Chapter 3
Three
Bingley crowed to his friend, “What a night, Darce! I never met so many pleasant people, nor so many lovely ladies.”
“I have the feeling that this is an exaggeration, friend. In London, when you meet and dance with three to five times the number of people we saw tonight, there must be at least as many pleasant people and lovely ladies.
“You cannot bring me down with your logic! I may have met the love of my life.”
Bingley was surprised to see Darcy wince a bit, and he said, “I say, is your headache still bothering you? Deuced wretched things, headaches!”
“It is a bit better,” Darcy said. “I am certain I will get up in the morning, pain free. At any rate, you referred to the love of your life, and I am curious. Could you mean Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, naturally, who else?” The two men exited their carriage and entered the Netherfield manor house, handing over their coats, hats, and gloves to the waiting servants. “Would you like some food, Darcy? Or tea, or brandy?”
“Any of that you wish for, Bingley, I will join you.”
Darcy, rubbing his forehead, settled into one of the chairs as his host rang for food and tea. When Bingley flung himself into another chair to wait for the supper he had ordered, Darcy said, “All the Bennet ladies are handsome.”
Bingley laughed a bit and used his hands to show the ladies’ relative beauty.
“Here is Miss Mary,” he said, holding his hand at heart level.
“Here are most of the young ladies of the world”—his hand rose to shoulder level.
“Here are Miss Elizabeth, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia,” he said, raising his hand to the top of his head, “and way up here is Miss Jane Bennet.” At that point, he raised himself up on his toes, extended his arm as high as it could go, waving his hand as if he could not quite reach the level he aimed for, and then he grinned and gave a little jump.
“As you see from my demonstration, she is beyond my reach.”
Darcy chuckled and shook his head. “I very much doubt that Miss Bennet is beyond your reach, Bingley. If you doubt me, you could call on her tomorrow morning, and I could go along for support, and we can see how she responds to you.”
“Splendid idea, Darce. I am shocked you came up with it, since sheep and wheat are your areas of wisdom, not the ladies.”
Darcy sighed. “I warrant you are correct, but I do know one thing about ‘the ladies.’”
Bingley grinned, expecting a tease. “What is that?”
Bingley was startled that Darcy stood up, a stern look on his face.
“I think that ladies deserve more consideration than a comparison of their person, especially when such a comparison is expressed in so simplistic, almost rude, a manner.” He jabbed at the air at various levels.
“I also happen to think that not every human would rank relative beauty the same way.” His eyes narrowed. “And Miss Mary is not plain.”
Bingley was shocked. Where had all this passion come from?
“Do you like Miss Mary?” he asked.
Darcy frowned. “Of course not. I do not know Miss Mary.”
Two servants entered the drawing room with trays, and Bingley looked over the cold collation, breads, and cakes with satisfaction.
Before getting a plate, he turned back to Darcy with a sincere grimace, saying, “I apologise for my comparison. When I think of how Miss Bennet would feel about my words, had she seen and heard me, I am convinced she would be angry. That fills me with shame. In this case, Darcy, you have demonstrated greater knowledge of the ladies.”
Darcy just nodded.
Bingley said, “Come, eat with me!”
The morning after the assembly, Elizabeth woke early, as usual, donned one of her older dresses, pinned up her hair in a simple style, and fetched her pelisse and shawl. On her way out the door for a ramble, she passed through the kitchen, as was her custom.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth,” Cook said. “I made too many rolls today, so ’tis best you take two.”
Elizabeth did not believe a word the beloved servant said. Cook seemed to be on an endless campaign to fatten her up. She smiled fondly and said, “Thank you, I will.”
As she slathered the warm rolls with butter and marmalade, Cook asked, “How was the gatherin’ last night, miss?”
Elizabeth laughed. She had never known another servant like Cook.
The older woman had a reputation among the servants for never gossiping, but she was quite motherly towards Elizabeth—to the extent that she would seem to most people to be overly friendly and forward with her.
