Chapter 2 #2
“Well, I can at least go in with you and get an idea of the level of risk. We can adjust from there?”
“Thank you.” Darcy offered his arm, she took it as if they were the best of friends, and they strolled into the house. Footmen took their outerwear, and the butler immediately showed them to the blue drawing room, murmuring, “The family has been awaiting you, sir.”
“Happy birthday, Mr Darcy!” Miss Bingley squealed. Her eyes turned to Elizabeth, and her simpering smile became a grimace. “What is she doing here?”
Darcy stopped and stared at the woman. He was stunned, then stunned anew.
His first shock was that Miss Bingley should know his birthday. He did not believe that any of his friends knew, and even his closest relations never acknowledged the anniversary of his birth. The only person in the entire world he was confident knew his birthday was Georgiana.
Ahh… Miss Bingley must have coerced his sister to reveal the date.
The second shock was Miss Bingley’s outright rudeness to Elizabeth.
He knew Bingley’s sister would not be genuinely warm and welcoming—those were hallmarks of Elizabeth’s personality, certainly not of Miss Bingley’s—but he had expected a snide attitude barely hidden by insincere words and false smiles, not frank hostility.
He said, “I came upon Miss Elizabeth Bennet while on my ride this morning. She was deeply involved with—in the middle of, indeed—a heroic deed, but she needed a bit of support to complete the task, and it is that which made my return quite late. I apologise if my tardiness caused any worry.”
Bingley surged forward with a delighted smile and a bow. “Welcome to Netherfield, Miss Elizabeth. I imagine you will regale us with your tales of heroism during breakfast, will you not?”
Bingley turned to Darcy and added, “My sisters arranged a special breakfast in honour of your birthday. Such is the nature of surprises, you could not have foreseen such a party, but since the meal has been delayed, what say you do the quickest wash up?”
Darcy turned to Elizabeth and murmured, “If you truly need to get home, I will order my carriage for you; but if you would consent to stay, I can send a footman to Longbourn with a message, so your family will know you are safe here at Netherfield. Which is your preference?” He hoped his eyes conveyed how dearly he hoped for the latter.
“As it is your birthday,” Miss Elizabeth whispered back, “I imagine that I can stay for a special breakfast.”
“Splendid!” Darcy hastened to Samuel, one of his own trusted servants, with a message for Longbourn.
He asked a housemaid he recognised as Sally to attend to Miss Bennet, saying in a low voice that could only reach her ears, “Miss Bennet saved the Ackermans’ very young daughter from drowning this morning.
However, her heroic rescue resulted in her being thoroughly soaked.
The Ackermans and their hearth did what they could to mitigate the damage, but please see to her every need with discretion.
” He offered Sally a guinea as he said the word discretion.
Sally curtseyed and, giving her promise of circumspection, she hurried to Elizabeth.
Darcy then hastily cleaned his hands and face with soap and water and returned to the drawing room.
Bingley seemed to be trying to talk his younger sister out of her pique.
Darcy engaged with the Hursts instead. Mindful of his resolution to smile more and to present a kinder, friendlier version of himself to Hertfordshire, he strode up to the couple and smiled.
“Look what I found on my ride,” he said to Hurst, pointing to his grin.
Mrs Hurst stared, and Darcy scolded himself again for behaving so poorly that people who knew him for years were surprised to see a smile on his face.
But Hurst said, “I could not help but notice your acquisition, Darcy, and I must say that it suits you!” He reached out his hand, and the two men shook.
Bingley hurried over and said, “Darcy, it is good to see you looking more yourself.”
Darcy aimed a grateful smile towards his friend. It was a kindness to act as if a smiling face was his usual, and the severe expressions that had dominated recent months were atypical of him.
Miss Bingley moved to his side with her affected smile; from experience, he knew to thrust his hands behind his back so that she could not clutch at him.
She said, “I do not believe we can wait longer for Miss Eliza. It would be a shame to ruin your special meal, which I laboured over to give you the—”
Darcy flouted propriety by interrupting the hostess. “I apologise again for all the delay. Even if I had known about the birthday breakfast, I would not have been able to attend in a timely way. What occurred this morning was literally a matter of life or death.”
