Chapter 10 Picnics and Progress
PICNICS AND PROGRESS
The group at Ashworth made a merry party as they proceeded to the riverbank.
Servants had already set out tables and blankets, such that when the group arrived, they were able to immediately enjoy a light repast. Afterwards, Elizabeth was surprised when Sir James invited her to walk along the river’s edge with him.
The pair set off on a narrow dirt path, chatting amiably of inconsequential matters, such as the weather and the condition of the roads between Ashworth and Longbourn.
Elizabeth was pleased with the ease and amicable nature of Sir James’s discourse.
To the contrary of what she might have expected based on his fortune and position, she found him unaffected and sincere.
“Sir, tell me of your home. It is in Nottinghamshire, is it not?”
“Hadleigh Hall,” he said. “An ancient, draughty place. I would not mind razing it completely to the ground and beginning anew.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Shocking speech! Your ancestors are quite scandalised, I am sure of it.”
He grinned. “They have only themselves to blame for erecting such a monstrosity.”
“When do you intend to return home?”
“I am called to return shortly, alas. My excellent steward who has been with us for above three decades has taken ill of late. Given his age, it is particularly alarming—he has even, himself, gone so far as to speak of a replacement.”
“What will become of him?” she asked with feeling.
“Pray do not worry on his account. Dunbar will always have a home at Hadleigh—we do not set aside our dear people who have devoted their lives to us, to be sure. He will remain in his cottage with every earthly provision, for as long as he wishes it.”
“That is very good of you, sir,” Elizabeth said, but Sir James only shook his head and turned his attention to guiding her around a large hole in the ground that might have caused a stumble.
She wondered, idly, what Mr Darcy would do in such a circumstance.
His father had evidently liked his steward well enough to provide his son with a gentleman’s education.
Although that generosity had surely not been repaid in good faith, something told her that servants at Pemberley were taken care of.
Indeed, now that she recalled it, she believed her aunt Gardiner has said something of the like, that the family was known for their noble generosity and—
What on earth am I doing thinking of Mr Darcy? Who cares what he does or would do? Certainly, I do not!
Since learning the truth of Mr Wickham—and subsequently being forced to revise her notion of Mr Darcy as a black-hearted villain—strange intrusive thoughts of the man had forced themselves into her mind at times, pondering the conversations they had had, or wondering if her sketch of his character had been faithful or marred by too much prejudice.
Then she would remind herself of his role in Jane’s heartbreak to bestir her old vexation with him…and then that, too, would leave her. She could not deny that whatever part Mr Darcy had played, it was Mr Bingley who stayed away.
Guiltily, Elizabeth returned her attentions to her companion who was speaking of problems with coal transport and canals within his region.
Though she knew little on the subject, something someone else had mentioned recollected itself to her, and she replied with it.
He beamed and pronounced it a brilliant observation, and they continued to walk on.
Who was it that told me that? Elizabeth pondered a moment and then remembered—it had been Mr Darcy, during one of their walks at Rosings.
Well, one could not deny Mr Darcy’s cleverness or the fact that he was diligent and informed on the matters that affected his people.
For someone so young, she concluded, he certainly was an excellent—
Merciful heavens! Stop thinking of Mr Darcy!
Elizabeth knew not what was wrong with her that he should appear in her thoughts at the least opportune moments.
In truth, there was no opportune moment to think of a man with whom she had no true connexion and she would likely never see again.
She supposed she had Lydia to thank; she read the scandal sheets from London with alacrity and had said just the day before that Mr Darcy appeared to seek a wife, if the reports were to be believed.
Whether he does or does not want a wife is nothing to me.
Elizabeth determinedly turned her mind back to present company as they ended their walk back at the picnic site, where Jane, Miss King, Mr Goddard, and his mother all sat in lively conversation.
Elizabeth was pleased to see Jane making more of an effort and examined the scene carefully, looking for interest on Mr Goddard’s part.
She and Sir James were greeted heartily and readily joined in the merriment. The rest of the day was spent in conversation, eating, and a few games, and as the day waned, Elizabeth thought it had been some time since she had felt so contented and at ease.
“Whose carriage is that?” Kitty exclaimed delightedly from her spot in the window seat several days after the picnic.
Elizabeth shot Jane a quick glance and then went to look.
Although Elizabeth and Jane had managed to evade Mrs Bennet’s notice for some time, it was inevitable that persons as well-mannered as the Goddards should obey custom and return the ladies’ calls.
Elizabeth glanced at Jane again, wordlessly panicking for their mother’s reaction to the news that two eligible and wealthy gentlemen had been a part of their calls to Miss King.
“Mama,” she began hastily, “the Goddards at Ashworth—where Miss King stays—have a son, Mr Robert Goddard, in residence, and he has a friend, Sir James, from Nottinghamshire. No doubt they have come to accompany Miss King, as she is returning our call.”
Mrs Bennet’s eyes flew wide. “Are the gentlemen married?”
“N-no,” Elizabeth said hastily, hearing the sounds of people exiting the carriage.
Mrs Bennet leapt into action, ordering Mary to sit by the fireplace, Jane to remove her fichu, Lydia to seem like she was stitching, and Kitty to stop coughing.
For Elizabeth, she only looked up at her hair and then sighed; nothing could be said, however, for the door opened and Mrs Hill announced their guests.
Sir James came immediately to sit with Elizabeth.
Lydia was quick to welcome Miss King into a little conference with herself and Kitty.
Mrs Bennet, after a quick, appraising eye at Elizabeth and Sir James, urged Mr Goddard and his mother to take the seats beside the sofa where she sat with Jane.
Elizabeth kept one anxious ear on that conversation as she conversed with Sir James.
