Chapter Two
Bennet wished he knew why his wife insisted that he be present at the Meryton Assembly on Friday.
“You know that Lucas will give you the introductions you seek. For all that you paint our neighbors as self-interested, the fact remains that they are our friends, and would never treat you or our girls in such a shabby fashion.”
There was no persuading Mrs Bennet. She would have her husband on hand the very moment the opportunity to meet the new resident of Netherfield arrived. She would certainly not wait for the charity of Sir William and Lady Lucas.
Mr Bennet accepted his lot and boarded the top of the carriage with the driver, and the family made their way into the village.
The new neighbour that his wife was so excited to meet was bringing a friend with him.
A bookish friend, the young man had claimed when Bennet visited him.
Well…if the number of books in Mr Bingley’s study was any indication of the interests of his bookish friends…
Bennet would probably be disappointed in the fellow, but there was always hope.
Darcy did not have much hope of a peaceful evening when he entered the Meryton Assembly.
When Anne died, he took the opportunity to withdraw from society for six months, and then only re-entered it lightly for another six months after, even though he could have worn an armband and returned to the ballrooms immediately, had he wished.
He did not have to mourn like a female, but going out into society would only enable others to attempt to force him into a match immediately, and so he was pleased to have an excuse to avoid the experience for an entire year.
His year of self-imposed mourning ended two months before, and the instant he re-entered society he had been mobbed with invitations–and, no doubt–intentions to trap him into marriage.
He was grateful that their platonic union had brought Anne the peace and happiness that it did in her two years as his wife, but if he thought women were determined to marry him before, their behaviour was downright alarming now that Rosings Park and Anne’s other properties were added to his already significant holdings.
He had hoped to reach thirty before he considered another wife, but realised lately that if he wanted the power of choice to be his own, he might do better to attend the matter without delay, before some young girl ripped a seam in his presence…
again. Eventually someone’s idiot brother or father would attempt to force a duel, and Darcy had no desire to be involved in such proceedings.
Priscilla had spent a great deal of time with him and Georgiana, as well as Anne, since his wedding, and even more since his wife’s death fourteen months before.
It was as if she sensed, as they all did, that Anne’s time would be short, and she wished to be a part of the bit of Anne’s life that was happy.
The Darcy/Fitzwilliam/de Bourgh cousins had always been close, and the loss of Anne had saddened them all.
Priscilla’s company brought comfort to both siblings, and Darcy was grateful, though he wished she would not rush Georgiana into society.
It was Priscilla who insisted upon Georgiana’s attendance that evening, and Darcy had his misgivings.
“Georgie is nearly sixteen, Will. Even I was informally out in Derbyshire at her age. She has already attended some small dinners at Matlock House where she was too terrified to speak. It is time for her to move in a less formal society, so she may gain her confidence.”
“This is not Derbyshire, Priscilla,” Darcy had growled in the parlour the two young ladies shared at Netherfield that afternoon.
“Precisely. That is why it is perfect. Georgiana is unknown here. Any slight missteps will not be spoken of at her wedding.” Priscilla paused and eyed her cousin sternly. “One would think that you wish for her first public dance to be at her debut. A greater disaster I cannot think of.”
“I will hardly have her stand up with a clerk or a shopkeeper, Priscilla.”
“Of course not, she may stand up with you and Mr Bingley, and I am not too elevated to reel with my young cousin at a country assembly, as sisters and young girls do. We will keep her safe and ensure that she enjoys herself.” Priscilla paused. “Perhaps you could enjoy yourself too.”
“I will do my best, Prissy,” Darcy grumbled as he stood, patted his cousin on the hand, then left the parlor to have a tray in his room and prepare for the assembly.
Elizabeth Bennet was surprised that the Netherfield party did not arrive all at once.
Mr Bingley came first with his friend Mr Darcy, who only bowed in acknowledgement of their introduction, but did not speak.
With them were Mr Darcy’s cousin, Lady Priscilla, and his younger sister Miss Darcy, who was attended by her companion, Mrs Annesley.
Mr Bingley’s sisters arrived quite late, and might as well not have come at all.
