Chapter Eight
“Miss Elizabeth!”
“Mr Darcy.”
He bowed, and she curtsied. Considering the intimacy of the confidences they had shared the night before, Elizabeth found it odd that she could not look him in the eye. Or perhaps it was the presence of her mother and aunt, both watching her and sporting identical smirks, that inhibited her so.
“Mr Hutton,” she said, “how pleasant to see you again.”
“And yourself, Miss Elizabeth.”
They exchanged pleasantries, and then, surprisingly, Mary suggested they take a turn about the garden, since the morning was dry, if not warm.
Perhaps she too was feeling the impact of those smug grins, Elizabeth thought.
She agreed with alacrity, as did the gentlemen, and soon the four young people were walking Longbourn’s paths.
“I find this scene curiously familiar,” Mr Darcy remarked after a few minutes, as they followed Mr Hutton and Mary, who were deep in conversation.
“How so, sir? This is your first visit to Longbourn.”
“Yes, but once again, I seem to be acting as chaperone for one of your sisters and one of my friends,” he said dryly.
Elizabeth could not help but giggle behind her hand at that. And then she stopped, and looked at him seriously. “Mary is very shy, and even more ignorant of the ways of the world than most girls her age,” she said hesitantly. “Is Mr Hutton – is he genuine in his interest?”
“John has been looking this age for a girl who would not mind his stammer,” Darcy said honestly. “He is very wealthy, actually, though he prefers it not to be known. He has been deceived rather too many times into thinking friendships and regard were given to himself, rather than his money.”
“Mary does not care about money, and she certainly would not mind his stammer,” Elizabeth said with certainty. “If he likes her, then no doubt they should do well together. How lovely, if I should see two of my sisters happily wed!”
“Do you not wish for such a situation for yourself?” His voice was deep and soft, and somehow Elizabeth could not quite look at him.
“I am determined to marry only a man whom I can esteem and with whom I share a true affection,” she said, forcing out a light little laugh, “and since I am such an impertinent, barely tolerable creature, I am convinced there is no sensible, respectable man who might love me. So, I am resigned to being a spinster aunt and teaching all of my sisters’ many children to draw and play the piano very ill! ”
“That would be a tragic waste.” Mr Darcy drew her to a halt, and she chanced a glance up at him.
He was gazing at her from unfathomably dark eyes, and she pulled her eyes away and looked at her feet.
“Eliz – Miss Elizabeth, you are no doubt the most impertinent lady I have ever met, but I have already made it very clear to you that you are far more than merely tolerable. I do not know if you could ever feel such affection and esteem as you describe towards me, but you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
Elizabeth did not know what to say, and after a moment she began to walk again.
It was several long minutes before she could speak.
“Mr Darcy – this time yesterday, I despised you more than almost any other person I had ever met. In the space of one day, my feelings have undergone so material a change, I regret to inform you that I have not the slightest idea of what they currently are.”
He laughed at that, and assured her that she should take all the time she needed to begin sketching his character anew.
“But are you not leaving shortly, Mr Darcy? My mother understood that you intended to stay in the country no later than the first of December.”
“That was my original intention.” He glanced down at her, and pressed her fingers lightly where they rested on his arm.
“I have changed my plans. My sister Georgiana, and my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, are to join us at Netherfield before Christmas. I have charged Bingley to deliver the invitations to them while he is in London. Bingley confided that he hopes to marry Miss Bennet before the turn of the year, so we shall all be here for the wedding. It is now my hope that, in that time, and with an opportunity to meet the best of my family, you shall come to think better of me.”
Elizabeth was about to assure him that she already thought very much better of him, when something occurred to her. “But Mr Darcy – Georgiana cannot come to Netherfield! Mr Wickham is in the neighbourhood…” She kept her voice low so that the others could not possibly hear her.
“He will be long gone before she arrives,” Mr Darcy said grimly, “I had a few words with Colonel Forster, and with his second in command Carter, last night, and I stopped by to see them this morning before coming here. A few queries among his fellow officers have revealed he already owes more than two years’ worth of his salary in gaming debts, and one of them has accused him of cheating at cards.
