Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
F ortunately, the day of the picnic was everything it needed to be. The sky was blue, with enough clouds to provide occasional relief. Elizabeth did not believe it would grow excessively hot, and there was a breeze to cool them if it did. Soon her friends would be there, joining her and her sisters in playing lawn games, wandering in the open air, and eating the delectable food prepared in the Longbourn kitchens. Although she found things to love in every season, she thought summer might be her favourite.
Then again , she reflected as she prepared to return to the parlour, I often think other times of year are my favourite, and I always seem to have excellent reasons for it!
There was no denying that the friend she most wanted to see was Mr Darcy. At dinner the previous evening, it had come out that her father had not yet met the gentleman, and Elizabeth anticipated introducing them, both certain that they would approve of each other and nervous that they would not. It should not matter to her so much what Mr Darcy thought, but it did. She had tried to express these feelings to Jane, to see whether her sister shared them regarding Mr Bingley, but Jane had not understood. Was that simply because of their differing temperaments? Were her sentiments for Mr Darcy substantially different from Jane’s for Mr Bingley?
The Netherfield party arrived after several others. Elizabeth remained nearby as her mother warmly greeted them, offering Mr Darcy a welcoming smile when their eyes finally met. As soon as he was able, he left his friends and approached her.
“How are you today?” he asked.
“Very well, thank you. And you?” She watched as his gaze took in their surroundings.
“Likewise,” he said. “I see we are not the first here. We were delayed while Miss Bingley sought the correct bonnet to wear.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “You sound disapproving, but it is an important decision. She looks charming, thus I must believe the effort was worthwhile.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the lady and made a noise that suggested he agreed but did not find the subject all that interesting. Neither did Elizabeth, and she was pleased to move on.
“Shall I give you a tour? I would like to introduce you to my father. I suspect he is on the other side of the house with his friends, sitting in the shade.”
For the next several hours, Elizabeth refused to allow anything to prevent her from having fun. To be sure, she could have named various irritations, especially the lack of decorum displayed by her mother and two youngest sisters and Miss Bingley and the Hursts’ often sour expressions and cool manner. Rather than think of these, she recalled laughing with Mr Darcy, how readily he and her father took to each other—her father had even told him that he ought to visit one morning so that they could discuss books, ‘without so many distractions about us’—and seeing how happy Jane was, which she attributed to Mr Bingley seldom leaving her side.
Towards the end of the party, she and Mr Darcy strolled through the copse.
“Your mother has done a wonderful job arranging such an entertaining afternoon.”
“I am glad you found it agreeable. She takes great pleasure in planning parties large and small—preferably large, to my father’s dismay.” She laughed. “We like to take advantage of the summer weather, and you can expect many more invitations to outdoor excursions from people in the neighbourhood. The Gouldings have a beautiful pond on their estate, and there are some ruins within an easy distance that we like to visit every year or two, then…” Again she laughed. “I am beginning to babble. I suppose all I need to say is that you will discover we are always finding reasons to amuse ourselves. This year, finally having people living at Netherfield again—and that they are young, unlike the owner—has added something new, a spark of added interest to our endeavours. More than I appreciate it.”
Their steps were slow, almost lazy, which made it easy to regard each other without fear of tripping. It meant she saw his smile and the subtle way his eyes changed as she spoke, almost as though saying how much he appreciated being there and that she was the reason.
“A change is as good as a cure,” he said.
Her brow furrowed. “That is an odd remark. Have you needed a cure?”
He shook his head. “Not really, not in the sense that I have anything to complain of beyond the winter having been long and…”
When he shrugged, she had the impression that what had ailed him was restlessness, but she dismissed it. It was she who had that feeling all too frequently and, along with it, a desire for new experiences. She often dreamt of being able to travel, even to spend several months in town or anywhere other than at Longbourn. She loved her family and valued her neighbours, but the sameness and limitations of her life grew fatiguing.
“What are summers like in Derbyshire?” she asked. “Do you usually spend the entire season there, or do you and your sister visit family or friends?”
“We might be there half of the summer and autumn, part of that time with guests. Bingley, his sisters, and Hurst were there for almost a fortnight last summer. They were on the way to visit his family, and Pemberley was a convenient place for them to break their journey. They intended to go again this year, but changed their minds. You would have had to do without residents at Netherfield if they had. Bingley has said he would not have looked for an estate to let until the autumn.”
“I shall remember to add his altered plans to my list of reasons to be thankful.”
Mr Darcy nodded, giving Elizabeth the impression he was doing likewise. Returning to her questions, he continued. “Otherwise, Georgiana and I host our family—my mother’s brother, his wife and two sons, and my father’s brother, his wife and children. In turn, my sister and I visit their estates, if not in the summer, then at Christmas or in the spring. I have another aunt who lives in Kent with her daughter, and we customarily go to her at Easter. ”
There was a change in his tone as he spoke the last sentence, but she did not have the right to ask about it. “Where does your other family live?”
He replied and then asked about her people.
“There are not many of us,” she admitted. “In addition to Mrs Philips, my mother has a younger brother, who lives in town with my aunt and their four small children. My father’s only remaining relation is a distant cousin whom I have never met. Longbourn is entailed, and this cousin is his heir.”
“Yet you have never met?” Mr Darcy said, sounding surprised.
“Papa and the heir’s father—his name is Mr Collins—fought long ago, and they have been estranged since. The elder Mr Collins died not long ago. Perhaps now the son and my father will reconcile. But it is too lovely a day to think of such disagreeable things. Tell me, good sir, what have you learnt of the neighbourhood? Do you have a favourable opinion of it, is there anything you are curious about that I might help you with, any place you have heard of that you might like to visit while you remain at Netherfield?”
“My impression of the neighbourhood is favourable. Very much so.”
Once again, he smiled at her, this time with his gaze lingering on hers as their steps slowed until they were hardly walking at all. The look he gave her left Elizabeth feeling like she was floating several inches above the ground. What young lady would not be so affected by such an engaging gentleman giving her all of his attention?