Chapter 21
Asuccession of quiet, rainy days of reading before a fireplace and chess games in the bookroom, plus the steady work of embroidering gowns to be worn at the wedding, pressing napkins, writing place cards—were followed by several more active and sunny days.
It was on such a pleasant day that Darcy’s closest relatives, other than his sister, were due to arrive.
Mr Bingley joked, “Yes, I have ordered my housekeeper to air out anything from three to six principal rooms, plus of course quarters for the earl’s servants. I am not certain that Mrs Nicholls appreciated my lack of foreknowledge.”
Elizabeth laughed. “That is quite a disparity, sir. But Mrs Nicholls is a treasure, so I imagine she bore up well.”
“Of course you are correct. I am certain you will love Darcy’s cousin Richard, the colonel.”
“Love, Bingley?” Darcy queried. “Is that not a bit of a strong emotion that my betrothed ‘must’ feel for another man?”
They all chuckled, although Elizabeth felt Darcy’s hand squeeze hers a bit harder than she expected. She decided that he might, in fact, feel jealous, and she hoped to be able to relieve it in any way she could.
At the expected time, almost to the minute, the Fitzwilliam family arrived. Georgiana joined Elizabeth and watched the three carriages rolling up the drive with a smile on her face. Elizabeth asked, “Does three carriages mean the entire family?”
“Well, one carriage will be the servants. But there being two family carriages indicates that there will be more than just my uncle, aunt, and one cousin.
The bustle on the front steps of Netherfield was heartwarming. Georgiana was much exclaimed over, in the vein of “You look so happy!”
Darcy said, “I know that introductions in the parlour would be more dignified, but Georgiana was eager to welcome you as soon as may be. That said, Uncle, Aunt, cousins, allow me to introduce my bride, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Elizabeth, may I present the Earl and Countess of Matlock, the Viscount and Viscountess Hodgestone, and Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.”
“Catherine was not able to come, nephew, but she sends her regards,” the Countess said to Darcy. Then she turned to Elizabeth, claiming both of her hands, and said, “I am delighted to meet the woman who could put that smile onto my favourite nephew’s face. You must call me Aunt Helen.”
Elizabeth’s smile went from friendly to dazzling; she curtseyed and said, “Thank you, Aunt Helen. I hope you call me Elizabeth.”
“Speaking of Catherine,” the colonel said, slapping Darcy on the back, “Our Aunt Cat seemed extremely upset to receive your invitation. What could you have been thinking to invite her?”
“I was thinking that she was my mother’s sister, and I ought to send her one. If it makes you feel any better, I hoped she would not come….”
“Good man!” the colonel said.
Elizabeth studied him, knowing that he was the third man she had seen, years ago, when she was but eleven years old.
She remembered that he had a pleasant face, and he still did, but he was more changed than Darcy or Mr Wickham.
His face was much fuller, he had a small scar on one cheek that gave his face an interesting asymmetry, and he was starting to bald.
The colonel had turned to Elizabeth, and his smile became very appreciative. He said, “Well, one look at you, and I am no longer scratching my head over my cousin’s choice of a complete unknown.”
Elizabeth laughed softly as she heard four protests at the same time. Darcy said, “Richard,” with a warning sounding clearly. The countess sounded horrified, the earl exasperated, and Georgiana pained.
Elizabeth said to the colonel, “And thus you announce that you will play the role of Puck in our Midwinter’s Daydream.”
The colonel threw his head back in a laugh so loud, Mr Bingley’s hound began to howl.
“Call me Richard,” he said, enclosing Elizabeth in a bear hug and kissing her soundly on one cheek.
“Come, greet Bingley and his family. They are your hosts, you know.” Darcy grabbed his cousin by both arms and pretended to drag him away from Elizabeth.
She laughed again, shaking her head as she said to Georgiana, “The colonel is…quite a force.”
“And a terrible flirt,” the girl replied.
“Oh, really? I had not noticed,” Elizabeth claimed while rubbing her cheek with her hand.
Bingley seemed delighted to have even more houseguests, and Miss Bingley positively fawned over those with titles.
Elizabeth could not help but notice that the viscount and his wife were very quiet.
They looked more snobbish than reticent, but they had the good taste to curl their lips in derision over Miss Bingley’s sycophancy.
Elizabeth decided that their reaction to Miss Bingley dictated that they receive a second chance at making a good impression.
