Chapter 5
Five
THE REMEDY FOR WHAT AILS HIM
“Charles, you cannot wish to attend another such dull event as you dragged us to last month. Mr Darcy, do not you agree? From the paucity of talent in the musicians, to the size of the assembly rooms, so small and overcrowded, it was simply awful! We could not possibly expect any improvement to our satisfaction. Do please tell my brother your true feelings on the matter. As our guest, we must certainly heed your preferences.”
Bingley opened his mouth, Darcy was certain, in protest of both Miss Bingley’s complaints and Darcy’s potential objections.
Darcy spoke first. “On the contrary, I am certain the neighbourhood would be deeply disappointed if its newest residents failed to appear. They must certainly look forward to the occasion of gazing upon their betters.”
Miss Bingley did not notice the sarcasm, only pursed her lips as she considered.
If there was one object in Miss Bingley’s life, it was to be admired by all who knew her—whether or not she wished to know them.
Bingley, too pleased by Darcy’s refusal to join in Miss Bingley’s complaints to pay close attention, missed it as well.
“I am certain, Darcy, you will not be disappointed. It is a capital neighbourhood, simply capital. Fairest females in the land, I say. You could not have chosen better.”
“And yet you have chosen to exult over only one amongst them,” Darcy replied, wishing to convey mild disapproval regarding his friend’s obsession with Miss Jane Bennet. At the same time, he wanted to encourage the subject, hoping that someone would offer a new clue to Miss Bennet’s other relations.
It had been a few days since his encounter with the strange woman and her brother, Edward. The stableman at Longbourn had been remarkably uncommunicative regarding the pair—almost defiant, even, when he had tried to press for information regarding them, after bringing Gallant to him.
“I failed to pay the lady for the remedy for my horse,” he had explained, after giving the barest summary of Gallant’s altercation with the nettles and his possession of a remedy. “Who might she be?”
“No one who concerns you,” the man named Mr Hill had grunted discourteously. His touch upon Gallant was disproportionately gentle.
“I certainly mean her no harm,” he pushed back, in tones of offended dignity. “It was a simple enquiry.”
“I gave ye a simple answer.” The man had applied the ointment to the horse as easily as if the stallion were a foal and he, his mother.
Something told him that pressing Hill regarding her would only further put his back up. The older man seemed impervious to the demands of his important visitor.
“Perhaps I will go to the house, to relay my thanks and enquire of Mr Philips my questions.”
Darcy, observing the other man closely, had noted the clenched jaw and furious expression at what he plainly interpreted as a threat. In the end he only shrugged, however. “Ye’ll do as ye will.”
He could not escape the feeling that to do so would somehow, in some way, make things more difficult for either the boy or the woman.
His frustration increased along with his curiosity, but it was obvious he would learn nothing from the stableman, and it was not like he could seek her out again to have his questions answered directly.
Instead, he left a generously weighted pouch for her with a surprised Mr Hill, and continued to remain attentive to Bingley’s blathering in the hopes of gaining greater intelligence upon the family than mere appraisals of Miss Bennet’s comeliness.
Thus far, he had been disappointed, and yet for some reason, he could not forget or simply let it go.
News of the upcoming assembly was the first boost to his ‘investigation’, meagre as it was, for his duty of discouraging the romance had meant discouraging calls upon Longbourn’s inhabitants, even at the risk of impeding his reconnaissance.
“Oh! Miss Bennet is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! I do not know why you made excuses at the Harringtons last night to avoid Mrs Bennet’s invitation to dinner. Miss Bennet has assured me that her mother sets a fine table.”
“Is it not Mrs Philips whose table it is, and who ought to have extended the invitation?” he asked. It had struck him as odd at the time, the way Mrs Bennet acted as lady of the manor and Mrs Philips’s purse-lipped—and half-hearted—endorsement of the invitation. Bingley waved this away.
“Not at all. Mrs Bennet still is its mistress. Miss Bennet said that the Philipses are Mrs Bennet’s relations—they moved in when her father died a few years ago, to assist her in the running of the estate.”
Surprising indeed, Darcy thought. He was certain that Mr Philips had at least intimated his ownership of the place, and Miss Bingley, he knew, had believed the same.
Was Miss Bennet an heiress of Longbourn?
If so, frankly it was surprising that she was still unmarried.
The mysteries were piling up, and he regretted his inability to find answers.
Miss Bingley, who was in the habit of assessing the fortune of any of Bingley’s flirtations, instantly perked up at this information. Obviously, the niece of a landowner would not possess the same distinction as a possible heiress, and he watched her opinions do a sudden reversal.
“Miss Bennet is a sweet girl, truly. It is too bad her family is a trial, so noisy and vulgar, although she cannot be accused of the same. Still Charles, you cannot expect Mr Darcy to wish to visit them.”
He did not wish to visit, not really. However, instead of easily pushing what was truly an inconsequential mystery aside, more and more he found himself dwelling upon it.
He had even been tempted, more than once, to return to Longbourn land, to see if he could discover further information about the lovely young woman residing upon it.
However, for now he could look forward to the assembly; if she attended, once his curiosity was satisfied, he was confident that he need not think of her ever again.
Pretty young ladies were never in short supply.