Chapter 12
Elizabeth and Jane entered the breakfast room together the next morning.
Jane was not usually so inclined to rise at such an early point in the morning.
But the prospect of seeing Mr Bingley, plus a great curiosity as to the events of the previous evening, called her from her bed.
Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley were already seated to table, as were Mr Bennet and Mrs Bennet.
An elaborate array of breakfast foods was set out on the counter, including eggs three ways and a variety of meats.
Elizabeth could see that her mother had made sure that nothing was missing that their guests might wish to have, as this was not the standard Longbourn breakfast!
The gentlemen arose and bowed to acknowledge their entrance, and Elizabeth barely managed to suppress a giggle.
Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley were both attired in Mr Bennet’s old clothing.
The clothing was of excellent quality, although out of fashion by at least twenty years.
Mr Bingley did not look so bad; the clothing was a trifle loose and unbecoming on him, but Mr Darcy looked entirely odd.
Elizabeth could see that one of the staff had made some rudimentary alterations to the trousers.
They had been cinched in at the waist to ensure they at least remained in place on his slim form, and they were tucked into his boots, Elizabeth supposed, because they did not reach his ankles.
The shirt he wore was of the finest quality, and it fitted him quite well.
It must have been one kept for best when her father was a young man.
A blush suffused his face as he noted Elizabeth’s amusement, but Mr Bingley displayed no such embarrassment.
“You find us quite at the mercy of Mr Bennet’s wardrobe,” Mr Bingley explained. “We were dining with the officers last evening, and the rain took down the bridge to Netherfield,” he said.
Mr Darcy added, his tone not matching his words. “We are most grateful to Mr Bennet,” he said, and then added, “and Mrs Bennet, for their kind hospitality.”
Elizabeth noted that all the words he used were correct, but the look he wore, and the tenor of his voice, gave the exact opposite impression.
“Indeed,” Mr Bingley said, in a joyful voice, as if to him this was all a grand adventure.
“If not,” he said, looking at Jane, “we would most assuredly have washed away. If you had seen us, Miss Bennet,” he said, and then added, “and Miss Elizabeth, you would have thought us water sprites; we were soaked through!”
Jane smiled at him, and Elizabeth smiled too at the whimsy of the picture he drew of them both.
“Water sprites,” Mr Bennet repeated, obviously equally amused at the image. “More like drowned sailors!”
A blush flashed across Elizabeth’s face, for she had seen Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley when they had arrived, and she had to admit that there had been something magical about the first gentleman’s appearance. Although she could not for the life of her explain what it had been.
The explanation of their attendance at breakfast in Longbourn – and being so unusually attired – having been given, Elizabeth and Jane took their seats at the table.
“I hope to ride over to inspect the stream after breakfast,” Mr Darcy said, addressing the suggestion to Mr Bennet.
“I will accompany you,” Mr Bennet confirmed.
“I would welcome that,” Mr Darcy replied, and Elizabeth could not perceive any undertone to the words.
“I will be able to guide you to the narrowest point, which should allow you to accurately assess the likelihood of crossing to Netherfield.”
“Lord, what is he doing here?” Lydia’s strident voice rang through the breakfast room, and in some ways her outburst was understandable, but Elizabeth wished her youngest sister would be more circumspect.
“What are you dressed like?” her sister continued in a most unladylike manner until her governess, Miss Farnsworth, who had entered the room behind her, gave her a most quelling look.
“Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley were stranded in Meryton as the bridge went down in the rain,” their father explained. The stern look on his face did more to quiet Lydia than the wordless reprimand from her governess had.
“Oh,” she replied in a voice several octaves lower and said no more, as she seated herself at the breakfast table.
Mr Darcy had not missed the impolite pronouncement, but Mr Bingley was entirely engaged in talking to her eldest sister and seemed to barely notice Lydia’s entrance, even though both men had risen and bowed.
The shrill entrance by Lydia had brought a halt to all conversation, except for the quiet murmuring of Mr Bingley and Jane.
Before breakfast ended, their father gave instructions for both Archimedes and Mr Darcy’s horses to be brought around to the front.
Elizabeth saw Mr Darcy’s eyebrows raise when he heard the name of her father’s horse, but Elizabeth thought it matched him well.
She decided to position herself in the parlour as they exited, so that she could see Mr Darcy’s reaction to the beast.
Elizabeth saw Mr Darcy’s mouth drop open at the sight of him.
Archimedes, a name bestowed on him by Mr Bennet because he had a mind of his own, was a great black stallion, standing sixteen hands tall.
He was still half wild, and he would only allow either Mr Bennet or Elizabeth to ride him.
He eyed Mr Darcy with a look which made Elizabeth happy; she knew that Archimedes would not betray her.
He looked as if he were considering having Mr Darcy for dinner.
Elizabeth knew that her father had not always been a good master of Longbourn, but the last few years had seen a change in his attitude.
Longbourn was now managed diligently, thereby ensuring that the Bennet family maximised the estate's profits.
In order to manage the land properly, Mr Bennet had purchased a fine horse.
He had come to Mr Bennet only just broken and not properly trained.
This had allowed him to purchase the horse– which in the early days he had called a beast– at a very good price.
“A very fine animal,” said Mr Darcy, in what Elizabeth felt was an understatement.