Mr Hurst headed directly to the card room, so he might possibly have been acceptable to the local men, but Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley were intolerably bored and rude.
Miss Bingley’s eyes followed Mr Darcy all night, Elizabeth noted, but none of the local men asked her to dance once they saw her being avoided by the men in her own party.
Elizabeth might have made an instant decision to put the entire group out of her mind entirely if her sister Jane had not immediately taken the notice of Mr Bingley, and if Lady Priscilla and Miss Darcy were not utterly delightful.
“Some of our new neighbours find themselves above their company, I believe.” Elizabeth approached Charlotte Lucas. “How disappointing, though perhaps one or two of them might be friendly enough. Time will tell.”
“That is because some of them are above their company, Eliza,” Charlotte chided. “Lady Priscilla is the daughter of an earl, and Miss Darcy is the niece of one and granddaughter of another.”
“And yet the pair of ladies in question appear to be the friendliest and most obliging of their party.” Elizabeth observed ironically.
“Mr Darcy certainly has cause to think well of himself. He owns half of Derbyshire, or so I have heard.”
“The disapproving half?” Elizabeth quipped before a voice piped up from behind her.
“The melancholic half, actually.” Lady Priscilla entered their conversation with a wry smile and no apology for eavesdropping. “And the dismal half of Kent as well, do not forget that.”
“How interesting.” Elizabeth smiled quizzically at Charlotte and then at the new young lady and her even younger cousin. “Did they become melancholic and dismal when he obtained them? Or have they rubbed off upon him?”
“The answer is complicated to say the least,” Lady Priscilla returned.
“All the most interesting gentlemen are.” Elizabeth peered across the room at Mr Darcy. “Your cousin appears to be fascinating in terms of character study. I shall not be bored whilst you all visit Meryton.”
She eyed Georgiana. “How do you occupy your time in Derbyshire since you left your school room, Miss Darcy? My aunt lived there for many years in her youth. Do you prefer indoor activities such as music and embroidery, or are you an explorer of the peaks?”
“A bit of both, perhaps, but I cannot pretend not to be quite passionate about the pianoforte. I also enjoy getting out to sketch and enjoy nature. I walk almost every day, and I ride out with my brother often,” Miss Darcy answered timidly as her cousin smiled at her encouragingly.
“I never took to riding. My own feet serve me well enough. I go out nearly every day as well,” Elizabeth confessed.
“ Though I have never practiced as I ought, I enjoy the pianoforte. I can play well enough for myself, and our friends here in Meryton, but I admit I am no great performer. I fear I have too many interests to be a true proficient at anything.”
“Eliza, you are too modest,” Charlotte chided, then assured their new acquaintances, “Perhaps her technique is not always perfect, but her playing is light and pleasing.”
“Do you play duets, Miss Elizabeth?” Miss Darcy asked eagerly.
“Only when forced.” Elizabeth was cheerful in her response. She pointed out her next younger sibling. “My sister Mary lives for the instrument, and I believe she might be more easily persuaded.”
She observed Mr Darcy approach her father just as Mr Bingley led Jane to the floor for a dance.
“Mr Thomas Bennet, I believe, of Longbourn, is how you were introduced, sir?” Darcy inquired of Mr Bennet.
“Indeed, Mr Darcy,” Bennet answered briefly. The young man appeared serious enough, though Bennet still had his doubts about the young man being suitably bookish.
“I come bearing a letter from a Mr William Collins. I believe he is your cousin, and possibly the heir presumptive to your estate.”
Darcy wondered what kind of man Mr Bennet was. Collins only knew that his own father, who was woefully uneducated and cruel, had loathed his second cousin. “He has asked me to deliver it into your hands, and so I have done, sir.”
“I am certain this will be amusing.” Mr Bennet pocketed the missive. “How do you know my cousin, Mr Darcy?”
“Mr Collins holds the three livings in my gift.” Mr Darcy answered without any further elaboration.
“Really? Three livings at–what age is that boy now–twenty-eight? Twenty-nine? Perhaps he will be less entertaining than I hoped.” Mr Bennet shook his head in disappointment. “Well, Mr Darcy, your friend Mr Bingley claims you are exceedingly well read. What say you of books?”
