Chapter Fifteen
Jane subtly took Charlotte’s hand as her father’s carriage came to a stop on the gravel drive of a modest estate that lay just two miles north of Highbury.
They had not passed through the village, and Mr. Bennet betrayed no signs of comprehending their proximity to the environs of his past. Mrs. Hill, who had insisted upon accompanying them, had certainly not given away a thing.
Mr. Bennet alighted first and helped the three ladies out of the barouche, and as he approached the Hursts’ carriage to assist Miss Bingley, a handsome gentleman in a blue coat hastened down the front steps of the manor.
“Welcome, welcome,” Mr. Bingley cried. He bowed, then hastened to embrace each of his sisters and shake hands warmly with Mr. Hurst. “My dear relations! I hope your journey was easy enough.”
“We have only come from London,” Miss Bingley said, smoothing out her skirts. “Miss Eliza and I did some shopping yesterday after our arrival.”
“Ah, yes, your betrothed and his cohort.” Mr. Bingley turned around and betrayed a moment of surprise before greeting Mr. Bennet with an amiable smile. Her father was still handsome enough for his age, but Jane suspected that Mr. Bingley had not anticipated a man in his forties.
Their host recovered himself and then turned to Jane. “Oh! I say, Miss Fairfax – but no, I just saw you at….”
“I am Elizabeth Bennet,” Jane said swiftly. “This is my dearest friend Charlotte Lucas, and my guardian has invited our housekeeper Mrs. Hill, who has some family not far from here – she will be staying with them.”
Mr. Bingley continued to gape at her. Jane’s hair had faded nearly back to its natural blonde, for within an hour she hoped to be Jane Fairfax again; for the present, Mrs. Hill had a ready explanation. “Miss Bennet has some relations in the area; perhaps there is a family resemblance, sir?”
“Uncanny,” Mr. Bingley murmured. Mr. Bennet frowned and grumbled something Jane could not make out, and then they were all invited into the house.
Mrs. Hill was to continue on to the village to stay with her relations, and she took her leave of the Bennets, giving Jane a tight embrace.
“Best of luck, my dear. Do come and see me if you have the chance.” To Mr. Bennet she said, “I trust you remember where to find me, if I am needed? My cousin’s house in Highbury. ”
His look of agitation intensified. “Yes. We, ah – are we very near Highbury, Mr. Bingley?”
“It is but two miles south of here, sir.” Mr. Bingley cast a curious look at Mr. Bennet’s discomposure and then led them all into the manor. He gave them a tour of the house, which thankfully did not take long. After this, he offered them tea in a finely appointed sunlit parlor.
Jane hesitated, squinting at the bright sunlight.
She had contrived with Charlotte, after telling her the whole truth and begging for her aid, that she would find some reason to withdraw after arriving at Milton Hall.
She caught a glimpse of the clock as she turned to her friend, and decided that this must be the perfect time to declare that she had a sudden headache.
“Another headache?” Mr. Bingley furrowed his brow and then shook his head.
“Oh – right – ‘twas Miss Fairfax who had a headache. Forgive me – I shall call for a maid to show you to your rooms. I suppose the rest of you must wish to refresh yourselves before we take tea. So much the better, anyhow, for I expect my friend Darcy to return presently.”
Miss Bingley sniffed with distaste. “Oh, is Darcy still with you? I cannot think why.”
“I warned you, Caroline,” Mr. Bingley said cheerfully, but his eyes narrowed at his sister.
A maid came to escort Jane to her room, and Charlotte went with her.
Once they reached the door, Jane pulled a gold guinea from her pocket and offered it to the maid as she quietly said, “I believe a walk would do me more good than resting. It may be best, however, if my guardian believes me to be resting. Might you show me the most discreet way to slip out of the house?”
The maid looked down at the coin in astonishment and smiled brightly at Jane. “I’d carry you to the garden on my back for half the sum, Miss.”
“Then I am sure we are to be great friends…?”
“Alice.”
“Thank you, Alice. Charlotte, after you have refreshed yourself, would you tell Father that I have fallen asleep, and will see him at dinner?”
“Just as we agreed,” Charlotte said with a nod. She fidgeted for a moment, then drew Jane into a tight embrace. “I shall miss you,” she whispered.
