Chapter Seven
Opposing Views
Several days passed during which Elizabeth saw nothing of the party from Netherfield, both households being busy with one matter or another.
Mr. Bingley did come by to call upon the Bennets two days after their first visit, but Mrs. Bennet and her daughters were paying their own calls, and only Papa was at home to receive his guest. Mr. Bingley left his card, but it was clear to Elizabeth that Jane regretted missing her caller.
Lizzy observed with the conflicting sensations of relief and disappointment that Mr. Darcy had not accompanied his friend.
The gentleman had been everything polite and gracious upon their last meeting and had apologised very prettily for his actions on the night of the assembly.
Civility dictated that he must forgive him his misspoken words, but she was not quite ready to befriend him.
He did have a charming smile and a subtle sense of humour that suited her exactly, but something seemed amiss.
Or, perhaps, she told herself, it was her wounded pride that demanded she maintain some distance from this handsome and elegant man.
Further, she could gain nothing from the acquaintance, for he would not be long in Meryton by his own reckoning, and she had little with which to tempt him to remain.
She had no wealth, no connections, and no honour, if her beliefs about the goings-on in the tower room were correct.
She wished she had the daring to confront her father about them, or the independence to remove herself from the house, but she was still under Papa’s authority and she felt helpless in this circumstance.
And why should Mr. Darcy make this effort to befriend her?
Perhaps he only wished for a half hour of friendly conversation every now and again, but could his motivations lie elsewhere?
If he was the man in the carriage, could he hope to gain some information from her as to the whereabouts of the Frenchmen?
Regardless, as soon as the truth about these foreigners became known—and she was certain that somehow or another it must with these people seeking them—he would turn Papa in to the authorities and all of Meryton would scorn the surviving members of her family.
She had little reason indeed to encourage his friendship!
Neither had she seen anything more of the man in the tower room. She had crept up the hidden stairs every morning and every evening, whenever she knew she would not be interrupted and found, but the room had seemed empty, at least to her eyes.
The strange device was still there upon the table, but it now had the air of something set aside for the nonce.
Why she felt thus, she was not quite certain.
Perhaps it was because the apparatus had remained in exactly the same place for some days; even the papers and other implements that she could see upon the table had not been moved.
There was no sound of breathing, no indication of any sort that the room was now occupied. The man—or men—must somehow have left.
How had Papa arranged to let them depart so unseen?
Longbourn’s servants were as loyal and discreet as one might find anywhere, but the news of one or more unknown Frenchmen departing the house, even in the darkest hours of night, would be known throughout the village within moments.
Perhaps there were a few short moments before dawn when the servants were all asleep or busy elsewhere, when the strangers might come and go under Papa’s watchful eye, or perhaps they entered and left the house disguised somehow, as tradesmen, perhaps, or in some other aspect.
A further question that troubled her mind was where they went after they had departed Longbourn’s safe walls.
They could not possibly be in the village, for any strangers would be seen and identified at once, and likewise Oakham, the next village on the way to London, would provide no sanctuary for French-speaking strangers.
Neither could they be living rough in the vicinity; not one, but two regiments of the militia were camped in the fields on either side of Meryton, engaging in training both separately and in joint exercises.
The town had certainly been the beneficiary of this happenstance, as Charlotte had been wise enough to mention on the night of the assembly, for two regiments of militia meant a great many young men in need of personal supplies and entertainment in the evening, which left Meryton’s shopkeepers and innkeepers with heavy purses and satisfied smiles.
The notion of two or three French spies finding peace in the fields with so many British soldiers around seemed ludicrous at best.
Furthermore, there had been rumours of a caravan of Gipsies moving into the neighbourhood a few weeks before. The people in the villages had found no trouble from them, most likely due to the presence of the militia, but Lizzy would not wish to be a solitary man out in the woods.
That left very few places for the Frenchmen to go.
One was London, where a man might well hide in plain sight, or—she almost could not fathom it—somewhere on Longbourn’s property!
Was there an old crofter’s hut that had been unused, some hunting cabin in the woods beyond the farms?
She could think of only that one lonely hunting cabin in the woods just at the edge of the view from her window, but was that not too close to the house?
The servants and farmers would surely notice people in there.
Lizzy sighed. It seemed there was much about her father and his estate that she had not before discovered. The thought was chilling.
As the days and weeks passed, there was little to remark upon in the area.
The Bennets often met with the party from Netherfield at a dinner or musicale or evening of cards, and Lizzy was pleased to see Mr. Bingley continue to pay attention to Jane.
Although he had said or done nothing that might cause a sea of matrons’ brows to rise up upon their foreheads, nothing that might damage the young lady’s reputation in the least, the general expectation was that he would, in time, offer for Jane Bennet.
This Lizzy knew well from the hum of gossip that necessarily made its way into every place where women gathered—and likely in those where men took their refuge as well, she reckoned—and the consensus was that it was surprising that Mr. Bingley had not yet even requested a formal courtship.
But such things were often glossed over in the country: a woman knew when she was being courted, even if no formal statement had been made.
The women of Meryton also had no thoughts that Jane did anything other than return Mr. Bingley’s regard.
They had all known her since infancy and understood the quiet and subtle ways in which she showed emotion.
They could see past the sweet and placid face that Jane showed to the world and understood the soft blush and the fluttering eyes and the tilt to the head that suggested that the lovely Miss Bennet’s heart was engaged.
Wherever Mr. Bingley was invited, his guests were almost inevitably included.
Mr. and Mrs. Hurst had remained at Netherfield, despite Mrs. Hurst’s constant complaints about the neighbourhood.
Hurst supposedly had a house on Grosvenor Street, and not for the first time did Lizzy wonder why they did not return there.
‘Twas too unfashionable to remain in London through the summer, she imagined, although the air was turning to autumn, and to hear Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst’s complaints, Meryton society was hardly fashionable enough either.
Whatever it was that kept them from London was more potent than their disapproval of their current circumstances, it seemed.
Most likely it was a paucity of ready funds to pay servants to staff the house.
Whether Miss Bingley would choose to remain as mistress of Netherfield or a guest to her sister was a moot point, for it was her sister who was the constant guest in her brother’s house.
Of the other guest, Mr. Darcy, Lizzy saw a fair amount.
There were times when he had matters to attend to in London, preventing his presence at some event or another, but he seemed to have formed a friendship with Papa, and could often be seen arriving in Bingley’s carriage to spend a morning at cards or discussing matters of common interest to the men.
On these occasions, he always took the time to greet the ladies who were home, and often accepted a cup of tea, and Lizzy grew to anticipate these visits, despite her determination not to like the man.
He was far too interesting and took far too much trouble to be liked to be truly distasteful to her, for all that she still did not quite trust him.
At times they conversed quietly in the parlour; at others they accompanied some assortment of Lizzy’s younger sisters on a walk around Longbourn’s park or to the village where they might meet some of the officers attached to one or other of the regiments quartered nearby.
Mr. Darcy did not repeat his apologies or desire for forgiveness, but his eyes spoke where his lips were silent, and Lizzy felt his earnest desire for a friendship in every visit.
As the weeks passed, so did Mr. Darcy’s injuries heal.
He no longer rubbed at his leg after a tiring walk or after sitting for too long, and he had begun very carefully to use his left arm.
He still took the carriage for his visits to the village or to Longbourn, but on one afternoon he announced his intention to try riding soon.
“Is that wise?” Lizzy felt the words come unbidden. “Should a doctor not examine you to ensure you have the strength?”