Chapter 11
Wearing Darcy’s tweed hunting jacket and toting his fowling-piece, Charles silently led his friend and brother-in-law down the narrow path. No one spoke until they were well away from the house.
“Dashed early,” Henry groused.
“You needn’t have come along. Darcy and I are well able to bag enough birds to restock the larder.”
“No, I enjoy shooting, just not the ungodly hour. Same with fishing.”
Charles wasn’t surprised by Henry’s complaint; he had always been a lazy fellow. “You may console yourself with a nap after breakfast.”
“How’s the sick lady?”
“According to Henderson, Miss Bennet didn’t ring the bell even once last night,” Darcy said in a hushed voice.
Charles took this as a good sign. “I hope that means she slept well.”
The trio settled themselves down in the thicket with a full view of the field. Charles handed off the gun to Darcy and received his own familiar fowling-piece in return. Within minutes, a pheasant took flight, and Charles aimed and fired.
“Nice shot, Charles,” Henry said as Charles reloaded. Several minutes passed in silence. “We’d have better luck with a dog.”
“An astute observation, no doubt,” Darcy said in a dry tone.
And particularly unhelpful, Charles thought.
Yes, he fully admitted that most country gentleman kept hunting dogs, but when planning this retreat to Netherfield, he hadn’t thought to acquire one.
He had plunged headlong into this adventure relying solely on Caroline to manage everything.
Since she had no knowledge of gentlemanly pursuits, he should have seen to that detail himself.
Obviously, he still had much to learn about being the master of an estate, and he hoped he hadn’t neglected anything else of importance.
“Confound these dratted birds,” Henry said, then threw a handful of pebbles into the brambles. When two birds flew out, Charles and Darcy promptly dispatched them.
An interminable length of time elapsed with no movement overhead, and Charles began to lose interest in the sport.
Like Henry, he was far too impatient. At least with cards or billiards, one could achieve instant results by winning a hand or scoring points.
When shooting, you had to wait for the birds to present themselves, and this morning, they seemed quite content to stay hidden in their nests.
To sit idly in one spot for hours at a time was hardly his idea of amusement.
His mind wandered to the latest complication to his present dilemma, his pressing business matters. “I would hate to put my man of business off again. We should have everything sorted by next week, don’t you think?”
“I should certainly hope so,” Darcy said.
“Seems to me, you haven’t done much sorting so far,” Henry said, then pushed Charles into Darcy, knocking them both over.
“For God’s sake, Henry,” Charles said, perturbed by his brother’s prank. “We can’t do anything right now. The sun is shining, and there’s no wind or rain.”
Henry laughed aloud. “Well, then, I suppose you haven’t really considered everything, have you?”
Charles immediately rounded on Henry in retaliation, and Darcy joined the fray.
“What are you doing?” Henry said backing away, but not in time to avoid Charles’s satisfying punch to the midsection. “Umph. Not me, you fool.”
“I’m merely following your suggestion to explore every possibility.” Charles couldn’t regret serving Henry with his own sauce.
“Are you daft?”
“No more than usual.”
Two pheasants fluttered over their heads, reminding Charles of their errand.
“Did we get up this early to spar or to shoot?” Henry said, brushing the dirt and leaf debris from his jacket.
Brought back to their senses, they returned to their positions and kept their eyes on the skies. Despite their continued failure to find a solution to their pressing dilemma, at least their brief scuffle had brought Charles some momentary relief.
***
Having wasted far too much time on foolishness rather than shooting, Darcy grumbled irritably as he rushed through his ablutions and dressed for the day.
The men had only managed to bag four braces of birds, and worse yet, the solution to their most pressing problem continued to elude them.
Adding to his frustration, he had missed seeing Elizabeth at breakfast.
After breaking his fast, he met with Mrs Nicholls, who had insisted on advising him of her latest purchases from the village.
Since he had advised Charles to establish this weekly meeting at Netherfield, he listened attentively to her report, which included the good news of Miss Bennet’s improved appetite.
Impressed by the housekeeper’s attention to detail, he offered his hearty approval and hurried off to join his housemates.
However, they were nowhere to be found. Upon learning that the party had gone out walking to take advantage of the warm weather, he set out in search of them but encountered only Elizabeth dressed in her brown pelisse and bonnet.
