Chapter 7
“I confess to being startled at what transpired at Lucas Lodge this evening,” Bingley mused, handing a glass of brandy to his friend. His two sisters and Mr. Hurst had already retired for the night, but Darcy seemed restless so Bingley had invited him to play a game of billiards.
Darcy carefully lined up his cue and shot before responding, “Was it a surprise? I asked Miss Catherine to dance with me and she was unavailable. Such things have been known to happen.”
Bingley scoffed aloud and took a sip of brandy, “Nonsense, Darcy. It was a snub, and a very elegant one. Miss Mary was playing the pianoforte very happily, and the duet was clearly a mere excuse. I gathered from Miss Bennet’s conversation that Miss Elizabeth is something of a firebrand.
Clearly, she did not appreciate your rude speech about Miss Kitty at the assembly and sought to put you in your place. ”
Darcy stared at his friend incredulously and shook his head, “Surely not. No country girl, no matter how high spirited, would be foolish enough to deliberately spurn me, Darcy of Pemberley.”
Bingley shook his head, took another careful shot with the cue, and straightened to his full height, “My dear fellow, you will not listen to me, will you? Yes, you are wealthy and well connected, but why should that matter to the inhabitants of Meryton and its environs? The Bennets are the principal family in these parts, and the young ladies are respected and well liked. It is not surprising that Miss Elizabeth would rebuff you, nor has your haughty demeanor ingratiated you with the other inhabitants of this place. Even your request for a dance was made coldly, and I could see that Miss Kitty was distressed at the very thought of standing up with you.”
Darcy looked at his friend in amazement before setting aside his cue and wandering over to stare out into the moonlit garden behind the house.
“Am I truly so bad, Bingley?” he asked unhappily.
“Darcy, you have been a loyal and faithful friend to me these many years, and I count you a dear companion. I merely am concerned that your demeanor is such that new acquaintances find you unpleasant, even rude, when you are in actuality a very fine fellow.”
Perplexed, Darcy turned around to face his friend, “I confess to bemusement over this entire affair. In London, filled as it is with the cream of society, I am welcomed with open arms. Here, in a rural neighborhood, I am spurned. It is a peculiar experience.”
Bingley shrugged, “Would you prefer that people venerate you for your wealth and connections when your outward character is so forbidding?”
The taller gentleman smiled reluctantly, “It would be far easier, would it not?”
“Life is not always easy, Darcy. I, as the son of a tradesman, have learned to be friendly and obliging whereas you have been accepted because of your pedigree. I daresay this will be a good experience for you.”
/
Elizabeth looked up from her nuncheon with interest as the servant handed Miss Bennet a note.
“It is a letter from Miss Bingley!” Jane exclaimed happily, accepting the letter and opening it.
“From Miss Bingley!” Mrs. Bennet cried out in delight. “Do read it aloud, my love!”
Jane lifted her voice obediently.
My dear Friend,
If you are not so compassionate as to dine today with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day’s tete-a-tete between two women can never end without a quarrel.
Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this.
My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.
Yours ever, Caroline Bingley
“How unlucky that the gentlemen will be away,” Mrs. Bennet pouted. “I daresay you will not see Mr. Bingley at all, Jane. Nonetheless, you must go. You and Mr. Bingley’s sisters are becoming very good friends, which is a marvelous step toward marrying the man himself.”
“May I take the carriage, Elizabeth?” Jane inquired eagerly.
Elizabeth nodded slowly, “I believe so. I will have to send a servant to fetch the horses from the farm but yes, by all means.”
“She should go on horseback,” Mrs. Bennet suggested. “That way the workhorses can do all the work on the farm which you deem so important, Lizzy. Did you not say just yesterday that they are very busy at the moment?”
Jane looked concerned, “Perhaps Mama is right. I can ride Buttercup to Netherfield. Do not send for the horses on my account.”
Elizabeth walked up to a window and peered outside for a long minute before turning around decisively, “No, I had best call for the horses and the coach. It looks like it is going to rain.”
Mrs. Bennet, who had been attempting to speak in a casual tone, now sprang to her feet, “Yes, it is going to rain and thus Jane must ride! Just think, if it rains she will not be able to return home tonight and thus will see Mr. Bingley after he returns from his dinner with the officers!”
