Chapter 16
Elizabeth
The next day’s early morning meeting with Darcy was short, though sweet, because the men at Netherfield were hosting a shooting party for the neighbours. Elizabeth and Jane had promised Georgiana to arrive a few minutes before eleven so that they could help with the picnic luncheon.
As soon as the sisters reached Netherfield, Elizabeth saw that Mr Williams and his sister had arrived at the same time. Still outside, having climbed down from their carriages, Elizabeth introduced Mr Williams to Jane, and in turn he introduced Miss Williams to them both.
Once Mr and Miss Williams were attended by both Mrs Hurst and Mrs Nicholls, Elizabeth and Jane made their excuse to join Georgiana at the back door, where the final touches were being made to the luncheon packed in four large hampers.
They supervised while the hampers were carted to a shady spot of the parkland, unpacked, and spread out on tables.
Chairs and blankets were positioned to give guests choices of seating.
Just as Elizabeth gave the set-up her approval, Georgiana called, “Here come the sportsmen!”
Elizabeth responded, “While Mr and Miss Williams are here, I shall call your brother Darcy, just so there is no confusion.”
Georgiana smiled and said, “Hmm, should I call him Fitzwilliam, or Will?”
“Hmm…four syllables or one? I think the sensible choice is obvious.”
“Your name has four syllables, Elizabeth. Or should I call you Liz?”
Elizabeth laughed and gave Georgiana a fond hug. “I give you leave to call me anything other than Eliza. I am not fond of that name, any more than your brother is fond of being called Fitz.
When Darcy arrived, he was surprised when his two favourite ladies greeted him in unfamiliar ways. “Hello, Darcy,” Elizabeth said.
“Hello, Will,” Georgiana chirruped.
“What happened to William?” he asked as he kissed Georgiana on the cheek and gave a chaste peck on Elizabeth’s lips.
“Mr and Miss Williams have arrived,” Elizabeth responded. “As a matter of fact, I see them approaching right now. We thought it would be easier to call you something other than William, temporarily.”
Darcy looked to where she pointed, and he hurried to his friend.
“Williams, welcome!” he said, shaking his friend’s hand.
Then he turned with a bow to the lady. “Miss Williams, I am happy to see you.” Elizabeth let him know that all the introductions had been earlier accomplished, and Mr Williams asked about Richard’s injury and recovery.
When Mr Hurst finally trudged over to the picnic area, he fetched himself an ale before making his way to the newly arrived guests. Darcy made more introductions, and Mr Hurst responded in his friendly way, letting the Williams siblings know that Mr Bingley had left for important business in town.
“Your wife already explained that, and relayed to us his regrets,” Mr Williams responded.
The picnic was a success. Not only was the food highly praised and consumed in its entirety, but the conversation was easy and interesting.
Jane spent most of the meal with the Viscount at her side, and although he was not overt in his partiality for her, as Mr Bingley had been—or at least had seemed to be—Wessex did seem to be enjoying her company.
Elizabeth and Darcy sat with the Williams siblings.
Early on during the luncheon, the entire group startled at the loud sound of a single shot.
Miss Williams said—with not a trace of a smile on her face—“And that, ladies and gentleman, is the sound of a sportsman who insists on having the last word.”
Elizabeth laughed and suggested, “Or perhaps the last bird?”
Most of the men laughed along with the two ladies, and when the younger Goulding finally left the forest and walked towards the picnic, he looked confused to be met with wide grins and chuckles.
When Mr Goulding, senior, bragged of having bagged six brace of pheasants, Miss Williams said, “I am heartily ashamed of having partaken of only one brace of pigeons, myself. Perhaps I might compete in some other way; I must be as capable as any hound in flushing out birds for others to shoot!”
Elizabeth chuckled and responded, “I am not so sure. I have seen pointers running through bushes to startle the birds into the sky, and the bulk of their bodies pushing through the underbrush is quite powerful, particularly as they scamper below low-lying tree branches. Picturing your elegant silhouette among the bushes and branches…. I am convinced you would not equal their success.”
Again, laughter rippled among the diners, growing when Miss Williams said, “I hope you all understand that elegant silhouette is code for Maypole-like stature.”
“Maypoles are of course lovely, but there the comparison ends,” Darcy murmured.
Mr Williams said, “I believe that Miss Elizabeth’s description is quite apt.”
Miss Williams laughed softly and said, “Keep them coming, gentlemen. I cannot have compared myself to a hound one moment and a Maypole the next without betraying a serious need for compliments.”
A young man named Mr Easton, a guest of the Lucas family, leant towards her from a nearby blanket and said, “I volunteer to be the complimenter-of-record, Miss Williams.” The two began to chat with lowered voices, and the rest of the diners had to make do without Miss Williams’s wit for the rest of the picnic.
As they walked back to the manor house, Elizabeth spoke softly to Darcy: “Do you think your friend, Viscount Wessex, could be interested in Jane?”
“I believe he might be, but if so, I know that he will take things very slowly and will be thoughtful about the needs of his eventual ascension to the House of Lords and his estate, and he will also be considerate about your sister’s feelings and expectations.”
“And you know him far better than you know Bingley?”
“Years longer, and through observation of his behaviours rather than through letters. Wessex is my age and much more mature than Bingley, and he has proven himself highly principled multiple times.”
Elizabeth felt relief at his words, and she finally said, “I really like Miss Williams, despite the fact that she and her brother have stolen your name from me.”
“Temporarily,” he insisted. “Although I have to admit, I like hearing the name Darcy on your lips, as well. And there are far too many Williams in the neighbourhood. William Goulding, Sir William, William Greaves….”
“Well, William has been the most common name in England, or one of the most common, for decades. Very popular with ladies hoping for a son of whom they can be proud. And you, my love, are not at all common, far too popular with the ladies, and someone of whom any parent would be proud.”
“Too many compliments by half,” Darcy growled. They had just entered the manor house by way of the drawing room doors, and he swiftly pulled Elizabeth into a small back parlour, shut the door, and kissed her soundly.”
“William! I mean, Darcy! Your guests!”
“Remember, the Hursts are the hosts of this house party. And I had to address your praises, did I not?”
Elizabeth wound her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his dark curls. “I think you made your feelings very well known, sir. Thank you for your forthright opinions.”
“Your servant, madam, I hope you know that you can always count on me for forthright-itude.
“I am not certain I should afford you the right to simply make up words that do not already exist!”
“Oh, please, madam. After all, every word has been made up by someone. I am not asking for your leave to craft hundreds of words, as another rather famous William did a couple of centuries ago. No, I do not ask for such latitude as that; however, please allow me to brag of my forthright-itude.
“Very well,” she responded. “If I must, I must.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips and, slipping from his grasp, laughed as she made her way back to the group.