Chapter Twenty-Five
The next morning saw Mrs. Bennet at the breakfast table, head held high.
She had been the first to host the new neighbours, and her daughters – at least, Mary, Jane and Elizabeth – were on a first name basis with a young lady who was the niece of an Earl!
Miss Darcy was too well-bred to have mentioned it, of course, but the servants at Netherfield Park had not been slow in making the Darcys’ superior connections known to their counterparts at Longbourn, and Mrs. Hill had informed her mistress of the fact immediately upon learning it.
Of course, it had not escaped her notice that Mr. Bingley had spent a good deal of time with Jane.
Since Mr. Bennet had begun to save for his daughter’s dowries, her nerves had calmed down a good deal; so while she might have thought Mr. Bingley a fine prospective husband for Jane, she did yet not know the man well, and had no wish to force any of her girls into a marriage that would not be a happy one.
“Mama, last night’s dinner was very good.”
“Thank you, Jane; I thought everyone seemed gratified.”
“Oh, very much so! Mr. Bingley said he had never imagined country dinners to be the equal of those he had enjoyed in Town, but that your dinner certainly was every bit the equal of, if not superior to, Town dinners.”
“High praise indeed, Mrs. Bennet!” Mr. Bennet had come into the breakfast room just in time to hear Jane’s comment. His tone was mocking. “I am certain that remark will be repeated in our drawing room thrice a day for the next sennight.”
Jane looked down at her plate, but Elizabeth, who had come in just behind her father, said, coolly, “And why should it not be? Mama puts a good deal of effort into her entertainments, and the praise was warranted. If she wishes to share it with her friends, that is surely her privilege.”
“The fact that said praise comes from a wealthy gentleman does not hurt, I suppose,” Mr. Bennet went on, censure in his voice.
“No, it does not hurt at all; since he is accustomed to a good deal of fine dining in London, the compliment must be all the more deeply felt,” Elizabeth returned at once. “And Mr. Darcy made a similar comment to me about the quality of last evening’s meal.”
Mr. Bennet shrugged his shoulders. Facing the salvers, he said, “I suppose he, too, is accustomed to a good deal of fine dining, given that he has an enormous estate in Derbyshire, or so says his friend.”
“Oh, does he?” Mrs. Bennet said. “That is good to know.”
“Is it?” her husband replied, coldly. “For what that tells me is that if he is looking for a wife, he can look a good deal higher than the daughters of an insignificant country gentleman.”
“I do not doubt you,” Mrs. Bennet said, shrugging. “I was not thinking of Mr. Darcy marrying one of our girls, Mr. Bennet. I was only thinking that his sister is a good acquaintance for them.”
Mr. Bennet had now turned his attention to his plate, and would likely speak no more.
The Bennet girls were long accustomed to their father’s behaviour toward their mother. They could not openly confront him, but they lent their mother support whenever possible.
Privately, they all wondered if Frances Bennet neé Gardiner, called Fanny, had truly understood her husband’s character before marrying him.
Their dear friend, Charlotte Lucas, was fond of saying that it was best to know as little as possible about a man before marrying him, but the daily warfare that was part of life at Longbourn argued to the contrary.
***
After breakfast, Mary went to the piano; the other girls walked to Meryton, the two youngest in the lead, and the two eldest several yards behind.
“I liked Georgiana very much,” Elizabeth said.
“I am glad we have new neighbours. And it is good for Mary to have a friend,” she continued.
“Being the middle sister…” She trailed off; indeed, there was no need for her to finish the sentence.
Elizabeth and Jane had long understood the difficulties Mary faced.
Mary was not just the middle sister; she was also the least attractive of the Bennet girls.
They feared that Mary was likely to remain unmarried and forced to care for whichever parent or parents required her assistance later in life.
Both older sisters had made considerable efforts to encourage Mary to choose better clothing and a more attractive hairstyle, but Mary had resisted every attempt. It seemed that she was willing to embrace the future that seemed to await her.
“Mr. Bingley seemed to have a good deal to say to you last night, Jane,” Elizabeth said, grinning at her sister, whose blond curls had escaped her bonnet and now floated in the wind behind her.
“Oh! He is so very amiable!” Jane replied, trying to catch her wayward locks and tuck them back under her bonnet.
“Are you blushing, Jane?” Elizabeth teased her.
“Not at all! But while we are on the subject of last night, I noticed Mr. Darcy sitting beside you more than once.”
Elizabeth made a face.
“Do you not like him, Lizzy? He seems very gentlemanly.”
“Actually, he rather reminds me of our father,” Elizabeth said, her tone carefully neutral.
“Oh. So… you do not like him.”
