Chapter 3
Drawing Room
Netherfield Hall
Noon
Netherfield Hall had good bones, but the trappings were abysmal.
The wallpaper in almost every room was faded, the carpets and curtains alike needed replacing, and not one single piece of furniture was newer than ten years old.
The drawing room was no exception. Its dimensions were adequate and the windows reasonably placed, but there its advantages ended.
Caroline Bingley looked at the couch on which her sister was sitting and shuddered.
She suspected that it was older than she was, and she was amazed at how calm Louisa was about sitting on such an ancient piece.
Mrs. Hurst seemed to be entirely focused on the work in her hand; her needle flicked with practiced speed in and out of the handkerchief in her hand, a delicate monogram developing in its wake.
“Really,” Caroline Bingley said with a toss of her red curls, “I am not certain how long I can bear to live here, Louisa. That assembly last night was so tedious, and the so-called gentry are such rustic folks, with little taste and no beauty. I wish that Charles had talked to us before choosing this estate. He is entirely too volatile at times!”
“At least Netherfield is close to London,” Louisa Hurst responded. “We can return to Town in a few short hours.”
Caroline blew out a breath and dropped into a nearby chair. She took a moment to glare at the color of the fabric, which was an ugly yellow color, and then said, “That is true enough, and if it gets too boring and annoying, we simply will have to leave. We can always stay at your house in Town.”
Louisa lifted her eyes from her work and said, “I believe Mr. Darcy prefers the country to Town.”
This was undeniably true, and Caroline leaned back in her chair and forced herself to think strategically.
Yes, the country was sadly dull, but their sojourn here would allow Caroline to spend time with Mr. Darcy and to show that gentleman how well she could keep house.
Given that her greatest desire on earth was to marry Mr. Darcy, she needed to focus on the opportunities at hand.
At this moment, the door opened to reveal Charles and Mr. Darcy, and Caroline was on her feet immediately.
“Mr. Darcy, Charles!” she exclaimed with a smile. “I hope you are both well this morning?”
The two gentlemen entered the room with solemn faces. Charles shut the door behind them, and then Darcy said, “Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, I need to inform you of a matter of importance.”
Caroline maintained her smile, but inwardly she was aware of a frisson of unease. Mr. Darcy’s grave expression was not particularly unusual, but Charles was also looking worried.
“Yes?” she prompted.
The two men looked at one another, and then Darcy said, “You remember, of course, that I regrettably compromised a Miss Elizabeth Bennet at the assembly last night.”
Now unease grew into genuine fear.
“Oh,” she said, wrinkling her brow, “you mean when she clumsily stumbled against you…”
“No, I stepped on the hem of her dress,” Darcy said. “It was my fault, and given that her former betrothed promptly ended the engagement, I have concluded that it is my responsibility to marry her.”
Caroline swallowed, and then swallowed again, but the great lump that had taken up lodging in her throat would not budge.
She was distantly aware that she was staring in a most unflattering fashion, her eyes starting wildly in their sockets, but she could not prevent this.
The declaration was impossible, fantastical!
Mr. Darcy could not marry some mere provincial country miss!
Who cared about the reputation of a nobody from a backwater?
He was master of Pemberley! He need not tie himself to a country squire’s daughter! He must not!
“Surely that is not necessary,” Louisa cried out, fortunately able to speak when her sister could not. “Mr. Darcy, there is no reason at all for you … oh, sir, pray do not sacrifice yourself in such a way!”
Darcy frowned hideously at the married lady. “There is every reason, Mrs. Hurst. My honor as a gentleman requires it.”
“But Mr. Darcy!” Caroline squealed, finally able to speak. “You cannot possibly … she is not worthy of you, and for you to throw your life away…”
“Miss Bingley,” he said sternly, “I will not stand here and listen to you insult my affianced bride. I do not expect you to celebrate my upcoming wedding, but if you cannot maintain civility, I will move to the inn in Meryton.”
“That will not be necessary, Darcy,” Charles declared, and now he was scowling at his younger sister. “Caroline, if you cannot bear to be here, you are welcome to live with Aunt Mabel in Scarborough.”
Caroline cringed. Her Aunt Mabel was the widow of a solicitor, and the last thing Caroline wanted was to be under her care, especially in Yorkshire, so far from Town.
“Neither of us will cause any trouble, Mr. Darcy,” Louisa said hastily, and Caroline managed a mute nod.
