5. Chapter Five
Upon their return to Longbourn Manor, Mrs. Bennet declared herself quite fatigued and went to her rooms. Elizabeth released a heartfelt sigh.
“Mamma is still a little thrown by Mr. Darcy’s height and dark curls. He reminds her of Father.”
Papa looked to his feet before answering, a sign he was marshaling his thoughts. Finally, he raised his head and spoke to his three daughters. One from his body, two from his heart.
“Your father was not only our rector but also my friend and Mr. Darcy does indeed bear a striking resemblance to Timothy Hamilton. When I first saw him walk through the doors of the assembly hall, I felt as though a ghost had joined our festivities. I am not surprised your mother was discombobulated.”
“What shall we do now?”
“Nothing, my dears. Your mother recovered her senses promptly, given the shock she must have felt when she first laid eyes on him.” Papa gave a glance at the grandfather clock in one corner of the room. “The hour is late and I know the ladies of Lucas Lodge will descend tomorrow to go over every aspect of the assembly. Your mother would be horrified if you greeted them looking as though you had not slept in days. Be off to your beds.”
Jane and Mary obediently turned and started to mount the stairs.
“Papa...” Elizabeth began, feeling somewhat responsible for bringing Mr. Darcy to her mother’s attention. He may have ignored them if not for the altercation at Lady Montrose’s ball.
“Your mother will acclimate as she has done with everything else. Let us not make a fuss over this.”
“Then, I bid you good night and shall see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Elizabeth. I am so very proud of all my girls and tonight was no exception. You make an old man very happy.”
“You are not old, Papa.”
She turned and climbed the stairs and before the hands of the clock had marked a half-hour, she was sound asleep, dreaming of a pair of dark blue eyes in a handsome face.
After the assembly, Darcy returned to Netherfield in Ash’s carriage, thankful they both could avoid an unpleasant ride with Miss Bingley. She had made no attempt to disguise her displeasure with everyone and everything, and her complaints were bound to be loud and numerous.
Although it was late when they all arrived at Netherfield, the six of them congregated in the main drawing room before heading off to their respective bedchambers as the viscount had to wait for a room to be prepared. Darcy and Ash settled into a pair of chairs bracketing a small table as neither of them wished to be trapped on a small couch with Bingley’s younger sister. That lady and Mrs. Hurst sat on the chaise directly across from them. Bingley, still full of nervous energy, paced for a bit before dragging a third chair to join their group. Hurst, already laid out on another chaise lounge, promptly fell asleep.
“I have never met more pleasant people or prettier girls in all my life,” Bingley said, out of the blue. “Everybody was most kind and attentive. I saw no formality or stiffness in manners. And, as for Miss Hamilton, I cannot conceive an angel more beautiful than she.”
“Are you certain you did not mean peasant instead of pleasant, Brother?” Miss Bingley said, her lip curling into a sneer. “All I saw were a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion.”
“No beauty! No fashion!” Bingley’s mouth gaped open. “Were we at the same Assembly? Miss Hamilton is a beautiful woman and if you cannot agree with me, I will put down your comments as petty jealousy.”
“Calm yourself, Charles,” Mrs. Hurst said. “I admire Miss Hamilton and think she would be an easy person to like. She seems like a sweet girl, one whom I would not object to knowing more of.”
“Not that I need your permission, but I am glad you approve of her as I have every intention of furthering our acquaintance.”
Miss Bingley huffed and raised her eyes upward in a dramatic fashion, as though praying for patience.
“Easy person to like or not, Brother, your beloved Miss Hamilton in naught but the near-orphaned daughter of a deceased, impoverished rector, and the stepdaughter of a minor gentleman with no social standing of worth. You are better off courting the aged Miss Lucas. At least her father is knighted.”
“Impoverished?” Ash leaned closer to Darcy and said in a low voice, “Does she have any idea how much of a cake she is making of herself?”
“Not one iota and I am not going to be the one who tells her the truth. She will find out eventually and for once I will enjoy the show.”
“...her mother’s family is all in trade,” Miss Bingley continued. “The attorney who drew up the lease for this crumbling pile of timber and rock is her uncle by marriage.”
“Enough, Caroline!” Bingley exclaimed. “Must we hear every invective that passes through your mind? What does it matter if the citizens of Meryton are not wealthy and high on the social ladder? They are generous in character and show us uncommon kindness. We are strangers in their midst. It is up to us to behave and fit in, not the other way around.”
The housekeeper appeared and announced the viscount’s room was ready. Ash rose to his feet and addressed Miss Bingley directly.
“Daughter of an impoverished rector or step-daughter of minor landowner, Miss Hamilton is above any daughter of a tradesperson. Be careful where you step with your blustering, Miss Bingley, you are in the country now and may end up with more than mud on your shoes.”
