Chapter 3
Elizabeth’s Bedchamber
Longbourn
Elizabeth looked around with deep contentment as she turned to hang a dress in her wardrobe.
It was so good to be back in her bedroom at Longbourn.
Her bedchamber at Osea House was serviceable, but she was far more at ease here at Longbourn.
In the many years since she had emerged from the nursery, she had made it her own, with beloved trinkets, her most dog-eared books, and some of her happiest memories.
It was roomier, more comfortable, and also warmer in autumn and winter, largely because it was lacking the probing sea breezes that could search out even the tiniest crack between pane and sill.
With her favorite chair drawn up close to the fire, she could curl up and read when the wind blew, the rain fell, or the snow piled up on the windowsill outside.
“You look tired, Lizzy. Are you truly well?”
Elizabeth turned a fond look on her older sister and said, “I am, but I am also tired. I was intending to stay on the island for a fortnight longer, and then Mother called me back. Not that Father or Mary needs me, of course, and the island harvests are all in as well. So I am happy to be home.”
“Is Longbourn home, Lizzy?” Jane asked, her lovely face grave. “I have wondered what it is like for you, living on the island almost as much as you live here.”
Elizabeth, who had been leaning over her partially unpacked trunk, straightened and turned a thoughtful look on her sister.
“That is a good question, Jane, but yes, I do still feel that Longbourn is home. I like Osea House and Emerald Island very much. I love the view of the ocean and the salt breezes. But you are here, and Mamma and the younger girls, and I was born here. But enough of me, how are you, Jane? Are you looking forward to meeting Mr. Bingley?”
“I suppose,” her older sister replied with a shrug. “I have no expectation that he will make me an offer, but it will be pleasant to meet new people.”
“Have you met any of the militia officers?”
Jane shook her head and said, “No. According to Lady Lucas, the first group of officers will arrive in the next fortnight or so.”
“I see,” Elizabeth replied, carefully hanging up her favorite dress and brushing it to make the wrinkles fall out as much as possible. “Well, Jane, what do you think of this request from Mamma for new dresses?”
Jane sat down on the seat near the window and said, “Well, I do not need anything, but if you think the estate can bear the cost, perhaps Kitty and Lydia could be permitted something new?”
“My dear Jane, I have a reasonably good memory, and that is exactly what you said the last time Mamma insisted on new attire. Lydia and Kitty both were awarded new dresses, and you received nothing.”
“I do not need anything.”
“You may not, but I am quite determined that you shall have a new gown to show off your beauty. Perhaps Mr. Bingley will prove to be the most charming man in all of England and the perfect husband for my favorite sister.”
Jane smiled at this, though her brow was furrowed a trifle. “I know that you are always generous with me, and all of us, but I do not wish to burden the estate…”
Elizabeth shook her head, causing Jane to fall silent, and she said, “I promise you that I will not outrun the constable, as they say. We are receiving the rents from two estates now, and there is plenty of money for new dresses for all of you.”
“And you, I hope?”
“I truly do not want a new dress, Jane, because I have no desire to attract the attention of Mr. Bingley. For this season of life, I have far too many responsibilities to consider marriage.”
“That is not fair, Elizabeth, and you know it. You have just as much of a right to find a husband as any of us. I will refuse to purchase a new gown if you do not obtain one for yourself as well.”
Jane’s expression was unusually mulish, and Elizabeth sighed and walked over to sit down next to her sister.
“Jane, Father signed papers only two days ago, which make me the owner of Emerald Island, though Uncle Gardiner will serve as trustee until I reach my majority.”
Jane frowned and said, “You mentioned that as a possibility some weeks ago. I am glad that Father has done exactly that. You deserve ownership of the island given how hard you work.”
“I do not pretend to deserve anything, but the truth is that I am now a legitimate heiress, and I have not decided what to do with that reality.”
Jane bit her lip and then nodded slowly. “I suppose that is true. The income of Emerald Island is…”
“One thousand five hundred a year, and the yields of the tenant farms continue to rise, and the rents will as well. I have also been working to bring more fishermen onto the island, with the understanding that Father … that is, I will receive twenty percent of their profit from their catch. I expect that in ten years, the income could be two thousand a year.”
“Like Longbourn,” Jane mused and smiled. “You are doing a remarkable job.”
“Thank you, but I foresee two possible problems. The first is that I will be pursued not because of my character and my person but because of my wealth. The second is that, for all that Emerald Island is mine, I have every intention of supporting Father and Mary in their astronomical pursuits, and I am also saving diligently for you and our sisters and Mamma for that day when Longbourn is lost to us. I fear that most eligible young men will be unhappy at being informed that all the income of their bride’s estate is set aside for the needs of her family. ”
Jane wrinkled her nose, blew out a breath, and said, “I understand your concern, but surely there are gentlemen in this world who would understand about your loyalty to us? Moreover, you are far more than a fortune, Lizzy. You are an intelligent, wonderful, beautiful lady, and any man would be blessed to win you!”