A pleasant half hour passed where the two men spoke of university, the Greeks, and several scholarly texts.
Mr Bennet was ready to admit that Mr Bingley’s bookish friend might make tolerable company when Bingley and Jane joined them after a set, followed immediately by Mrs Bennet, Elizabeth, Mr Darcy’s relations, and Miss Bingley, who was hoping for an invitation to dance from Mr Darcy.
“Mr Bingley, I know it sounds quite forward of me, but you must understand, the local wives do their best to keep an eye on Netherfield without any master or mistress in residence, and servants talk, as they always do,” Mrs Bennet addressed their new neighbour.
“I learned from my housekeeper yesterday that your party arrived without any time to plan your Michaelmas feast or activities. We are more than happy to host your family after church this Sunday. The geese have been fattening for months. Do join us with your family and guests. We would be honoured to welcome you to Longbourn for the feast day. At least three courses.”
“Darcy, I ought to have planned something for the tenants, shouldn’t I?” Mr Bingley put a hand to his forehead in alarm.
“I fear you are correct, and I ought to have reminded you.” Darcy bowed his head to his friend. “Perhaps there is still time to find some barrels of ale and cider–”
“Already managed, Mr Darcy,” Mr Bennet interrupted.
“The owner of Netherfield Park, Sir Arthur Penrose, never makes such arrangements. The other local landowners all do something for Netherfield’s tenants.
Longbourn and Haye Park sent several fattened geese and a pig.
Lucas provided barrels of ale, and someone else sent a cask or two of cider.
I’m certain the children of Netherfield have picked the last of the blackberry bushes bare, and the tenants will provide their own pies and frivolity, though an acknowledgement from Mr Bingley would not go amiss. ”
“Why would you mind the business of other estates?” Miss Bingley asked imperiously. “Why not manage your own?”
“Because they are generous and decent gentlefolk. Why else?” Darcy snapped at his hostess.
It was difficult not to be rude to Miss Bingley, and it had been years since he had any patience for her.
The lady had behaved in a proprietary manner over him since long before he married.
Then during his marriage, she pretended when she was near as if his wife did not exist, and behaved as if the two of them shared some understanding of a long engagement.
Priscilla and Georgiana had accompanied him to Meryton, at their insistence and his uncle’s, all worried that Miss Bingley might attempt to trap him if he stayed there with no other feminine or familial protection.
“The tenants of Netherfield are good people. We could hardly neglect them. Why, Meryton’s most trusted midwife is a tenant of Netherfield! The local estates would not see their neighbours suffer,” Elizabeth said pointedly.
“Or perhaps, knowing a rich bachelor was taking Netherfield, the neighbours all took the liberty of showing off their goodness,” Miss Bingley drawled. “I assure you madam, we will manage quite well on Sunday. I do not consider myself incapable of obtaining goose and blackberry pie.”
“Nonsense, Caroline, Mrs Bennet’s offer is a thoughtful and welcoming one. You may stay home if you choose, but I accept for myself and my house, Mrs Bennet. Thank you very much for your kind invitation.” Mr Bingley glared at his sister.
“Mr Bingley, though my father collects the rents himself, my sisters and I will visit the tenants of Longbourn and Netherfield tomorrow. It is easily done, all the tenants will be busy in the cottage villages, preparing for Sunday’s feast day,” Elizabeth informed him “You are welcome to join our wagons. We will deliver some baskets, and assist the wives for a short time. The Lucases visit Netherfield on Lady Day, and the Gouldings on Midsummer Day, but we always enjoy visiting the tenants there at Michaelmas.”
“That sounds marvelous, does it not, Darcy?” Bingley exclaimed.
“It does. Georgiana and I do such things at home for quarter days, it is important for the family in residence to be involved when they are at home. If Bingley goes, Georgiana and I will be pleased to join you,” Darcy agreed.
Bingley accepted with alacrity, then turned to Elizabeth and asked her for a dance as the next set began and another man approached Jane for a promised set.