Chapter 4
On Monday, all the residents of Netherfield descended on Longbourn during calling hours.
Mr and Mrs Hurst were dull but polite, but Miss Bingley carefully laced her tone with just enough derision to subtly inform her hosts that her enquiries about their health and the state of the roads were wholly insincere.
Mr Bingley was his usual easy-going, smiling self, but Mr Darcy was more tense and silent than he had been the morning before.
Elizabeth eventually suggested a walk. She had ascertained during her early-morning ramble that an entire day of drying out had made most of the paths mud-free. Only Mr and Miss Bingley, Jane, and Mr Darcy agreed to the plan; the others stayed near the honey cakes and the fire.
Mr Bingley, to nobody’s surprise, escorted Jane.
Miss Bingley attempted to clutch at Mr Darcy’s arm, of course, but he walked with both of his arms behind his back, denying his support to either of the two remaining ladies.
Elizabeth deliberately set a fast pace that Mr Darcy easily matched, and Miss Bingley, complaining of her fashionable footwear, ended up walking with the more sedate walkers.
When they were far from the others, Mr Darcy spoke. “I wanted to tell you something very important.”
“Please do.”
“I was originally planning to go back to Pemberley in a week or so, and I was considering attempting to adjust my plans in order to stay here a little longer….” Mr Darcy sent her one of his intense looks before continuing, “But I received an express this morning; there was a forest fire and a landslide that occurred near my estate. One of the older men who works at one of the two mines located on my land is anxious that the mine’s safety has been compromised.
My steward is reluctant to make any decisions and urges my swift return.
I feel it is my duty to go immediately, and I made all the travel arrangements to depart tomorrow. ”
“Oh, dear. I…will be sorry to see you go.” Elizabeth did feel sorry; as a matter of fact, she felt entirely downcast, even though she had tried very hard to ensure that she was keeping her feet firmly on the ground, and not allow herself to daydream about a deeper connection with the man from faraway Derbyshire.
“I am sorry to leave so soon, and especially so precipitously. I may return…. I have not done all that I promised, so it is possible I will return to work with Bingley.” His words were quite sweet, but his tone was forbidding, and Elizabeth was not certain what to say.
Eventually, he said, “I know it is an oddity to write to someone you have never met, but would you do me the very great favour of consenting to correspond with my sister?”
“Certainly I would. But will your sister agree to such an arrangement?”
“I believe she would. Georgiana is almost sixteen, and she is very shy. Very, very shy. I should love for her to meet you, but for now I hope she can learn some of your good humour and joyfulness, your strength and candour, through exchanging letters. I feel that I learn so many things from reading; it seems possible to me that she could learn from you through the written word.”
Elizabeth felt almost faint from the praises Mr Darcy had just heaped upon her.
But she could not allow herself to be so weak as to swoon just when a man complimented her strength!
She said, “I should love to get to know her, sir. I thank you for the opportunity. Should I write an introductory letter you can take with you? I could have our footman deliver it tonight; I imagine you wish to leave at first light?”
“That would be wonderful, Miss Elizabeth.”
“And I certainly hope you can determine a way to solve whatever problem you discover in your mine. Do you mine lead?”
“Yes, that and coal. We have a small coal mine and only take as much as we use to run the estate. The lead mine makes a profit; and it is this one that might be endangered from the landslide, according to my tenant. I have learnt to trust him, and I look forward to making the mine safe again, if I can.”
“I have always assumed you know a great deal about planting, growing, and reaping crops, but now I suppose you must also know about minerals and mining techniques in order to make decisions.”
“Yes. Along with sheep and cattle herding, horse breeding, and lumber production, with a very fine sawmill. I must know something of every one of Pemberley’s concerns, in addition of course to the concerns of my other estates.
But like any other gentleman, I am able to hire a steward for each estate and, if needed, expert help; and my tenants and servants and other workers are uniformly excellent.
I am very blessed to have inherited well-run estates and companies. ”
“Goodness, that is a very large number of concerns! I knew you had a house in London, but I had no idea that you had multiple estates!” Elizabeth was very impressed by Mr Darcy’s list of profit-making concerns.
