, that is to say, I have nothing of which to complain.”
“Yet, I can see there are faint shadows beneath your eyes. I am sincerely grieved for your loss. Georgiana informed me that you were apprehensive for your father’s life, and that your mother’s death followed soon after. How does your father fare?”
“My father is greatly improved, sir. We no longer fear for his health. As for the loss of my mother, it was a severe blow.”
“Yes, I comprehend it well. My own mother was but one and thirty when she passed. It was a grievous loss to my family, and most particularly to my father, who was devoted to her. He chose to remain single and dedicated himself to his two children. Sadly, Georgiana was in her infancy when our mother passed and has no remembrance of her.”
“I am sorry for your loss, sir. In our situation, I believe that had my mother permitted us to attend her more closely during her illness, she might yet have remained with us, but she refused assistance. I was occupied with my father during the first week, for his breathing was greatly distressed and the influenza had settled upon his lungs, producing inflammation. As his strength returned and we began to hope, my sister Mary informed me that our mother had died in the night, alone.”
Her composure faltered as tears gathered unbidden. She had not wept when the news was first delivered, and she wondered at herself that she should now betray such feeling before Mr. Darcy.
She turned her gaze from him and indicated the valley spread beneath them. “What is your opinion of this prospect, sir?”
He looked not at the landscape but at her. “It is breathtaking.”
“Those are my sentiments precisely. This is my favorite retreat. Whenever I have required solitude in which to think, I have come here to find it.”