Chapter Three #2
Since marrying Bingley’s dying brother, Rebecca had attained the independence she had prized over the prospect of becoming a wife and mother.
The earl had tied the knots tight in the marriage contract; part of her fortune purchased a house in Mayfair where she resided still, and the rest had been left to her when Henry succumbed to consumption a fortnight after their union.
What had been his then passed to his brother Charles Bingley and their sisters.
Rebecca always did as she pleased, and Darcy could sense that she was intent on a bit of mischief as she tossed the horse at Richard, who staggered a little as he moved to catch it. “Where to, Becky? I hear Timbuktu is lovely at this time of year.”
“Ha ha,” she deadpanned. “As it happens, I am of a mind to travel with you when you go into Hertfordshire. It seems you shall need a feminine ally, if you are to find a bride.”
Richard threw his head back and guffawed, then refilled his brandy. “All of us men got the ring! Why not plague Darcy or Phillip with your assistance?”
“Because I intend to plague you and Bingley instead. Is the regiment you are to lead not very near that little estate Bingley let last year?”
“Netherfield? There is a regiment in Meryton,” Bingley said with excitement as he went to sit beside her.
“Yes, Meryton. It sounds very quaint, but I am sure I can turn the little village upside down. What if Richard were to take a shine to the lovely Miss Bennet, whom you have lately abandoned?”
“Pistols at dawn,” Bingley cried. “But he would never – we have not the same taste in women.”
“You both like every pretty lady that smiles at you, and I fear Phillip is growing to be quite the same. But you have told me all about her, Charles, and it seems to me she would suit Richard splendidly. You say you must think prudently, Richard, but you always have the Scottish pile.”
“If I took a bride to that drafty old wreck, she would refuse to consummate the union!”
Darcy grimaced at Richard’s vulgarity, but when he glanced at his sister, she had once again begun to doze.
He smiled at her, a little sorry that what Georgiana needed most was not on the billiard table.
She wanted confidence, friends her own age, and to see the good in the world again after her disillusionment at Ramsgate.
“I have thought of going back for Jane,” Bingley sighed. “Caroline believes it is a mesalliance, that Jane never returned my affection, but I am not proud of my hasty departure. And I liked Netherfield.”
Rebecca grinned widely. “Then let me keep house for you – send Caroline to the Hursts, or to Scarborough, or to the very devil. She will only muck it up for you – you did get the handkerchief before the ring.”
“And I shall need my handkerchief if Richard tries to make love to Jane Bennet,” Bingley said with earnest dismay.
Richard waggled his eyebrows, and Rebecca beckoned for him to sit beside her. “Brother, I cannot think why are you taking over the regiment at all! I heard all about your high-stakes game in November.”
Phillip laughed. “You missed some jolly good fun at the club while you were in Hertfordshire, Darcy! This drunken boor – I forget his name – he was far too in his cups to be at the card tables. His friends tried to talk sense into him when he had lost more than enough to Richard, but he was determined to win it all back, and he wagered the deed to his estate, some drab place in Sussex – the entail was broken when he inherited.”
Bingley gaped at him. “Did you win?”
“I did,” Richard said with a serious scowl. “I cannot think it right to deprive the man of his home, even if he was an ass.”
“So give him the Scottish pile you despise, and keep the manor. It cannot be far from London.” Rebecca shrugged her shoulders as if they were talking about a mere trifle, and not an entire estate.
Richard stroked his chin. “I thought I may agree upon a sum, and give him some time to satisfy it, for the return of the deed to the place, Norfolk or something.”
Rebecca screwed up her face. “Norfolk is not in Sussex.”
Richard glanced over at Darcy. “What do you think?”
“Your plan seems fair – what sort of man would gamble his own home? I cannot think he deserves it. But I do not like the notion of you all going to Hertfordshire; Georgiana will need your support, for she is to have a sort of practice season, with limited privileges to attend events with good people, and begin to mix in society.”
“I should be the last person to be of use in such an endeavor,” Rebecca said dismissively, “I am too prone to meddling, and I do not wish to inveigle her in any of my mischief – it would only make you more severe with me, Darcy. And anyhow, I should rather watch Charles and Richard have it out over the famous Miss Bennet. I hope she is a lively creature who shall appreciate their quarrel as much as I shall.”
“She is not,” Darcy said. “Her younger sister Miss Elizabeth is witty, but I found Miss Bennet rather insipid. She is not worth the quarrel you mean to incite.”
Bingley scowled. “She is very sweet – perhaps a little too demure – but….”
“She is shy? Oh no, that will never do. Perhaps for Richard, but you are so agreeable, Charles, that you must find a lady who will give you a little trouble. What of this Miss Elizabeth? Is she pretty? Is she as wicked as me?”
“Nobody could be that,” Darcy said with wry affection. He refused to admit that she was very pretty – she was perhaps the handsomest woman of his acquaintance, for all her laughter and looks of intelligence.
Bingley shifted uncomfortably, as if sensing Darcy’s disapproval of his return to Hertfordshire. “But why have we not teased Darcy? He finally got the ring, and the crow – I should dearly wish to see what that portends!”
“Just the same as I prescribe for you,” Rebecca chided him. “He will fall in love, and she will give him a great deal of trouble before he wins her heart.”
“Ha! Darcy in love!” Phillip shook his head as he emptied the decanter into his glass.
“But we cannot have him too distracted, for I shall rely on him as I rejoin society. I have spent my year of mourning at Matlock, and I am ready to be flirted with by all the ladies of the ton. I shall require his good judgement, so that I am not taken in.”
Rebecca gave Darcy an arch look. “And I suppose you would rather play nursemaid to Phillip and Georgie than find romance yourself?”
Darcy sipped at his brandy, those fine eyes lingering in his memory. “Absolutely.”