Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The affianced couple drove off, each of them reflecting on the meeting. “He looks as if he has not been well. He is too thin,” observed Jane, after several minutes of silence.
“Yes, I noticed that as well,” Bingley agreed. “I am curious as to what Darcy is doing in an inn such as that. Although it does appear to be a well-kept establishment, it is not of the quality he typically uses for his travels.”
“I wonder who that man was,” he added. “And what is his business in Meryton?”
Jane kept her own counsel. She had some knowledge of Mr Darcy that Charles did not, more pieces of the puzzle, as it were. Could his business have something to do with Lizzy? Had he secreted himself at that inn so she would not see him?
She set those thoughts aside temporarily. Mrs Nicholls had promised her a complete tour of the house that afternoon.
Elizabeth was making a fair copy of her findings and recommendations so they could be presented to her uncle Philips.
She had organised the information by subject with notes attached from her research.
The foundational structure of the charity.
Suggested by-laws, to be voted on by the future trustees.
A means by which new trustees would be chosen.
Rules for budgeting and for choosing recipients.
Guidelines for decisions as to whether loans or grants were most appropriate.
Rules for the trustee officers. The subject of interest on loans.
She had discovered from Reese that Mr Goulding had believed it better to loan money without the requirement of paying interest, as it was done in Hindu tradition.
She had even suggested individuals to fill the remaining open trustee positions.
She thought Mrs Culver, as a recipient of Mr Goulding’s generosity in the past, would make a fine representative for the merchants in town.
She wrote slowly and carefully. Mr Philips’s clerk would write out any copies needed, but she wanted the first version to be in her own hand. It would take more than a day; she would perhaps need to make a few visits to her little office to finish it.
Mr Philips put his head around the corner. “We have a candidate for the position of steward at Haye-Park. He is here now.”
Elizabeth blinked. “Now? You only just placed the notice! It cannot have been published yet!”
Mr Philips nodded. “Yes, curious is it not? I asked him how he had heard of the position. He said his employer Lord Metcalf had informed him. He did not know how Lord Metcalf might have had knowledge of it.”
Lord Metcalf. The name seemed familiar.
“His character references are in order; they are excellent, really. I will drive out to Haye-Park with him; have him meet some of the tenants to get their impressions. Would you care to come along?”
An outing on such a lovely day was appealing. Elizabeth glanced at her notes and the writing she had to do. In her role with the charity, she had no authority over the steward. “Thank you for asking me, Uncle, but I had better attend to this task.”
Mr Philips took his leave, and she once again picked up her pen but did not write.
She sat staring at nothing, wondering at how it had happened again.
She had sought information and received two valuable, unsolicited letters.
She had wanted a way to remove Mr Wickham from her life, and lo, an unknown person had done it.
Haye-Park had unexpectedly needed a new steward, and a suitable one just walked into her uncle’s office.
Coincidence after coincidence after coincidence?
Elizabeth considered herself to be a sensible person. She sternly ordered herself not to attach any uncanny meaning to the unusual events. Surely, sometimes one was just…lucky?
Darcy waited until late in the afternoon to ride to Netherfield.
He did not wish to present himself before Bingley returned.
He sent notes with one of the inn’s stableboys to inform Thompson and Galbraith of his new location and carefully chose to travel on the network of bridle paths instead of the roads.
As he rode up the gravelled drive, he was assailed by his memories. For most of his time spent there the previous year, he had been falling in love, though loath to admit it.
If Elizabeth had not been visiting the parsonage across the lane from Rosings Park in March, would he have given in to his desires and sought her out?
Would he have returned to Hertfordshire?
He did not know. While he had thought of her daily, hourly, over that winter, he had not done so.
It was seeing her almost every day, speaking with her on their walks, watching her cheerfully confound his aunt over and over again that had made him realise that he needed her in his life one way or another.
He had destroyed his own hopes that day in the parsonage, with his foolish assumptions born out of pride and self-importance.
How ridiculous that he was attracted to her in part because she was not swayed by his fortune and consequence, yet he had been insulted when that fortune and consequence had not made her grateful to accept him.
Now all he could do was watch over her from a distance and hope that she never discovered it.
He does not entertain. Miss Bennet had made a point of telling him that Bingley was alone here. Was she giving him a hint that he would not be found out? Where were his sisters?
As he neared the large portico, he saw Bingley and Miss Bennet walking down the front steps. Bingley’s curricle was standing at the ready nearby. Darcy guessed he must be taking Miss Bennet back to Longbourn. He came to a stop and dismounted.
“Darcy!” Bingley called out. “You find me just as I am taking Jane home.” He gestured towards the front doors. “I have directed Mrs Nicholls to prepare rooms for you. You might settle in, and I will return shortly.”
“Charles, you have forgotten your hat,” Miss Bennet pointed out as he made to lead her to the curricle.
“Drat! I cannot arrive at Longbourn without a hat! What will Mrs Bennet say? I shall be but a moment.” Chuckling, Bingley hurried inside.
Darcy stood awkwardly, his hat in his hand, opened his mouth and closed it again.
Finally, he managed, “Miss Bennet, I owe you an apology. I am sorry, very sorry, for having presumed to judge your sentiments. I deeply regret my actions because it was wrong to do so and because they caused both you and Mr Bingley pain. I have learnt a hard lesson and…” He stopped and stared at the ground, not certain how to continue.
“I daresay you have, Mr Darcy. I accept your apology. I know you did not mean to deliberately harm anyone. If it is any consolation, you are not the only one who has learnt a lesson and regrets words that were spoken in anger.”
Darcy jerked his head up sharply, his eyes meeting hers. “Did your sister tell you of…what happened? Our quarrel?”
“She did, a little. She has been especially eloquent on her own failures—her prejudices, her hasty conclusions, and her sharp tongue.”
He felt the anxiety within him ease slightly. More to himself than to Miss Bennet, he said softly, “She read the letter. She believed me.”
“Aye, she did, and does.” They heard Bingley exiting the house, speaking briefly to a footman.
“Does Bingley know? Did you tell him?”
Miss Bennet shook her head. “It is not my story to tell.”
“Lord, you look so serious, Darcy. You had better relax until dinner.” Bingley had joined them.
Darcy looked sheepishly at Jane and bowed over her hand. “Good evening, Miss Bennet. And thank you.”
“Lizzy, when will you receive the keys to the dower house?” asked Mrs Bennet, who was humming over her needlework.
“I should like to see the inside. I was there once as a child, when Mr Goulding’s grandmother was in residence.
” She tied off a French knot and mused, “I wonder if the drawing room is still done in red.”
Elizabeth could not repress a smirk. Her mother was as happy as she had seen her in years.
Not only had her future habitation been secured, her eldest daughter was at long last engaged to a wealthy man.
And though she had always appeared to favour Lydia, Elizabeth now wondered if some of that spoiling had been more the appeasement of a remarkably strong-willed child.
Since Lydia had gone to London, Longbourn itself had seemed to sigh in relief.
“I had not thought of that, Mama, with all the work to do on the charity. I am to meet the new steward sometime soon. He has gone to Kent to retrieve his belongings. I will get the keys from Mrs Neeson then.”
Kent, Elizabeth reflected. I wonder where in Kent.