Vol 2, Chapter 8 #2
“Yes, dear,” his wife smiled. She blew out the last candle and snuggled into her beloved husband’s arms.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Thanks to an express sent by the solicitor in Scarborough placing a notice in The Times that a lady was seeking a companion, on her second day at Grenier’s Hotel Miss Bingley interviewed four ladies.
She felt one’s characters stood out above the rest, so she hired Mrs. Karen Younge without researching her references, as she remembered that Miss Darcy had once had a companion with a similar name.
If only she had paid more attention to the inane chatter of the mousey brat, but Mrs. Younge claimed to have never worked for the Darcys, so Miss Bingley did not inquire further about the possibility again.
Mrs. Younge had learnt her lesson after she discovered how much Wickham had been using her.
She had heard nothing from him for months and months until she started to receive beseeching letters for help from Marshalsea.
When she did not respond right away, the letters turned crueller in tone.
After one particularly abusive letter, she had begun to consign them unopened to the fire.
Thankfully, he seemed to have received the message and had ceased writing letters to her.
She had used fake characters to gain this job, but she was determined to act as she should going forward. A few days after being hired, Mrs. Younge accompanied her mistress to a house close to Mayfair which was owned by a widow who was offering one floor for rent.
Miss Bingley approved of the apartment and paid Mrs. Beatrice Ralston, the owner, for two months.
She had comfortable chambers for herself and a smaller chamber for her companion.
As the house had a mews that was not used because Mrs. Ralston did not keep a carriage, Miss Bingley contacted her solicitor’s man in London and had him purchase her a conveyance and two horses, asking him to hire a coachman and footman on her behalf.
She cared not that she was continuing to expend her capital, as she was sure that once her plan had started to work, she would be snapped up by a man of means, perhaps even Mr. Darcy, if he had finally come to his senses.
She vowed to make him ask twice after the words hurled in her direction the night she accidentally had gone into his room.
To be safe, in case the Bennets returned to Town before it was reported in the gossip columns, Miss Bingley and her companion took teas at a little teashop on Bond Street with a good view of those coming and going from Madame Chambourg’s shop.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
While Bennet relaxed in the library with the latest offering by the scandalous Lord Byron in his hand, his wife and children accompanied Darcy and Georgiana on a ride up a bridal path that offered a fine view of the estate. On a clear day, one could see the Peaks in the distance.
Elizabeth had been impressed with the extensive stables at Pemberley and the amount of quality horseflesh.
Luckily, the Darcys owned enough horses trained for side-saddle, which they had not expected as it was only he and Georgiana in residence most of the time.
After about an hour and climbing in single file up the steep path, they reached a plateau which offered a view that was better than advertised.
“That way,” Darcy pointed to the southwest, “twenty-five miles is Andrew’s estate, Hilldale.
Snowhaven, my aunt’s and uncle’s estate, is fifteen miles southeast of us, and Richard’s Brookfield is ten miles west,” Darcy pointed.
“William, this view is everything you and Gigi told us it would be and more,” Priscilla enthused. “I am sorry we could not convince Thomas to join us.”
“Are those the Peaks?” Mark asked, pointing to the shimmering view due west in the distance.
“They are,” Georgiana nodded, her smile brightening at the chance to share this special spot with their family.
They already were family to her and would be able to claim as such soon.
“We are lucky it is a clear day today and they are not hidden by clouds.” After so many years of relative solitude on the estate but for their Fitzwilliam family, the recent past had been a particular pleasure for herself and, she was sure, her brother.
“William, your estate is everything you said and so much more. It is so peaceful up here,” Elizabeth stated, her horse resting next to the stallion Darcy was riding. Zeus has been left in Town, so he was riding Dylan, a younger horse who had been broken and trained in the last six months.
“It pleases me you think so, Elizabeth. This is a place I come to when I want to think. I spent a lot of time here in this exact spot last December after my uncle’s set-down,” Darcy owned.
“I am sorry; it must have been painful for you,” Elizabeth empathised.
“It was both needed and deserved. We would not be friends if I had not received the kick in the a…pants Uncle Reggie delivered,” Darcy admitted.
“And we would not have been friends if my mother had not made me think about my behaviour,” Elizabeth acknowledged. “If I behaved as I used to, I may have missed the truth of the man you are, William.”
“We promised to begin again, so let us not argue who owns the bigger fault for the past, especially as it is clearly me!” William teased.
“When did you start coming to this beautiful place to think?” Elizabeth complied with the suggestion they move forward.