Elizabeth suppressed a frustrated groan, “Mother, there will be plenty of opportunities for Jane to spend time with Mr. Bingley. There is no need to expose her to the dangers of a storm.”
“I insist, Lizzy, absolutely insist that you not send for the carriage! One of you girls must win a wealthy husband before your father is dead! None of you have any compassion for my nerves!”
Elizabeth took a deep breath, quietly exited the room, and sent a servant for the horses and carriage.
/
“It is an absolute quagmire out there, Lizzy,” Mary commented, causing her sister to look up from her sewing in surprise.
Elizabeth had seen Jane off in the carriage, dealt with estate business, played a game of chess with her only slightly inebriated father, and was now sewing a patch on a petticoat while considering the purchase of the neighboring field.
In the midst of what was a typically busy day, she had not noticed how hard and long the rain had fallen.
Elizabeth congratulated herself once again for sending Jane to Netherfield in the carriage over her mother’s protests – her poor sister would have been dreadfully wet otherwise! It was late afternoon now, and the carriage would have already departed to bring Jane home.
“Miss Elizabeth,” a young maid said tentatively from the door.
“Yes, Emily?”
“I apologize for disturbing you, Miss, but the coachman needs to speak to you at the rear door.”
Elizabeth frowned and, setting her work aside, quickly walked to the back of Longbourn where the coachman, Jack, a middle aged retainer of the family, was waiting with an expression even more lugubrious than usual.
“I am sorry, Miss Elizabeth,” the man said with a hint of accusation in his eye, “but a few minutes ago, the right coach wheel sank in that pool of mud near the front entrance and it broke when we tried to get it out.”
Elizabeth moaned softly. Jack had warned her only a week ago that the entrance to Longbourn needed more gravel, but she had foolishly decided to wait to purchase the necessary rocks to solidify the lane.
She had thought that with winter coming, mud would not be a concern until spring. She had been wrong.
“I apologize, Jack,” she said contritely. “I ought to have authorized funds for that load of gravel as you suggested.”
“I can send one of the boys to Netherfield on horseback leading Buttercup,” Jack proposed, his expression lightening with Elizabeth’s admission of failure. “That way Miss Bennet can return tonight on horseback.”
Elizabeth cast a concerned look at the sky. It was more misting than raining now, but it might well rain hard again.
“No, Jack, I fear she might get a thorough wetting. Better to wait until tomorrow when either the coach will be fixed or the weather will have cleared so she can come home safely on horseback. I will write notes to Miss Bingley and Jane to explain the situation, and will have Emily pack some clothes for Jane so that she is comfortable tonight. I hope one of your intrepid boys will not mind a rather wet ride.”
“Of course not, Miss Elizabeth.”
/
Fitzwilliam Darcy opened the gate into the nearby field and then halted to kick his boots against a convenient fencepost. The sun was low in the eastern sky and a hint of dawn painted the horizon pink.
The previous day’s rainstorm had left the paths around Netherfield a muddy disaster, and his boots were caked with heavy, wet soil.
Nonetheless, he relished this opportunity to stretch his legs, to breathe in the crisp morning air, to think.
Ever since he had been refused a dance with Miss Kitty at Lucas Lodge, his mind kept returning to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
That in itself was bewildering. Miss Jane Bennet was the beauty of the family and was blessed with a charming personality as well.
Miss Catherine Bennet was the lady whom he had insulted in public, and thus he was morally required to atone for his unkindness.
But Miss Elizabeth was neither the beauty nor the injured party, so why would he care about her?
The truth was that he found Miss Elizabeth Bennet quite a conundrum.
That was not a particular surprise – Darcy found many people confusing – but it rarely bothered him.
This time, however, he felt a strange distress in his soul.
The young lady had snubbed and glared at him, and instead of feeling angry or insulted, he felt unsettled and ashamed.
Why was that? The girl was not especially beautiful, though her fine eyes, brown with tints of gold, were remarkable, and her manners were clearly not those of fashionable society.
She was a nobody, the second daughter of a country gentleman of apparently ill health, since Darcy had never met the man in company.
Yet, Darcy found himself thinking of her often, and even pricking up his ears when her name was mentioned in company. He found himself wanting to know more of her, which was completely absurd.