His letters of reference are being investigated, and I have no doubt that at least one of them is false.
It is purported to be signed by my cousin the Colonel,” he replied to Elizabeth’s inquiring glance, “and as Richard would rather run Wickham through with a sword than wield a pen for him, my cousin’s arrival will signify a very significant change in Mr Wickham’s fortunes.
For my dear father’s sake, I have offered Mr Wickham a choice.
He can accept military justice for his falsified reference, and then be sent to debtor’s prison once that is dealt with; or he can accept one hundred pounds and a one-way ticket to the Americas, and I will settle his debts here. ”
“Did he accept your offer? It is surely more than he deserves, considering what he has done!”
“I have to admit I am not sure,” Mr Darcy said serenely, “he was too busy picking his teeth up off the floor after he insulted my sister’s honour.
A few days in gaol to think about it until my cousin arrives will see him arrive at the right decision, I am certain.
” He flexed his right hand with a satisfied smile.
For a moment Elizabeth stared at him speechless, and then she began to laugh.
The merry chimes of her laughter floated on the still, cold air, and in front of them Mr Hutton and Mary turned to look back.
Mr Hutton grinned at his friend, and then tugged lightly on Mary’s arm, drawing her forward once again.
As they walked around the side of the house, Elizabeth saw Mr Collins’ chaise pulling away, the man himself sitting rigidly inside, his face turned firmly away from Longbourn.
“Good riddance!” she muttered. Mr Darcy heard her, saw the direction of her glance, and smiled in agreement.
They returned to the parlour after a half-hour, slightly chilled, and were pleased to find the fire well built-up and hot tea waiting, with some delicious cakes.
The two gentlemen partook eagerly. Elizabeth could not imagine what her aunt might have said to her mother, but Mrs Bennet was everything gracious and charming to both their guests, and while she was quite insistent that they come to dinner the following night, she did not embarrass either of her daughters in the least. Both Mr Darcy and Mr Hutton were happy to accept the invitation, and Mr Hutton stated that he was finding Netherfield so pleasant and the Hertfordshire society so welcoming and congenial that he was resolved to stay a good deal longer than the week he had originally planned.
“I was going to g-go back to Yorkshire for Christmas,” he said, “but in truth there is n-no requirement for me to be there. I should much rather stay here with my f-friends old and new.” He smiled happily at Mary, who blushed and looked down at her hands, a pleased little smile curving her lips.
“Bingley and I are always delighted to have you with us,” Darcy said, clapping his friend on the shoulder, “and I know he has already invited you to stay as long as you please. The local society will certainly welcome your presence, will they not, Mrs Bennet?”
“Any friend of Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy is very welcome in this house, of course,” Mrs Bennet said, “and no doubt in every house in the county.”
It was a long time since Elizabeth had felt proud of her mother, and not embarrassed by her.
But in that moment, she was very impressed by Mrs Bennet’s gracious charm as a hostess, and thought that she still had a few things to learn herself, watching her mother expertly prepare fresh tea for their guests and press them to try a slice of Cook’s fruit cake.
Of course, once the gentlemen had departed, with promises to return the following day to dine, Mrs Bennet could not restrain her enthusiasm, but no-one begrudged her excitement.
It was Jane who innocently set the cat among the pigeons later that afternoon, when they all sat industriously stitching near the fire.
Mrs Gardiner was gently teasing Mary about Mr Hutton’s attentions, and Jane looked up curiously.
“Really, Mary? Well, you shall be very grand.”
“What do you mean, Jane?” Elizabeth asked.
“Why, Mr Bingley told me that Mr Hutton has a very nice estate called Hutton Bonville in North Yorkshire, which brings in a clear three thousand a year, but that is the least of his prospects, for Mr Hutton is the only heir of his great-uncle, the Earl of Bonham.”