“Are you alone, Miss Elizabeth?” he inquired, then cursed himself for asking such a stupid question.
Since no one else was in sight, she was quite obviously alone.
“Your sisters are walking on another path with Mr Darcy.”
Darcy couldn’t imagine why she’d been excluded from the walking party, nor could he regret having her all to himself. “May I walk with you?”
“Certainly,” she said as he fell into step beside her. “It’s a glorious day, and the trees are at the peak of their splendour.”
“Indeed, my favourite time of year,” he said, pleased by her relaxed demeanour. She appeared perfectly at home in this setting with her skirts brushing over the lawn.
He couldn’t help feeling a bit overdressed in Charles’s tailored coat with silver buttons and double-breasted waistcoat, with fobs and seals dangling from his waist. He could only suppose that Charles owned no attire normally worn in the country, nor had Darcy thought to bring any of his own from Derbyshire.
“I’ve had a good report from Mrs Nicholls. You must be relieved that Miss Bennet fares better today,” he said.
She offered a radiant smile. “Indeed, and if she’s feeling up to it this evening, she might join us after supper.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” he said, knowing this was exactly what Charles hoped for.
This, of course, meant that Elizabeth and her sister would be returning home soon.
Although he couldn’t speak freely with her until he resumed his true form, he would enjoy these fleeting moments with her. “What do you think of Netherfield?”
“The house is splendid and the grounds are lovely with many paths to explore.”
This brought to mind a previous conversation. “You mentioned that you prefer walking to riding.”
As she strode onward, her bonnet ribbons fluttered in the gentle breeze. “It’s excellent exercise and the best way to start the day. Besides, horses are such nonsensical creatures, forever needing coddling and reassurance that you don’t mean to murder them,” she said with twinkling eyes.
He laughed at this observation. “Yes, they are easily frightened.”
“I was kicked once and have avoided them ever since.”
“Not by Ginger, I would imagine,” he said, recalling her sister’s docile mare.
“No, but she’s so old, she probably wouldn’t put herself to the trouble.”
Darcy hoped that one day she would grace him with that same teasing smile. Only then would he be assured that she had truly forgiven him.
“Did my friend finally make proper amends for his blunder at the assembly?” he inquired, hoping to determine her true opinion on the matter.
“Oh dear,” she said, frowning. “I shouldn’t have mentioned anything about it. He must think me quite vain for taking offence over such a trifling matter.”
“Not at all, in fact, he regrets speaking out of turn. I believe he’s quite taken with you,” he said, throwing all caution to the wind.
She slowed her steps and stared in disbelief. “Mr Darcy? No, I doubt he’s anything of the sort.”
“I’ve never seen him converse so easily with any woman.”
A rosy glow suffused her face, and she averted her gaze to the skies. “Well, we’re trapped in the same house together, so I’m rather impossible to avoid,” she said in a playful tone.
“I don’t blame you for being sceptical, Miss Elizabeth, but I am certain I’m right about this. Other ladies usually clamour for his attention, but your relaxed demeanour puts him at ease.” He certainly had never craved any other lady’s company as he did hers.
She stopped to face him, tilting her head as though studying him. “You are an excellent friend, Mr Bingley,” she finally said.
Darcy bowed to acknowledge her compliment – to another man. He knew perfectly well she held a favourable opinion of Charles, as did the world at large, but as they turned to retrace their steps, he was even more determined to win her regard.
***
Charles gritted his teeth as he poured the wine.
After enduring another supper hour with Caroline asking all manner of useless questions, he was close to the breaking point.
Having lost both parents at a young age, he was well acquainted with adversity.
Their passings had seemed insurmountable, but time had eventually made those losses less unbearable.
But time wouldn’t fix this problem. In fact, three days had already passed. Since that terrible stormy night, the skies had been inordinately fair.
“How are you holding up, Charles?” Darcy inquired.
Charles squeezed his eyes shut at the absurdity of hearing that question uttered in his own voice. “Three days.” He was losing hope that they would ever find a solution.
“Have a drink and you’ll feel better.” Henry raised his glass and drank down half the contents.
Ignoring his brother’s advice, Charles merely sipped his wine. “I prefer to keep a clear head. Otherwise, I’m likely to slip and say something I ought not when we join the ladies.”
“At least Darcy enjoyed his supper companion,” Henry said.
Darcy nodded glumly at this.