With that, the viscount pivoted and left the room. Darcy also stood, bid goodnight to the open-mouthed siblings, and followed his cousin. He found Ash waiting for him at the bottom of the main staircase and clapped him on the shoulder before they began to mount the stairs.
“I have wanted to say something like that for years,” Darcy muttered.
“What has stopped you?”
“Fear of hurting Bingley. They are his sisters and he does love them.”
“You hurt him more by not setting that woman in her place.”
By this time, they had reached the top of the stairs and continued down to their adjoining suite of rooms. Darcy’s thoughts were consumed with his biddable friend.
“I believe it is time I remove the carte blanche Bingley and I have enjoyed as friends. He is incapable of denying his sisters anything. Even when I explicitly invite only him, his sister manages to tag along.”
“Darcy, think of friendship like an overgrown rose bush. You must prune back the excess to achieve a healthier plant.”
They stopped in front of Darcy’s door and he gave his cousin a quizzical look.
“When did you take an interest in the care and upkeep of gardens?”
“I have always liked the grounds at Wyndhaven and when I escape town for Derbyshire, I dig in the dirt alongside our head gardener. Very relaxing. You should try it sometime.”
“There are times, Ash, I feel I do not know you.” Darcy opened his door and before stepping inside, tossed over his shoulder. “Mayhap I should join you. Given my latest debacle, there is much about gardening I should learn.
The next morning found Elizabeth writing a letter to her Aunt Sarah, detailing the latest meeting with Mr. Darcy when the door to her bedroom crashed open.
“Lizzy! You will never guess what has happened.”
“I dare say you are more than impatient to tell me. Now take a breath before you collapse from lack of air.”
Her youngest sister dropped onto a small chair by the window and fairly bounced on the seat. Catherine, the next eldest had come into the room by this time, and her nervous energy added to the atmosphere of barely contained excitement.
“Have you told her?” she asked Lydia.
“Not yet, you interrupted.”
“I did not. I have just come in the room and said nothing.”
“You did not say nothing, you asked if I had told her.”
“That is not interrupting—”
“Girls!” Elizabeth said sharply. “If you are going to natter over who interrupted who or other such nonsense, depart from my room and come back when you can behave like young ladies.”
“But I have not told you my exciting news!” Lydia exclaimed and folded her arms across her chest before slouching down in the chair.
“Lydia Francine, sit up straight. A young lady never slouches, never folds her arms across her chest, and…” Elizabeth gave her sister a warning look from where she sat at her writing desk. “She never pushes her bottom lip out far enough for a bird to perch upon it.”
Lydia dropped her arms and straightened her posture. At the arched brow, her elder sister sent her way, she stopped pouting and gave Elizabeth an extremely fake smile.
“Better?” she asked with saccharine sweetness.
“Much.”
“Now can I tell you my news?”
Catherine huffed and flopped onto the bed, throwing an arm across her eyes. Elizabeth gave her second youngest sister a sideways glance.
“Is it worth all the drama, Kitty?” Elizabeth asked.
“It is if you want to hear all about how the militia is coming to Meryton,” she muttered without uncovering her eyes.
“Kitty!” Lydia jumped to her feet and flailed her arms around. “That was my news to give.”
“I cannot help you took so long to tell her.”
Catherine sat up and gave her younger sister a saucy look. Lydia gaped slightly, then clapped her mouth shut. With a ferocious scowl marring her pretty face, she whirled to face her elder sister.
“Lizzy, she stole my news.”
“You stole my ribbon yesterday. Turnabout is fair play,” Catherine taunted.
“You know that ribbon looks better on me.”
“That is not the point, it was still my ribbon.”
“Girls!” Again, Elizabeth broke in, her tone one of exasperation. “Would you please take this argument into another room? I am attempting to write to Aunt Sarah and cannot concentrate when the two of you chatter like overwrought magpies.”
“Oh, do tell Aunt Sarah I love the new fan she sent for me,” Lydia said.
“And thank her for the shawl she sent me,” Catherine added.
“I have already done so at your earlier request.”
Elizabeth looked from her sisters to the open door and back to them, arching a brow.
“I hate when you do that,” Lydia huffed. When the brow lifted a tad higher, she threw her hands up in frustration. “Fine! We shall find Mary and tell her the news.”
Both girls left Elizabeth’s bedchamber and blessed peace settled in the room once more, broken only by the scratching of her quill on paper. When the sound of a carriage was heard coming down Longbourn’s gravel drive, she carefully cleaned the pen and sealed the inkpot. After sanding the still unfinished letter, she quit the room and made her way downstairs toward the parlor, rightly assuming the carriage held Lady Lucas and her daughters, come to talk about last night’s assembly.
“Did you enjoy the evening, Charlotte,” Elizabeth asked once the greetings were set aside and everyone had a cup of tea in hand.