***
Dining Room
Longbourn
The Next Evening
Thursday, 15th August 1811
Jane settled into her accustomed seat and looked solemnly around dining room. Her father was already in his place at her right at the head of the table. Lizzy, as ever, was across from Jane, a comfortable spot that allowed the sisters to share glances of understanding and amusement during meals.
Normally, Mary sat next to Jane, while Kitty and Lydia were lined up next to Elizabeth. Lydia always sat next to her mother at the foot of the table, which was beneficial to both ladies, as they greatly enjoyed gossiping together.
Today a leaf had been added to the table, and that extra space was occupied by Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Jane had no objection to Mr. Bingley being seated beside her, but she was anxious about Mr. Darcy, who sat with a stern face next to Elizabeth, his affianced bride to be.
Jane thought, unhappily, that this had to be one of the most awkward engagement dinners ever.
Still, she thought wryly as she served herself a couple of slices of roasted beef, there was nothing lacking in terms of food and drink.
Mrs. Bennet had outdone herself, always eager to show off and ecstatic to have her daughter engaged to a wealthy man, no matter how unfortunate the circumstances surrounding the engagement.
Beef and ham and rolls and pies and syllabubs and platters of vegetables and tureens of soups and a boat or two of gravy and a neat little dish of butter and a mushroom ragout and a delicately steamed trout crowded the table.
On any other day, Jane would have viewed the bounty with hearty appetite.
Tonight, she could not bring herself to do more than pick at her food, dejected by the reason for the feast and feeling a bit ill.
It was Elizabeth’s second engagement dinner in just a few weeks, and the first one had been no more pleasant.
Mr. Stirling, aged and lecherous, had been repulsively pleased with his choice of bride all throughout the meal, cloying and congratulatory.
This evening, Mr. Darcy sat stiff and silent and meticulously correct, his expression remote, his answers to any remark addressed to him just barely on the polite side of curt.
It was not an auspicious start to an engagement, though it was true that he was doing the honorable thing by marrying Lizzy, when it would be quite easy for him to simply quit the town and return to London none the worse.
But beyond that, what did they know of the man, really?
Only that he had publicly insulted Elizabeth at an assembly in front of her friends and neighbors. Her poor Elizabeth!
The excellent beef seemed dry and flavorless in Jane’s mouth, and she swallowed it with an effort.
Down at the other end of the table, Mrs. Bennet was clattering on in what Jane could not help feeling was a most insensitive manner.
Anyone could see that Elizabeth was not overjoyed!
Yet their mother was delighted enough for all of them and then some.
Ten thousand pounds a year! A grand estate in Derbyshire!
Elizabeth winced and looked down at her plate, but her flush was still visible, and Jane sent her an agonized look of sympathy.
Beside her sister, Mr. Darcy sat grave and unmoved, and Jane wondered what he was thinking of his future mother-in-law.
“Miss Bennet.”
She turned toward Mr. Bingley, who was gazing at her raptly.
“Yes?”
“Are you perchance a horsewoman? I enjoy riding and would appreciate knowing about pleasant trails in the area.”
“Oh, yes,” Jane replied, forcing herself to focus on her companion. “I enjoy riding very much. There are several good rides about, including one on Netherfield land that leads to quite a charming pool with goldfish in it.”
“Goldfish! Well, how marvelous! I wonder how they got there!”
“Oh, the Profitts, who own Netherfield, added goldfish when I was but a girl, and they not only survived but thrived. I have not been to that pond in more than five years, but there were some truly large fish then, at least.”
“Would you care to ride with me to the pond someday soon to look for fish, Miss Bennet?”
She felt her cheeks warm, and she said, “I would like that very much.”
“Good, good,” Bingley replied, and his look was so admiring that she felt herself blush even more. She reached over to pick up a basket near her and said, “Would you care for a roll?”
“Very much,” her companion said, taking one.
She risked a quick glance at Elizabeth and was relieved to see that she was, at least, speaking to Mr. Darcy now. Based on the few words she could hear, they were talking about one of Christopher Marlowe’s plays.
“Is your friend a great reader?” she asked, turning back to Bingley.
The man nodded with enthusiasm. “Oh yes, Darcy is very clever and loves books. Indeed, the library at Pemberley is the most magnificent private collection I have ever seen!”
Jane’s chest eased a trifle. She had no idea whether Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy would like one another, but at least her sister would soon be mistress of a house with a handsome set of books.