Alice led Jane down through the servants’ quarters, and out into the back garden. A question hung over her, though she was not bold enough to ask it; Jane supposed that the girl was imagining all sorts of mischief, but surely nothing as outlandish as reality.
Once she was clear of the house, Jane made her way toward the southern edge of the property.
She had visited here as a girl, when last the house was occupied, and she recalled a small lake to the southwest of the manor, surrounded by a dense grove which shielded it from view of the house.
It would make the perfect place to meet with Elizabeth.
***
Darcy stared down at the sunlight dancing on the surface of the lake and let out a deep exhale.
He sauntered slowly to the end of the dock, and was nearly tempted to jump into the tranquil water.
It was certainly a more appealing prospect than returning to Milton Hall and meeting with Caroline Bingley.
Determined to delay his return to the manor, Darcy sat down on the end of the wooden dock, which rose only a foot above the water.
He removed his boots, rolled up his trousers, and indulged in dipping his feet into the cool water.
He doffed his hat and even his coat, piling them neatly beside himself as he leaned back on his hands and took in the fine scenery.
This was why he had come to Surrey, to find some peace of mind.
Unfortunately, he was not likely to find much of that at Milton Hall, with Bingley to receive half a dozen guests.
Miss Bingley’s betrothed intended to bring his young ward, who invited a particular friend.
Miss Bingley’s letter hinted strongly that she intended to marry off the young lady in her bridegroom’s care at the first opportunity.
Just what he needed, a pair of giggling country misses following him about.
It might arguably be worse than when it had just been Caroline haranguing him with her perpetual agreement.
The days of such civility between them may perhaps be over.
It had been several months since he had last encountered her, when Darcy had been in such ill humor after a quarrel with his relations that he had responded to her supercilious fawning by informing Miss Bingley in no uncertain terms that she would do better to look elsewhere for a husband.
Did he regret it? Perhaps. Was he relieved by the results his blunt offense had achieved?
Undoubtedly. Even Bingley had applauded him, and had he been on better terms with Richard, his cousin might have held a parade in his honor.
But it seemed Miss Bingley had finally succeeded in betrothing herself to a gentleman of fortune and property; perhaps they might meet on cordial terms now that she had attained her great desire.
Darcy heard footsteps on the dock and turned around to see the object of his desire walking toward him with a radiant smile. “Mr. Darcy, I have a great suspicion that you are a very troubled man; you ought to think of relaxing sometime.”
He chuckled and beckoned for her to sit with him, giving her a bold look of challenge. Recalling what she had said to him when they last parted, he replied, “Perhaps I need a friend.”
She offered him another beautiful smile as she moved closer.
She sat down a modest distance away from him and began to unlace her walking boots.
Darcy stared for a moment at her well-formed calves and slender ankles before commanding himself to look away and allow her a modicum of privacy.
When he heard her set her boots down behind herself and dip her own small, white feet into the water, he looked back at her, lit by the sun and fairly glowing with joy.
She gazed serenely at him, kicking her feet a little in the water.
“You said, when I saw you near here on Monday… oh, let me think….” She shivered a little, and Darcy nearly did the same as he recalled their last meeting.
The feel of her in his arms had been a delightful torment, though he had chosen the coward’s path of avoiding her ever since.
Her perfect rosy lips twisted into a smirk. “You said it may be better to unburden yourself. If you wish to tell me about your sister, I should be happy to tell you about mine.”
Darcy considered this. He had seen her show extraordinary compassion to Miss Woodhouse at Randalls, both in her thoughtful reaction to the compromise and in remaining at her friend’s side upstairs while Darcy had done the same with Bingley in the study.
There was as much intelligence as intrigue in her gaze, and Darcy was torn between baring his soul to her and satisfying his own curiosity.
In the end, the latter prevailed. “You first, Miss Fairfax.”
She gave a merry laugh. “I had a feeling you would say that, sir. Have I not shocked you enough already? Ah, I see you are still suspicious of me, and rightfully so, I shall admit it.”
She was toying with him, but Darcy was far from objecting.
He stared at her, at how the light cast an almost reddish glow to her thick blonde curls, which had only been loosely pinned up, and were not covered by a bonnet.
Her pale pink day dress flattered her rosy complexion tremendously, and she looked the perfect picture of feminine innocence.
Darcy was obliged to remind himself of all the oddities that had caused him to distrust her.