Bingley joined in, “Caroline, Darcy’s birthday cannot be an excuse to treat even unexpected guests poorly.”
At that moment, Elizabeth reentered the room. Darcy caught his breath, and he did not need to order his face to smile—rather, a heartfelt grin burst out as he saw her.
Sally had somehow procured a beautiful shawl and some slippers, and Elizabeth looked as if nothing untoward had occurred. Darcy imagined that her half boots were being brushed and put out with several other garments to dry on a hearth, somewhere.
“Miss Elizabeth!” Bingley said. “You look quite recovered. Are you prepared to thrill us with your tale?”
She smiled back and said, “Let us hurry to this meal that Miss Bingley has been kind enough to labour over.”
Darcy chuckled inwardly, realising that Elizabeth had overheard Miss Bingley’s ridiculous use of the word laboured, when the woman had merely issued orders.
Elizabeth went on, “And, yes, Mr Darcy and I would be happy to relate all that has occurred this morning.”
Darcy had to admit that Miss Bingley had done a fine job of ordering all of his breakfast favourites.
Pound cake and queen cakes, brioche and marmalade, boiled eggs and cuts of ham, and even kedgeree.
He found himself quite hungry, so he paid his hostess the compliment of eating seconds as well as giving her all due praise.
In response to his gratitude, Miss Bingley preened and giggled. The expensive private seminary the Bingley patriarch had sent her to had not bestowed upon the woman even a modicum of true elegance.
During the delicious meal, Elizabeth told the group about the rescue of Betty Ackerman, although she gave Darcy too much credit in the telling.
He interrupted her three times to give a more truthful account of Elizabeth’s courage and fortitude.
Bingley was boundless in his interest and applause, and Hurst joined in with appreciative words.
Even Mrs Hurst seemed genuinely impressed.
Miss Bingley, Darcy noted, became more stormy with each word of approval from the others.
When the story was complete and Bingley’s enthusiasm had been fully expressed, Darcy turned to Bingley.
“I did not realise until this morning that Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth have been seeing to Netherfield’s tenants as well as Longbourn’s.
That is quite a long way for them to come, and since you are the leaseholder… ”
“Have they?” Bingley asked. He turned to Elizabeth for confirmation; she merely nodded.
Darcy said, “You and I have met with Mr Ackerman, when I first arrived and we rode the estate together in October. But we did not learn anything about his family. Miss Elizabeth knew that Mrs Ackerman has recently been delivered of a son, and she knew that the woman has since been taken unwell with a fever.”
“Oh!” Bingley said. “I had not realised, as Miss Elizabeth told the story, that this was a Netherfield tenant whose wife she aided and whose child you both saved.”
“So… for the next few days…” Darcy looked his friend in the eyes with every intention of browbeating him into the sort of responsible attitude a landowner ought to have for his tenants.
“Yes, I must send the apothecary,” Bingley said. “And… and consult with Mrs Nicholls on remedies for fever? And perhaps Mr Hatcher has more information I would need to address all of the Ackermans’ needs.”
Darcy nodded. “Very good, and yes, your steward should be able to help you know of the tenants’ needs.
But I will say one more thing in regards to landowners, leaseholders, and tenants: neither the men nor the women of the tenant families are likely to tell a man of all that the family needs.
If a woman is with child, if a midwife is needed, if there is need of medical intervention with some aspect of childbearing or other female complaints…
then it is possible that neither you nor Mr Hatcher will be told of it.
That is why it is useful for the mistress of the estate to meet with—”
Miss Bingley’s cry, “Surely not!” was voiced in such a high pitch that Darcy feared for his eardrums.
He turned to her. “It is a certainty that the mistress of Pemberley, when there is one, will do what my mother always did, which is to visit tenants and tend to their needs.”
He watched with satisfaction as she blanched. Perhaps, at long last, Miss Bingley would decide that he was not the husband she desired, and Pemberley was not the home she coveted.
That would be a fabulous birthday gift.