Chapter Twenty #2
The children still were engaged in a happy exploration of the many toys that the nursery was supplied with, under the careful observation of Sally. They would have viewed it as a rather serious imposition to be kept in the room to receive the calls, rather than a favor.
The first party, depending upon close friendship to make arriving rather too early for propriety acceptable, was Mr. Bingley and his sisters.
Bingley came in smiling, grinning, and delighted to see Darcy.
He was very happy to have the introduction to Mrs. Darcy made.
He greeted Georgiana cheerfully, without showing any consciousness of her now being a scandalous object.
He then frowned deeply when he referred to Darcy’s recent wound, and begged Darcy to tell him that he was alright, and fully healthy.
Elizabeth replied for Darcy, being far more conversant in his health than Darcy was himself. Bingley’s sisters gave polite, but restrained greetings to both Elizabeth and Georgiana. Darcy thought there was a little resentment or envy in Miss Bingley’s manner of looking towards Elizabeth.
As for Georgiana, they paid her no more attention than that initial greeting—the old habits of calling her dearest Georgiana and loudly declaring that they loved her were past.
Darcy was happy for the change. He’d once had a notion to encourage a match between Bingley and Georgiana, once she was old enough to be properly out.
Bingley was one of his closest friends, and further he was the friend who Darcy thought to be by manner and temperament the most likely to make an easy husband.
As soon as Bingley heard from Elizabeth that she lived in Hertfordshire, Bingley exclaimed, “My man of business suggested that I look at an estate that is for lease in the county. I’ve heard that it is a fine place that will meet my requirements perfectly.
Do you know of a place called Netherfield? ”
“Netherfield is but three miles from my home—or my parents’ home.
I can tell you that the principal rooms are well sized for great dinner parties and balls.
In the day of the old baronet, he threw a great many—you may not wish to imitate him too closely in that respect.
The debts he took on to fund those entertainments are, I believe, a principal part of why his son found himself obliged to lease out the family seat. ”
Bingley laughed. “You are much like Darcy. Darcy always worries that I shall be too generous to my friends—just because I’ve a great pile of money from my father, does not mean that I can spend with no attention to the future.
Ah, but it is so delightful to have a crowd about me, everyone smiling.
And private balls are so much superior to public ones, though public ones are likewise so much superior to not dancing at all.
But I like very much what you say of this estate. ”
“My family would be happy to have you as a near neighbor,” Elizabeth said, “and your friendship with Darcy would be an additional incentive for him to frequently take us to visit my family home.”
“Of course,” Bingley replied. “You would all be always welcome to stay.” Then he laughed self-consciously at himself. “That is, of course, if I take the place. Can’t offer for you to stay there if I don’t.”
“I will certainly not hold it against you if the rooms do not agree with you. You must please yourself in deciding where to lease.”
“Yes, but it is in such a good proximity to London, while also being on the road towards where the rest of my family lives in the far north, that I cannot imagine not taking it, not when I know that the neighborhood is very good—”
“How do you know that?” Elizabeth smiled at Bingley.
“It produced you, so how could it be otherwise?”
“Flattery.” Elizabeth now looked at Darcy, and something in her eyes made his stomach leap. She said seriously looking at him, “You hardly say any nonsense to me.”
“I apologize, madam,” Darcy replied, “but I always wish for you to take each compliment I pay to you with the utmost seriousness.”
She smiled at him, warmly, with encouragement in her eyes.
Darcy’s mouth suddenly felt dry. “Believe me when I say this. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.”
Her face went red. She flushed. She smiled. She looked down with the blush and then looked back up at him. “See, and now I cannot say that is nonsense, even though it is, for you believe it.”
She bit her lip and seemed to glow.
“Very lucky man, Darcy,” Bingley said. “And under what circumstances did you two meet?”
“Uh, well,” Darcy began.
But then Bingley blushed, “Oh, yes. We all heard—ahem. That unpleasantness of a duel. Ahem, but—really, what was the case? I cannot believe those stories about Georgiana, and I know that you wouldn’t shoot a fellow because you wished to marry his wife—” Then Bingley looked at Elizabeth in an anxious way, as though seriously worried that his saying that may have offended her.