Her father barely stirred himself to notice even the yields of the home farm or the profits from the sale of barley.
Mr Darcy’s words painted him as an industrious and diligent gentleman.
“I was overwhelmed when I first inherited,” he admitted. “And there are times when I wish I was not quite so responsible for quite so many people. But my duties result in many blessings. I can have no complaints.”
Elizabeth nodded and said, “I am very impressed, no matter how you wave your hands as if all that were perfectly ordinary. From what you have said, Pemberley is your ancient ancestral home. I find myself wondering why the Darcys would have additional estates.”
“They were meant for second or third sons. But then there was just me and Georgie. And many tiny little graves.” He stared out at the horizon, blinking back moisture.
Elizabeth felt tears of sympathy form in her own eyes. “Oh, dear! You have endured so much loss in your life. I am all—I cannot express—how sorry I am. I seem to regularly cause you painful memories.”
Mr Darcy extended his arm, and Elizabeth gladly took it and squeezed it briefly. He put his other hand on hers and squeezed back. “Thank you,” he said in a rumbly low voice. “I hope to have children someday; I may need a couple of extra estates.”
Elizabeth looked up at him just as he was looking down at her. She blushed; he did the same. They were both silent as they looped around the path, heading back to the house.
That is when Miss Bingley reached them—when they looked far more entwined than at any other time during the walk. She screeched, “Mr Darcy!”
He merely stared at her while Elizabeth subdued the urge to smile. She nodded her head towards Mr Bingley’s supercilious sister. That lady walked to Longbourn with them, remaining as silent as the others. Elizabeth and Mr Darcy moderated their pace so the woman would not struggle to keep up.
Elizabeth’s mind raced. Mr Darcy’s touch, even through layers of clothing, affected her deeply.
His request that she correspond with his sister caused her to hope—but there was a part of her that did not wish to hope, that assumed hope was destined to be crushed and that internally screamed that she must do everything in her power to avoid that fate.
His intense look straight into her eyes just after speaking of potential future children made her feel squirmy and uncomfortable at the same time that it made her feel warm and comforted.
It was impossible to feel all of those things at the same time, but… she did.
That evening, Elizabeth wished to call on every facility she had to write a charming letter to a stranger.
As she got out pen, ink, and paper, she remembered that Mr Darcy had said that his sister was very shy.
Earlier in their acquaintance, he had informed her that, despite his attempts to protect his sister, he had “almost lost” her.
At the time, Elizabeth had barely known him at all, and it had seemed important to let him tell her what he wished, without judgment or questions or even interruption.
But now she rather wished she knew what “almost lost” meant. Had Miss Georgiana Darcy had a riding accident and almost died? Had she fallen desperately ill? Had she almost been kidnapped in a bid for a sizeable ransom? Had she been attacked by a man who wished to—
Suddenly, several thoughts clicked into place, as if they were tumblers of a lock responding to the correct key.
Wickham likes ‘em young, according to Mr Darcy’s cousin.
Mr Wickham deflowers young ladies, according to Mr Darcy.
Combining those two thoughts with the concept that Miss Darcy had almost been lost made her wonder if Mr Wickham had imposed himself on the much younger girl. Or come close to doing so?
She felt sick to her stomach at the thought.
But she reminded herself that there were scores of possibilities of things that could have happened to Miss Darcy, from scarlet fever to falling down a stairway, from falling through the ice in winter to almost drowning in spring floods.
Elizabeth shook her head to rid herself of all of those negative speculations, and she determinedly set her pen to paper:
21 October 1811
Longbourn, near Meryton, Hertfordshire
Dear Miss Darcy,
Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Elizabeth Bennet, and I live on my father’s estate, Longbourn.
It is only a medium sized estate, not a grand one as I suspect yours to be, but we grow a wide variety of vegetables and grains; we raise rabbits, chickens, and a few goats, pigs, and cows.
It is not nearly as cold and snowy here in Hertfordshire as it is, my father tells me, in Derbyshire.