“Mr Goddard, I daresay you were scarcely out of your skeleton suit the last that I saw you.”
He chuckled agreeably, but it was his mother who said, “The time does pass too quickly, Mrs Bennet. I have one daughter married, and my eldest son is engaged; I shall be a grandmama soon, I am sure.”
“With one son engaged, the other cannot be far behind,” Mrs Bennet proclaimed.
Elizabeth shot a look at her mother but managed to also offer a laugh at something Sir James had said.
Mr Goddard looked unperturbed, but his mother intervened quickly. “All in due time, my dear. We are not in any hurry for our Robert to settle down.”
“I remember well how he and Jane got on when they were but children, and now look at the pair of you! So grown up!”
Happily, Mrs Hill arrived with the tea tray just in time, and Jane interrupted her mother, her face red but her voice betraying no distress. “Would you like tea or coffee, sir?”
Turning her attention away from the mortifying scene, Elizabeth asked Sir James about his preferences in drink.
“I like my coffee so full of milk that there is scarcely any coffee in it.”
“Sugar?”
“No, no,” he said. “I believe sugar takes away the taste of the coffee.”
Elizabeth laughed as she handed him the drink which had the barest hint of coffee within. “We must not take away the taste of the drop of coffee this has in it.”
A glance at her mother revealed that she was occupied with Jane and Mr Goddard, so Elizabeth felt she was free to enjoy her conversation with Sir James who was telling her of being in Portugal with Lord Byron whom he had known since they were boys.
“My father is quite fond of his work,” Elizabeth said. “He was able to get one of the published copies of Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage in March, which was quite the feat, from what I hear.”
Sir James smiled blandly. “Yes, I understand it did very well for him.”
“You likely read it long before it was published…perhaps on your travels? I understand it was the beauty of the Continent that inspired him.”
“Oh, he’s been scribbling about forever,” said Sir James easily. “I confess I have never read a word of any of it.”
“Do you not enjoy reading poetry?”
“I am not a great reader, by any standard. For the most part, I only read that which is required of me.”
Elizabeth returned his smile, and allowed the conversation to turn away, but somehow her mind also drifted, to a chilly autumn day, in the library at Netherfield.
Mr Darcy was a reader; there was no doubt of that.
She wondered which he might say was his favourite book.
Perhaps, like her, he could not choose just one.
She wondered whether the library at Pemberley was truly all that it was reported to be.
At length, a turn in the gardens was proposed and Elizabeth rose to walk beside Sir James, while inside, her mind chastised her. These thoughts of Mr Darcy would continue to plague her. She knew not how to exorcise him from her head. She supposed in time it would naturally go away.
The walk in the garden was very pleasant, and before any could credit it, the time had come for the Ashworth party to depart. Jane and Elizabeth both breathed a deep sigh of relief, knowing that their mother, though behaving a bit coarsely, had most certainly not done her worst.
As the Ashworth party departed, Sir James shocked Elizabeth by bending over her hand, and bestowing a gentle kiss upon it. It was pleasant, but there was little else to it than that.
“You performed admirably today, Jane.” Elizabeth seated herself beside her sister and began to undo her hair for her.
“A performance is precisely what it was,” Jane admitted. “But…you were right. It was much pleasanter than continuing to be so melancholic.”
“I am glad to hear you say so.” Elizabeth paused in the middle of brushing her sister’s hair and gave the back of her head a kiss.
In the mirror, Jane smiled up at her. “I think Sir James is interested in you, Lizzy.”
“Oh, no. He is amiable, I am sure, but in truth, I think Mr Goddard might like you which leaves Sir James to amuse himself with me.”
“Someone ought to warn him off, then. I am surely not prepared to fall in love.”
“He is an eligible match,” Elizabeth said tentatively. “Good income and family, and you would be settled near Longbourn.”
“Lizzy.” Jane’s voice had a hint of warning in it, and she turned in the dressing table chair to meet her sister’s eye.
“I know you think me a fool for still being in love with Mr Bingley, but I am. I am doing my best to be amiable, but I am hardly about to fall in love again—not with Mr Bingley still in my heart.”
“What must we do to oust him? Pesky fellow, to abandon you so many months ago and then have the audacity to cling to your heart.” Elizabeth tried to speak lightly but it failed.
Jane scowled up at her. “You told me yourself that it was his friends who persuaded him to go away and stay away. That is not the same as him abandoning me.”
“Forgive my choice of word, but Jane…” Elizabeth ran a soothing hand over her sister’s arm. “Pray do not consign yourself to spinsterhood for a gentleman who…who is not here. For whatever cause, he has absented himself!”
Jane turned back to her reflection, took up the brush her sister had just laid on the table, and began to brush her hair ferociously. “You are not so far behind me, you know. Perhaps you ought to think of your own prospects more and worry about mine less.”
Elizabeth forced a little laugh. “If I had any to worry about, I would!”
“No? And why do you suppose Sir James gave you such notice today when he left?”
“That? Oh, that was nothing.” Elizabeth moved to sit on her bed. “Sir James is all ease and friendliness, but we have little in common.”
Jane’s hair brushing had slowed, but she kept one eye on her sister in the mirror. “You laugh together a great deal.”
“We do, but I also know that he has a crumbling estate that he needs funds for—a bride who brought nothing of her own to the marriage would never do for him. Perhaps he will like his friend’s cousin?”
“I have never seen him so much as look at Miss King, eligible though the match would be,” Jane said. “Perhaps the money is of no consequence to him.”
“Well…I am not seeking a husband just yet, nor do I imagine him having any serious intentions towards any woman in the country.” Elizabeth shrugged. “I am realistic, Jane, and will not have my head turned by a kiss on the hand.”