“I did. I may not have caught the eye of Mr. Bingley like someone in this room, but Mr. Samuel Henderson asked me to dance twice.”
“How wonderful,” Jane said, blushing from the oblique reference to Mr. Bingley’s seemingly open infatuation with her. “I understand he has returned from India after making his fortune there.”
“I did not ask him about that. Instead, we spoke of what has changed while he was away and what has not.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly and said, “Conversation over what has changed in Meryton would have been short and sweet.”
“Laugh if you must, Eliza. Mr. Henderson’s fresh outlook made me realize much has changed in five years.”
“In what way?”
“For example, when he left Meryton we did not have Miss Watson’s tea shop. The Gouldings were not leasing Haye Park, and Clarke’s library did not come into existence until just last year.”
“So true! I imagine one becomes inured to what is around them.”
“Much like the frog who jumps into a pot of warm water, not realizing until too late it has come to a boil.”
The eldest Bennet”s sister had unexpectedly added to their conversation.
“Such a gruesome metaphor, Mary.”
“I was reading about the life of amphibians and this morsel of information caught my interest.”
“I am not surprised by this. Besides the pianoforte, you are fascinated with anything that crawls, hops, and slithers,” Lydia said with a visible shudder.
“Lydia, my love,” Mamma called from her chair beside Lady Lucas. “Would you and Kitty like to take Maria upstairs and show her the fan and shawl Aunt Sarah sent?’
“I almost forgot! You will die from envy, Maria.”
Lydia leaped to her feet, grabbed Maria Lucas by the hand, and tugged her out of the room, followed by a giggling Kitty.
“Lydia is so full of energy, Mrs. Bennet.”
“She is. Mr. Bennet and I have found a good school for her and Kitty. There is not enough here to keep her occupied and we all know the wicked one will find work for idle hands.”
“Your Lydia would not do anything bad.”
“Not intentionally,” Mamma said before taking a sip of her tea. “However, with the expectation of the militia quartering here in Meryton for the winter, I am not willing to place her in the way of temptation. She is at the age where she will see romance in everything, even if a gentleman sneezes, she will think it is because he is trying to gain her attention.”
“I think we all were silly when we were younger,” Lady Lucas said then smiled wide. “Do you remember when Mr. Goodman’s nephew came to visit when we were about fifteen years of age?”
“I do. I very nearly died when he smiled at me at church.”
Elizabeth and Jane looked at one another with wide eyes. They had never heard Mamma reminisce about anything before she had wed their father. At times, they forgot she had been a young girl whose heart fluttered upon seeing a handsome man, or boy.
“I remember he had a lovely smile, although no one was more handsome than Colonel… oh dear, what was his name?” Lady Lucas asked her longtime friend. “He rode in front of his men when the militia paraded into town.”
“His name was Colonel Millar.”
“Yes, Colonel Millar.” Lady Lucas closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “He sat his horse very well. Very well, indeed.”
She cracked open one eye and looked at Mamma, who blushed slightly before they both laughed heartily.
“Martha Whitby Lucas, you are a naughty woman.” Mamma looked at their four daughters who watched, mouths slightly agape. “We were young girls who thought all officers were handsome and charming and Colonel Millar was everything a gentleman and an officer ought to be.”
“Sadly,” Lady Lucas pulled out a handkerchief, and pretended to wipe away a tear, “He was happily married and broke our tender hearts.”
“My heart was not too broken. Mr. Hamilton had just arrived as Longbourn’s rector and soon, all I saw was him.”
“That is true. He was a lovely man and now you are blessed with another wonderful gentleman. Mr. Bennet still thinks the sun and moon revolve around your whims and fancies.”
‘He is a good man and I love him dearly.”
“I am glad to hear that, my dear,” Papa said upon entering the room, the Netherfield party following behind. “I am too old to find this Colonel Millar and challenge him to a duel.”
“Oh, Mr. Bennet!” Mamma said with a gasp. “You will make our guests think you are a terrible rogue with talk like that.”
“They will think I am a man who still finds his wife pretty enough to protect from other rakes and scoundrels.” Papa kissed her on the cheek and then turned to look at the male guests from Netherfield. “You have been warned, gentlemen. Mrs. Bennet is my lady fair.”
To Elizabeth’s surprise, it was Mr. Darcy who responded.
“I concede the field to you, sir.”
“You require watching, I think,” Papa mused out loud. “Do you play chess, Mr. Darcy?”
“I do.”
“Come tomorrow and we shall enjoy a game of strategy.”
“Shall we also play chess?”
Papa laughed outright.
“Oh yes, you definitely require watching.” Papa turned to Mary. “Will you ask Hill to bring in some more tea? I am certain Mr. Bingley and his guests would enjoy that new blend your uncle from town sent us last week.”