She approached them with a pleasant smile and asked if they had come from Derbyshire or London.
Hearing that the two of them had come all the way from Hodgestone Hall, near Matlock, she asked if Hodgestone, like Pemberley, concentrated its livestock on sheep and cattle, or if it had different livestock needs.
The viscountess looked dismayed at the topic, but the viscount eagerly told her about his experiments with goats.
“Do you raise a particular breed of goats? At my father’s estate, we have a small number of Old English goats, and they are much hardier than most of our livestock, they keep the weeds at bay, and they give very nice milk.”
“Actually, I am the proud owner of Bagot goats!” he exclaimed.
“I do not know if you have heard of such creatures…” he enthused for several minutes and begged Elizabeth to call him Stephen and his wife Althea.
Naturally, she asked them to call her Elizabeth.
But upon that transfer from formality to family, Elizabeth was led away by Aunt Helen, who wished to ask about the wedding breakfast and cake, and who invited Georgiana and Althea along, as well.
Having led the ladies to a small parlour, acting as if she considered the entirety of Netherfield as an extension of her own home, Aunt Helen said, “Well, my dear Elizabeth, I can easily see how you attracted my nephew. In addition to your most obvious charms, you are witty, you know your Shakespeare, and you can speak about livestock. But I wish you to consider this: once you are married, when in society you will be speaking more to women than men. Did you notice the expression on Althea’s face when you brought up sheep? ”
Althea looked embarrassed, and Elizabeth blushed; naturally, with the older, more confident women feeling awkward, Georgiana immediately did, too. She looked down, said nothing, and blushed deeply.
Elizabeth set aside her discomfort and said, “Do not worry, Georgiana, your aunt is trying to help me, not to cover my head with sackcloth and ashes.” She linked arms with Georgiana and said to the countess, “I honestly was attempting to make Stephen and Althea feel more comfortable, because Miss Bingley’s…
conversation seemed to give them pause.”
“That woman is horrible,” Althea said, speaking almost as softly as Georgiana. Elizabeth hoped the viscountess spoke at such a low volume because it would be awful to be overheard insulting one’s hostess, rather than because all women of the ton were expected to speak softly.
“Thank you for understanding, Elizabeth,” the countess said.
“I think your confidence will stand you in very good stead. But let us explore what sorts of topics will not produce the…alarm…that crossed Althea’s face.
Starting with you, daughter,” she said, turning to Althea.
“What would have made you feel more comfortable?”
Althea attempted a smile but ended up seriously considering the question. “I suppose the weather and the roads are safe and familiar topics.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Unfortunately, in this case, Mr Bingley had already brought up both topics, and at least six sentences were exchanged on each one. I feared that bringing them up all over again would immediately induce a severe case of boredom.”
“Actually, Elizabeth, you might be able to make roads and weather interesting,” Georgiana said bravely. “Everything you say is so…sparkling!”
The countess wagged her finger at the others and said, “Remember, ladies, she already has Darcy. Elizabeth does not need to be clever and witty when she is among a group of ladies. She probably should not be sparkling. She will have already walked into the room and entranced all the men, so most of the ladies will already hate her. She will want to say something expected, and complimentary, and comfortable.”
“Wait!” Elizabeth put up one hand. “Entrancing men? That does not happen—that has never happened. And I hope the ladies will not instantly hate me before I even open my mouth!”
All three of Darcy’s relatives looked at her in surprise.
Althea said, “Did you not see—?”
The countess said, “With your eyes and smile and figure, I am certain that you have been entrancing men everywhere you go for at least a few years, if not half a decade. Have you never noticed?”
And providing the tail end to the commentary, Georgiana said, “I have been wondering for this entire fortnight how you manage to be so humble, but…has nobody ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Elizabeth felt truly confused. The three women staring at her were, she was certain, completely serious.
They had no reason to concoct an elaborate hoax, and Georgiana, at least, seemed too shy to be an amazing actor.
She realised that they truly thought her beautiful, so much so that they were amazed that she did not know it.
“Fitzwilliam has said it to me,” she said in a low voice. “I always feel so lucky that he loves me, and we all know that love is blind.”
The countess made a sound that could not be a snort—because she was a countess!—and she almost looked on Elizabeth with anger. “Are you attempting to tell me that he is the only one—”