Chapter 21
“Well, Bingley wasted no time,” Captain Denny commented.
George Wickham, who was standing at ease on the village green while Colonel Forster drilled the militia’s common soldiers, turned apprehensively toward his friend, “What do you mean?”
“Bingley offered for Miss Bennet this morning and was accepted.”
“No!” cried out Mr. Pratt, who was on the other side of Denny.
“Yes, indeed. Well, it was to be expected, I suppose. Bingley was already paying Miss Bennet a great deal of attention, and now that she is an heiress, he obviously felt it was time to offer, especially after everyone and his brother was swirling around Miss Bennet last night at Lucas Lodge.”
“I suppose there was not much hope for any of us,” Pratt commented dismally.
George Wickham cursed inwardly. He knew of Charles Bingley and his casual approach to life. He had thought the man too relaxed an individual to perceive the dangers of waiting to offer for Miss Bennet. Obviously, he was wrong. However ...
“Is it a certainty that Miss Bennet will inherit?” he asked nonchalantly.
Denny frowned, “That is what Mrs. Bennet says, and presumably she knows. I heard the news from one of the militia’s stable boys, who is interested in one of Mrs. Long’s maids, who heard the news from the lady of Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet is apparently making the rounds of Meryton society, crowing over her daughter’s success. Bingley is worth a clear 4000 pounds a year and is by all accounts a genial man. It is a good match.”
“All this came about after the entail lapsed due to the death of Mr. Collins?” Wickham continued carelessly.
“That is right.”
Wickham nodded and turned his gaze back to the market square, his mind working busily. He had briefly studied law a few years before, and while most of his meager knowledge had faded away, he had retained pertinent facts about entails and inheritances. If the entail was at an end, then Mr. Bennet was not required by law to will the estate to his eldest child. If Wickham could find some way to manipulate Mr. Bennet into bequeathing the estate to another daughter, and marry that daughter, well then, he would eventually find himself the master of a fine, if small, estate.
Miss Elizabeth, the second born, was a most handsome young woman, as well as being lively and intelligent, and would make a fine wife. As an added bonus, Darcy was attracted to the same lady. If Wickham could entice the girl into marriage and convince Bennet to make Elizabeth his heiress, it would be a satisfying act of revenge against the man who had deprived him of his rightful livelihood. On the other hand, tangling with Darcy was a rather risky business. He would need to think more on the matter.
“We are released from duty, Wickham,” Denny commented, shaking his preoccupied friend by the arm.
“My apologies, Denny, I was woolgathering.”
/
“I intend to ride to London the day after tomorrow, Darcy, to arrange for the marriage settlements. You are, of course, welcome to come if you like.”
“How long will you be in London?” Darcy inquired, laying aside his book, one he had borrowed from Longbourn. They were ensconced cozily in the east sitting room, quite alone, as the Hursts had already retired for the night.
“I would say that it will take all of three days to arrange for the documents. I will speak again to Mr. Bennet on the morrow, and we will make the final arrangements, though based on our initial discussion after I offered for Miss Bennet, he will not be difficult to please.”
“He is a fortunate man to have you as his daughter’s suitor. Given his drinking, many a man would take advantage of him.’
Bingley shook his head, “He was quite alert when I spoke to him, and he told me that he is reducing his drinking substantially.”
Darcy’s eyebrows rose, “Is he indeed? That is admirable.”
“It is,” Bingley agreed, his eyes glazing over in what was now a familiar way. Darcy lapsed into silence, aware that his friend’s mind had flitted to a beautiful blonde lady with cerulean eyes.
He gazed into the fire thoughtfully, only to discover some minutes later that he too was imagining a lady, but this one was petite, dark haired and boasted a most vibrant countenance.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet was entirely charming, intelligent, gracious, hardworking and lovely. He was, he acknowledged to himself, far more drawn to her than he had ever been to any other woman. On the other hand, she was but the second daughter of a country gentlemen, and she had ties to trade. She was truly not an appropriate bride for a Darcy of Pemberley, but the more he fought his fascination with her, the more it seemed to grow.
“Bingley?”
“Yes?”
“I do not care to go to London as my ankle would likely not appreciate the jolting. I do have a request for you. Would you permit my sister Georgiana to visit Netherfield?”
“Of course! It would be delightful to have Miss Darcy here!”
“Thank you! I have another request; would you be willing to deliver a letter to my sister, and if she is agreeable, bring her and her companion, Mrs. Annesley, back to Netherfield when you return?”
“With pleasure! I daresay you long to see her.”
“I miss her very much,” Darcy admitted, “and I know from her last letter that she misses me as well. It is closing in on the Christmas season, and she will be laying aside her studies shortly anyway.”
“I am certain Louisa would enjoy another lady in the house,” Bingley said heartily, “and I am quite certain that Miss Darcy will like Jane.”
Darcy inclined his head in response and turned his attention back to the crackling fire. He did ache to see Georgiana, and now that Miss Bingley was gone, he knew his shy sister would enjoy her time at Netherfield. In the past, Caroline Bingley had hovered over Georgiana in an exhausting and irritating way, and thus Darcy had not considered inviting his sister.
Georgiana was his primary responsibility given that their parents had already passed through Heaven’s gates. He knew that his marriage would be important to her, and perhaps with her in the house, he would forget Elizabeth Bennet.