“I suppose I should reserve judgement until we know one another better, if that ever occurs.”
Upon reaching Meryton, Kitty and Lydia spied Maria Lucas and ran at once to join her.
Feeling that their younger sisters were safe enough with Lady Lucas overseeing them, Jane and Elizabeth went into the bookstore.
It was run by Mr. Edwards, who was always delighted to see anyone with the last name of Bennet in his shop.
Mr. Bennet was his best customer, and Mr. Edwards thought that Miss Elizabeth would likely have been his second best, had she but the funds for it.
“I suppose you have heard the news,” Mr. Edwards remarked.
“News?” Jane asked. “I have heard nothing out of the ordinary; might you tell us?”
“The militia is coming to Meryton!”
“Oh, heavens!” Elizabeth exclaimed, turning to Jane. “We will need to lock Kitty and Lydia up in the attic!” She looked back to Mr. Edwards. “When is this to happen, do you know?”
“I believe within the month. It will not matter much to me, soldiers not being great readers, but I know that Graham over in the White Swan is rubbing his hands together for joy.” Mr. Edwards chuckled.
“Yes, I imagine the pub will be a great favourite,” Jane agreed.
The bell over the door tinkled, and the two girls looked up in time to see Kitty, Lydia and Maria rushing in, with Lady Lucas close behind. “Have you heard, Lizzy?” Lydia exclaimed eagerly.
“About the militia? Yes.”
“Oh, too bad. I wanted to be the one to tell you.” Lydia was disappointed, but her upset did not last long. “Will it not be wonderful? So many men in Meryton, all in uniform! I suppose I shall faint dead away when I see them!”
Kitty set up a protest. “It was me who said that I would faint dead away!”
Maria could not be left out. “I am certain it was my idea first!”
“You can all faint dead away, but do not do it now,” Elizabeth snapped. “Lady Lucas, good morning.”
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth,” Lady Lucas replied, grinning hugely. “Have you ever heard such nonsense?”
“Sadly, all too often,” Elizabeth replied. “The girls will have to be watched carefully; these men will not all have good characters.”
“I suppose not,” Lady Lucas agreed. “But you must admit that it is all very exciting!”
Elizabeth could only shake her head.
Lady Lucas continued. “I will call on your mother later today; I am certain she will want to tell me everything about last night’s dinner. I hope it was a success?”
“It certainly was,” Elizabeth said, warmly. “The company and the food were all excellent; everyone behaved well and parted with every intention of seeing one another again quite soon. The newcomers are all very agreeable.”
“I am very glad to hear it. Will they come to a card party, do you think? It is two gentlemen and two ladies, is it not?”
“It is two gentlemen and one young lady; she is the sister of one of the gentlemen. I am certain they would enjoy your entertainment.”
“Excellent. I shall certainly send round an invitation to my next card party.” With that, Lady Lucas and Maria departed, leaving Kitty and Lydia to argue over who first had the magnificent idea of fainting dead away.
***
At Netherfield, the previous night’s dinner party was the subject of much discussion. “You seemed to spend a good deal of time with Miss Bennet,” Mr. Darcy observed over ham and eggs.
“Miss Bennet is lovely, Darcy!”
“She is, I agree.”
“But?” Mr. Bingley asked.
“But nothing,” Mr. Darcy shrugged. “We are in agreement.”
“I must see her again!” Mr. Bingley banged his fist on the table in his excitement.
“I am certain that you will.”
Georgiana came in, yawning.
“You stayed up after we got home, I take it?” Mr. Darcy asked his sister.
“Oh, yes! I had a good deal to consider! I would like to know Mary better; might she not come to Netherfield?”
“There is no reason that she should not,” Mr. Darcy said, raising a questioning brow at Mr. Bingley.
Mr. Bingley agreed, “No reason at all. Invite her for tea. And perhaps her sisters, as well,” he added, thinking of Miss Bennet.
“Oh, yes; I will invite all of them!” Georgiana clapped her hands together.
Mr. Darcy thinking that the two youngest might not be a good influence on his sister, quickly said, “Perhaps just the three eldest, Georgiana.”
“Very well, Brother. Will you join the party?”
“Bingley and I generally ride out on the estate in the afternoons,” Mr. Darcy said.
Mr. Bingley protested, saying he would not wish to miss an opportunity to see Miss Bennet, but Mr. Darcy forestalled him, saying that gentlemen should not be present at a ladies’ tea.
But even as he spoke, a memory of Miss Elizabeth swam before his eyes.
She was not as beautiful as her elder sister, but there was something about her…
something that he could neither identify nor articulate…
but something…and he also could not help thinking that she did not like him.