“Though, I am certain that your beauty could inspire men to kill each other, but—”
Elizabeth laughed. “While I have doubts that my face could launch a thousand ships, I am certain that it cannot without being seen. It was only after that ‘unpleasantness’ that we met.”
“I am afraid,” Darcy said quietly and firmly, “that whatever you have heard about Georgiana is likely to be true. At least the truth is very serious, and likely to have permanent consequences.”
His initial instinct would have been to hide everything that could be hidden about the matter.
But a man was dead. He thought that his sister was with child.
He hated disguise in every form. And…appearances and how society thought of one, and everything of that sort just did not matter so very much.
The world could look at them as it would. If men despised him, he would at least not need to worry about them presenting as false friends.
Bingley glanced towards Georgiana, who sat on the other side of the room, paying all her attention to her embroidery she was engaged in, and none of it to Bingley’s sisters who spoke to each other, occasionally glancing either towards Elizabeth or towards Georgiana.
There was a pressing together of Bingley’s lips, and for half a moment Darcy feared that his friend would say something that would require that he end one of his dearest connections.
His sister was dearer.
But Bingley nodded. “Poor Georgiana—but what do you mean to do?” He glanced at his sisters. “However, I know that you at least will not discuss such private matters in this space.”
“No, but also I can honestly say that I do not yet know what we shall do.”
“Poor Georgiana,” Bingley exclaimed again.
Soon other guests came in the room to make their call and be introduced to Elizabeth, and shortly after that the time came for Bingley’s call to end, as he was reminded of at nearly the precise minute by his sisters.
He departed after gaining an agreement from Darcy and Elizabeth to dine with him before they left London.
The collection of persons who came to make their fifteen- or twenty-minute visit made up a rather thin crowd.
They were mostly persons like Bingley who he was on particular terms of friendship with.
Darcy was not, however, surprised. Society must be uncertain about whether Elizabeth would be considered good ton or not.
He’d feared that it would be a great crush, like it seemed to be at the theater the previous night.
Darcy supposed that making a morning call on a gentleman and his new wife was a more particular sign of intending to maintain a connection than dropping by to shake that gentleman’s hand during a play and just happening to become acquainted through that with his odd bride.
And of course there was Georgiana.
Darcy received oblique questions from many of his guests about her, about his plans for her, and it was clear that while men respected him for having defended her honor by killing a man in a duel—most of his friends assumed that was the true story—this did not mean that his sister was not scandal touched.
Over time Darcy rather regretted Georgiana’s presence in the room.
She was uncomfortable, and both he and Elizabeth were too busy as hosts to work to make her more comfortable, and there were too many friends, whose connection was too distant, for Darcy to trust them to help his sister.
All the gentlemen were admiring of Elizabeth. She was so lovely and beautiful, and so perfectly warm, bright, engaging and yet polite with his guests that no one could wonder why he had attached himself to her.
Yes, it was likely surprising that he had married a woman who was, strictly in terms of wealth and consequence, beneath him. But Elizabeth’s true value was easy to see.
The next morning, they finally managed their visit to the booksellers—though Elizabeth spent rather less than she had planned, as Darcy had to confess many times to already owning a copy of the books that she wished to purchase. In the end, Mr. Bennet was the chief beneficiary of this visit.
Then in the evening they went to dine with the Gardiners.
While he did not say this to Elizabeth, Darcy had some concern about this visit.
It felt odd to dine with a man still in trade.
And he had a concern that he would be unable to enjoy the dinner.
It was a generally believed thing that those who were presently in trade had their minds too filled with the seeking for and earning of wealth to pay attention to more important matters.
Though given the characters of those idle gentlemen who frequently said this, what they seemed to mean as more important things were card games, fox hunting, horse races, elaborate pranks, cheating those tradesmen who deserved to be bilked due to their obsession with money, and, for variety, the occasional murderous duel.