Or perhaps, his traitorous mind suggested, he would conclude that compatibility, intelligence, and kindness were far more important than wealth and connections.
/
Darcy realized that he had been reading without any meaningful comprehension and lifted his head up with a sigh. Bingley had been gone two days and would return either tomorrow or the next day, and Darcy found himself full of a most unaccustomed state of excitement. He was confident that Georgiana would accept Bingley’s invitation and now, with their reunionon the near horizon, Darcy realized how eagerly he desired to see her. Georgiana was the only near family he had left in this world, and it had been too long since the siblings had spent much time together.
A strident feminine voice caught Darcy’s attention, and he glanced at his watch, surprised to see that it was already after eleven o’clock. He knew that Miss Bennet was planning to come over to Netherfield this morning to tour the mansion with Mrs. Hurst, who was obviously enthusiastic about the upcoming marriage between her brother and Miss Bennet.
The library door flung open and Mrs. Hurst entered, her head turned to the side, “This is the library, of course …”
She trailed away as she caught sight of Darcy and colored in embarrassment, “I am so sorry, Mr. Darcy. I did not realize you were here.”
Darcy rose carefully to his feet, his heart in his throat as he observed that Miss Bennet had brought along her next younger sister and mother. “That is quite all right, Mrs. Hurst. Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, it is pleasant to see you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bennet replied gracefully as all three Bennet ladies curtsied.
“It is a library like many other libraries, obviously,” Louisa Hurst declared with a general wave of one arm.
“Well, it is nothing like Father’s library,” Elizabeth riposted with a roguish twinkle in her eye. “There are very few books!”
Darcy chuckled aloud and nodded, “I fear my friend is not a great reader.”
“Neither am I, Mr. Darcy,” Jane Bennet replied with good humor. “It is yet another way that Mr. Bingley and I are well matched.”
Mrs. Bennet, who clearly had been holding her tongue with difficulty, launched into speech, “I always say that the library is the least important room, my dear, when one is mistress to an establishment. The kitchen, for example …”
“Yes, by all means let us tour the kitchen,” Mrs. Hurst agreed, retreating out of the room with Miss Bennet and her mother in her wake.
Elizabeth lingered for a moment, “I am glad to see you are able to stand again, Mr. Darcy. I hope that means your ankle is nearly healed?”
“It is much better, though it aches if I stand too long,” he announced, lowering himself carefully onto the chair. “Mr. Jones is quite certain it was merely sprained, not broken. I find myself able to walk on it a little more each day, and I hope to be able to ride again soon.”
Elizabeth glanced briefly at the library door to assure herself that it was open, and then strolled over to gaze at a nearby bookcase, “I see he has Tamburlaine , which is at least somewhat unusual. My father does not own a copy.”
“That is a lone swan in a flock of geese,” Darcy said with a chuckle. “The library is pitiful for a true scholar, but Bingley has no great interest in books. I am thankful for your father’s willingness to share a few of his own volumes; they have helped wile away many an hour while I coddled my wretched ankle.”
Elizabeth turned to face him, “I seem to remember Miss Bingley extolling the glories of the Pemberley library.”
“Yes, it is magnificent. My grandfather, my father, and I have all worked to add to it through the generations.”
“Do you miss Pemberley, Mr. Darcy?”
“I do. It is the home of my childhood, and while I am enjoying my time here in Hertfordshire with Bingley, I always find myself most at peace at my estate.”
Elizabeth nodded, her lips quirking enticingly, “That is entirely understandable, Mr. Darcy. You are a good landlord and master, and thus Pemberley is not just your home, but also your responsibility and thus a part of who you are as a man.”
He gazed at her and struggled to control his breathing at the sight of her radiance. She was so vigorous and lively, so unlike the sophisticated debutants in London.
“You are entirely correct on that account,” he said, pleased that his tone was calm.
“I am certain Mr. Bingley is most thankful for your willingness to assist him here at Netherfield, especially since he found himself a wife along with an estate.”
Darcy peered at her with interest, “Yes, and please accept my congratulations on the engagement.”
The lady’s cheerful expression bloomed into joyful incandescence, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. We are all so thrilled for Jane; she is such a kind soul, and she loves Mr. Bingley dearly. They will be happy together. I confess I was somewhat concerned to see all those militia officers flocking about Jane last night at Lucas Lodge. She is such a generous person that she believes the best of almost everyone, whereas I am of the view that the officers’ interest was more in her fortune than her person.”
Darcy hoped he successfully hid his surprise at his companion’s words. Miss Bennet loved Bingley? He had seen no more than genial good humor toward his friend, but Miss Elizabeth would know her elder sister’s heart.
“I have no doubt you are correct about the officers,” Darcy agreed. “Based on my admittedly limited interactions with them, I doubt any of them are as good-hearted as my friend.”
“Oh, you are entirely right about that. Jane was not truly attracted to any of them, but Lieutenant Wickham, for example, has a magnetic charm to him which no doubt has captivated many a lady.”
Darcy, who had been watching Miss Elizabeth with fascination, felt as if he had suddenly been doused with ice water.
“Mr. George Wickham?” he demanded in horror, surging to his feet.