Mrs Bennet screeched and nigh on swooned, and Mary’s eyes rolled back in her head. Smelling-salts were required for both of them, and the rest of the evening was spent in calming one’s effusions and the other’s panic.
“I cannot imagine why Mr Darcy should introduce a friend as wealthy and important as Mr Hutton to our family, Jane,” Elizabeth said as they readied for bed. “And to Mary, of all people!”
“Perhaps he felt that they would suit,” Jane shrugged.
“Mr Hutton does seem terribly shy, with that stammer, and not at all self-important. I thought him very pleasant, though rather serious, and of quite a similar turn of mind to Mary, actually.” She turned to face Elizabeth, one eyebrow lifted in an expression Elizabeth knew she herself often wore, but rarely saw on Jane.
“Can you not imagine why Mr Darcy should want to help our family improve its connections, Lizzy? Can you really not?”
Elizabeth said no more, only blew out the candle and buried her hot cheeks in the pillows, too confused to know what to think.
Mr Darcy and Mr Hutton indeed came the following day, quite early for a dinner appointment, but Elizabeth and Mary were pleased to walk with them again.
Jane and Kitty came down at dinner-time and sat at table with them, but Lydia was nowhere to be seen.
Elizabeth glanced at her mother curiously, but Mrs Bennet only shook her head and afterwards murmured to Elizabeth that she felt it best that Lydia should be confined abovestairs until she showed genuine remorse and a willingness to truly apologise for her actions.
Elizabeth could only look at her aunt in grateful astonishment.
How Mrs Gardiner had persuaded Mrs Bennet to finally take a firm hand with Lydia, she could not imagine.
She could not know that it was her own remonstrances with her mother that had made Mrs Bennet take a long look at her youngest daughter and realise that Lydia was behaving in the most spoiled, childish manner imaginable, and that the last thing such behaviour warranted was further opportunity to expose herself in society.
As such, Mrs Bennet had declared Lydia should no longer be out until she had shown her family that she was capable of acting in a mature and responsible matter.
Lydia sobbed, pleaded, and finally screamed her way into hysterics, but her mother was not to be moved.
She sat placidly on Lydia’s bed, and when Lydia finally stopped to draw in breath, said “Well, that was a display worthy of a five-year-old. When you are able to behave as though you are fifteen instead of five, perhaps I will consider you worthy of my attention. Until then, I am afraid it is off to the nursery with you.”
To Lydia’s utter humiliation, her mother had indeed made her go to the nursery, and sent her up coddled eggs, bread and a glass of milk for her dinner!
She would have stormed downstairs to make a scene, except that Mrs Bennet had installed their housekeeper Mrs Hill by the door with a switch, with strict instructions to use it on Lydia’s bottom if she should dare misbehave.
Lydia had never been switched in her life, but she had heard that it hurt an awful lot, and the martial glint in Mrs Hill’s eyes convinced her to mind her manners for fear the housekeeper would find an excuse to teach her a lesson.
Mrs Hill had borne a good deal from Lydia over the years, and she was just itching for Lydia to offer her a reason to give the spoilt little madam what she had coming. She was quite surprised when Lydia sat down, ate her dinner meekly, and asked what she should do when she had finished.
Mrs Hill debated telling Lydia that she must come down to the kitchen and wash the dishes, but decided that might be a step too far without first seeking permission from Mrs Bennet. Instead she pointed to the bookshelf.
“I know well enough that you paid little enough attention to lessons in the years you spent in the schoolroom, Miss. No doubt you can find something there to educate yourself, and learn better what your parents expect of you.”
Lydia wanted to make a smart retort, but Mrs Hill tapped the switch against the doorframe meaningfully, and instead she went quietly to the bookshelf.
Everything in it was boring; not a fashion magazine in sight.
In the end she grabbed the thinnest book – one on basic household management – and flounced back to her seat.
Mrs Hill muttered something about Lydia maybe learning something useful for once, but Lydia studiously ignored her. Instead she opened the book and gazed at the pages while her eyes filled slowly with tears.