But the fact was, she only behaved that way when she and Elizabeth were alone.
When her mother first hired Cook, around four and a half years ago, Elizabeth wondered why the woman was so very proper with everyone else but treated her—at least when nobody else was near enough to hear—as if she were a beloved niece.
Eventually Elizabeth decided that Cook saw that Elizabeth’s mother almost constantly criticised and scolded her.
Elizabeth was always, according to Mama, dirtying her hems, “ruining” her complexion, wearing out her half-boots, reading too much, spending too many hours outdoors, laughing too often, and speaking too boldly.
Elizabeth decided that Cook must have felt that she needed some mothering.
Responding to Cook’s question, she answered, “It was very nice. We met the new leaseholder of Netherfield Park, and Jane and I got to become reacquainted with Miss Darcy’s brother.”
“Oh, how nice. But…Miss Darcy herself was not there?”
“No, she is not out yet, so she would not attend an assembly, but she is not even residing in the area. She remains at Pemberley.”
“’Tis too bad, miss. ‘Twould have been nice to see your friend again.”
Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully, thanked the servant, and strode outside into the pale light and long shadows of early morning.
She was quite struck by the fact that she had not felt even a moment of regret that Georgiana was not in Hertfordshire.
She had been so filled up with wonder about the coincidence that had brought Mr Darcy back into her life, and so many thoughts about him had raced through her mind, she had little thought of his sister.
When she had met Georgiana, the girl had been only ten years old and terribly shy.
She was able to express herself more easily by letter than in person, but Elizabeth had never felt as if the girl was one of her best friends.
Perhaps it was that they had only known each other a few days, many years ago, or maybe it was merely the difference in their ages.
Elizabeth reached the goal of that morning’s walk: the top of Oakham Mount. From that highest spot in the area, she could see all of Longbourn, Lucas Lodge and its garden, most of Meryton, and the parts of the estate of Netherfield Park that touched the furthest reaches of Longbourn.
As she considered Cook’s question about Georgiana Darcy once more, Elizabeth realised that she still thought of Georgiana as a little girl—and she knew that she needed to readjust her mental picture of her.
After all, Georgiana was now fifteen, the age Elizabeth had been when she met the Darcys.
Five years ago, Elizabeth had felt like a young lady, not a child.
Even if she had not been of marriageable age—not really—a fifteen year old wished to be treated like a woman grown rather than a child.
Another, more startling, realisation was that Mr Darcy must have known that she and Jane might be attending the assembly, because Georgiana had been addressing every single letter for all these years to:
Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet
Longbourn, near Meryton
Hertfordshire
Elizabeth wrote several letters after her walk: to her Aunt Maddie Gardiner, to two of the former leaseholders of Netherfield Park, with whom she kept in touch, and to Georgiana.
In each letter, she mentioned something about Netherfield Park and Mr Darcy.
The letters to her former teachers concentrated on the new leaseholder, Mr Bingley, but she mentioned Mr Darcy because she wished to reiterate her jest about the men having to teach all the ladies in the neighbourhood.
Her letter to Aunt Maddie emphasised the coincidence of meeting Mr Darcy again—and she took the time to remind her aunt of the particulars of their first meeting.
With Georgiana, she focused most on the girl’s brother and the very great coincidence that had enabled them to meet again.
“I do so wish you had travelled with your brother,” Elizabeth wrote.
“But I know such a long journey must be arduous. I felt for Mr Darcy, because he had apparently suffered all day and all evening with a headache, which he said he managed to acquire on the road.”
She reminded herself that Georgiana must surely be feeling very grown up these days, and she re-read the letter again. Feeling it suited the purpose, she decided to add a bit about literature, telling Georgiana what she was currently reading and asking her about her current book.
While she waited for the ink to dry, Elizabeth looked around the parlour. Mary was reading, Kitty and Lydia were making over bonnets with fresh ribbons, and Jane and Mama were doing needlework.