“We will see,” Elizabeth replied, standing up and walking over to her almost empty trunk to finish unpacking.
Jane was one of the kindest, most generous women in all of England, along with being incredibly lovely, but she was also, Elizabeth thought, a trifle na?ve at times.
The reality was that most men were more interested in money than looks or personality, and Elizabeth had no intention of falling victim to a handsome face in search of a fortune.
She sighed and deliberately changed the subject. “How are Kitty and Lydia doing with their schooling, Jane?”
“They are doing very well,” Jane replied. “Miss Fairchild is ill, you know, which is why she was not in the drawing room when you arrived.”
Elizabeth turned in surprise and distress. “Ill? In what way?”
“Oh, do not worry Lizzy, it is only a bad cold, but Mamma does not want it to spread, so she ordered Miss Fairchild to stay in her chamber until she has entirely recovered. I did not mean to frighten you.”
Elizabeth relaxed and smiled. “I can only remember our dear governess falling ill perhaps twice in the last fifteen years, so it is rather a surprise.”
“Yes, she is generally very healthy,” Jane agreed.
“In any case, both Lydia and Kitty are making good progress with their studies, and Kitty has a real talent for mathematics. Not anything like Mary, but she is quite skilled. She is also improving quickly in her sketching and painting, and Lydia is working hard on her playing the pianoforte.”
“That is good,” Elizabeth replied. Miss Fairchild, who had been hired many years ago to be governess to the Bennet daughters, was more family than employee now.
She was the only daughter of an impoverished gentleman who had gambled away his money, and thus the young woman had been forced to make her way in the world.
Elizabeth found time to be thankful once again for her Uncle Gardiner, who had interviewed countless young ladies and managed to find one who was a gifted mathematician who also played the pianoforte and was an accomplished artist.
***
On the Road to Netherfield Hall
Tuesday, 15th October, 1811
Darcy took a deep breath of crisp, cool air, relishing the slight breeze and autumn sunshine and the familiar rock of Phoenix’s gait beneath him.
A wool scarf wrapped about his neck and the top of his coat protected him from the chill that stung at his nose and freshened his lungs, while his heavy overcoat kept him comfortably warm.
He was thankful that the clouds had not chosen to deluge him with rain because, while Darcy was well aware that there was one seat left in the Bingley carriage behind him, he had no real wish to fill it.
It would be too crowded for his taste, crammed into a relatively small box with not only Bingley, but both of Bingley’s sisters, along with one of the sister’s husband, who was not a slender man.
Hurst would not bother Darcy much, however.
It was Miss Bingley who was the driving force that fueled his desire to stay away from even such comforts as hot bricks and rugs.
She always flirted and flattered and boasted and simpered and coquetted and batted her lashes at him until Darcy felt quite insane.
Far better to ride and share in the heat of his vigorous stallion.
This way, too, he could look at the land as they rode and assess this unknown estate that Bingley had so impulsively leased without consulting his older, wiser friend.
It seemed Providence had smiled on Bingley this time, however, for the fields looked good, neither arid and sandy nor bogged down with standing water, and what appeared to be perfectly adequate drainage ditches ran alongside the lower fields.
The fences and walls that he could see from the road were all sturdy and in good repair, and even one distant stile stood tall and firm rather than sagging.
It was possible, of course, that the tenant cottages were tumbledown and in need of repair, but it did not seem likely.
Unhappy, neglected tenants tended to result in unhappy, neglected fields and livestock as well.
Darcy saw no such signs of inattentiveness as he rode along.
Phoenix blew a little as they ascended a rise, and Darcy reined in at the top for a moment as the carriage came more slowly behind them.
At the base of the hill, Netherfield Hall was visible, rising red and stately in the midst of its lawns, with sturdy brick and dark-painted shutters and windows that winked in the sun.
Darcy felt his heart lift as he looked down at it while Phoenix shifted beneath him.
The next few weeks should be comfortable and relaxing, a most welcome thought after such a stressful summer.
Bingley was a good-hearted fellow and was Darcy’s closest friend.
The man exuded warmth and cheer like a fire, and Darcy was ready to bask in his friend’s amiable presence.
It would be vaguely irritating to share a house with Miss Bingley, but such inconvenience paled in comparison to the prospect of games of billiards and long companionable rides and evening conversation over brandy or Madeira beside a warm fire.
Darcy adjusted his scarf and touched his heels to Phoenix’s sides, urging the stallion down the hill towards the distant house.
Already he could all but feel the warmth of the fire and sense the peace of that evening, and his anticipation of that happy tranquility sent him surging with renewed strength down the last stretch to the house.