Chapter 37 Longbourn
As they had planned, Darcy, his cousin and his three servants had risen before dawn to make their preparations and get back out on the road. At least the horses were well-rested, even if no one else was.
The inn was not a bad one. Hadley's instinct in choosing a place had proven true even with limited options after dark at the end of a long day of travel.
The rooms were moderately clean and the food moderately good.
It was just that the men would all have preferred a few more hours of sleep before setting off again.
They would also have preferred a little less road dust with which to contend, but that was the price of another clear, dry day, so they accepted it without much complaint.
Darcy did firmly secure all the carriage windows after Richard claimed the backward-facing bench, the one less vulnerable to showers of dust coming through the door and window frames.
Despite the remaining distance being greater than Richard had estimated, they made good time on their way.
It was still a little while before noon as they passed through a village that Richard identified as Meryton.
From the looks and layout, Darcy thought it could just as easily be Lambton, Kympton or any of the other country villages with which he was familiar.
He chided himself for still holding the expectations, instilled by Lady Catherine, that the village was some barbaric backwater composed of broken-down grass huts and filled with dancing savages, or something of the sort.
He had to chide himself again after Richard directed Hadley to turn down a side lane that led them through neatly tended fields accented by a well-maintained tenant farmhouse off to the side that sported a paddock nearby filled with healthy-looking sheep.
"This is Longbourn land," Richard said, looking around with a fond smile. "The main house is beyond those trees on the other side of the hill."
Seeing Darcy's expression of surprise, Richard tapped his cousin's leg with the toe of his boot and added, "Admit it, Will. You were expecting fields filled with weeds, broken down buildings and livestock so ill and weak that death would be a blessing to them."
Darcy sighed. "I know better, Richard, but years of Aunt Catherine's poisonous rants are hard to overcome. Of course, I can see that this is a fine-looking estate that speaks to years of good management."
"And do not dare forget it," Richard warned him. "Aunt Catherine has always seen the world through smoke and ill-temper. That is no reason you should."
"I know that now," Darcy said. "How did you figure it out so early?"
"I honestly have no idea. It feels like I always knew she was not to be trusted." He thought for a second before continuing. "It was probably Father's doing, or perhaps Mother's. I know they were both disgusted by the way James fawned on her whenever she would visit."
"Do you think she was paying for his affection even then?"
With an amused snort, Richard replied, "The appearance of affection, at least, which was all that seemed to matter to our aunt. She attempted to bribe me several times, but whatever she offered always struck me as being like poisoned apples, so I refused."
By this time the carriage had traveled over the wooded hill and was now on a lane curving gently down the face of the slope.
Richard pointed off through the side window to what was obviously the manor house.
Golden-brown stonework on the substantial building gleamed in the sun along with a surprising number of generously sized windows.
Darcy saw a neatly tended formal garden off to one side with what appeared to be several healthy rosebushes, although they were not yet in bloom.
"It may not be Pemberley, but the house is a fine one," Richard said. He raised an eyebrow as if challenging his cousin to disagree.
Darcy raised his hands in mock surrender. "You will hear no argument from me," he said, "and no disparagement of anyone or anything inside. Consider me a new man with all my old prejudices swept under the carpet even if they are not quite forgotten and disposed of yet."
"Well then," Richard said with satisfaction, "I think it is time you finally met my godfather."
~o~
Darcy entered the house determined to look on it as if it were a new locale about which he had never before heard. He would judge it and the occupants on their merits, not gossip.
The entryway was clean and welcoming enough to have met the standards of his own housekeepers at Pemberley and Darcy House.
The Longbourn housekeeper, Mrs. Hill, sounded genuinely delighted to see Richard and the door and she greeted him with familiar fondness.
Darcy remembered she had known Richard since he was a small boy and her manner made sense.
"Oh, Colonel Fitzwilliam! Welcome back, sir! It is a joy to see you returned safely from the war."
Briefly, Darcy wondered if she might greet Richard with a hug, but the moment passed. She greeted him with perfect courtesy instead.
"It is a joy to be back," Richard said. "My cousin, Mr. Darcy, and I would like to see Mr. Bennet if we may. Is he available to visitors?"
Mrs. Hill smiled kindly. "I know he is available to you, Colonel. He is in his study, sir, and will be happy to see you. He left word that if either of you arrived, you were to be shown right in. Will you and Mr. Darcy be staying the night?"
"I expect we probably will," Richard confirmed. "My cousin has three servants with him, a coachman and two footmen. They will need food and places to sleep as well. I can show myself to the study if you need to go make arrangements for us all."
Darcy thought Mrs. Hill regarded Richard with the same fond tolerance Mrs. Reynolds had for him at Pemberley. "It is not for the first time," she said with a slight shake of the head, "and God willing, it will not be the last. You go along then. I will see to everything else."
Before leading the way down the corridor, Richard thanked Mrs. Hill and Darcy offered her a respectful nod. Clearly, she was a servant who took pride in her family and their home and she deserved his courtesy.
They walked down the corridor, Richard leading and Darcy following.
As Darcy glanced into the open doorways they passed, he saw a series of public rooms that looked bright and inviting.
The abundance of windows and all the light they brought in made a difference, of course, but from what he saw of the rooms they were also clean and arranged for the comfort of family and guests.
"They must pay a fortune in window tax," he said softly to Richard.
"A fair amount," Richard whispered back, "but Mr. Bennet thinks the extra light and air are well worth the cost."
Although he said nothing in reply, Darcy agreed with the sentiment. Just then, the corridor turned a corner, and they passed what was clearly a music room. Richard led his cousin beyond that and to a door at the end standing slightly ajar. Richard knocked on the door frame.
"Enter," called a man's voice from within.
As Richard pushed open the door, Darcy saw a room he would been proud to call his own.
One side was dominated by a sturdy desk arranged for ease and efficiency of work.
The wall behind it and the other interior walls were lined with bookshelves containing a large but neatly arranged collection of volumes.
Three chairs stood on a circular carpet in front of the fireplace, and a small table with a chessboard on it stood nearby.
The westward facing windows provided ample light, now that the sun was high, and some heat to warm the room.
Not quite enough heat for the occupant of the center chair, however.
Darcy heard the crackle of a fire in the grate, and the man in the chair had a gray wool shawl wrapped around his shoulders for even more warmth.
Mr. Bennet, for Darcy was correct in assuming it was he, broke into a wide smile when he recognized Richard standing in the doorway.
"Richard!" he cried. "You are a sight for sore eyes, young man! Come in! Come in and introduce me to your cousin."
"You are correct in your assumption that my companion is Fitzwilliam Darcy, my cousin," Richard said cheerfully as, much to Darcy's surprise, he headed for the desk rather than going directly to the man who was struggling to rise from his chair.
As Richard reached the corner of the desk, Darcy noticed the miniature chessboard that had once belonged to his father, as well as the newer brass plate on it that clearly said "Darcy".
Casually, as if he had done this many times before, Richard looked over the game in progress, picked up the tweezers from their place next to the board and made a move.
"What are you doing?" asked Darcy, amazed by the proceedings.
Both Richard and Bennet laughed merrily at his surprise, and Richard answered, "It is tradition here, Will. I am making a move on your father's behalf. Let Mr. Bennet take his turn, and you can do the same."
Bennet had gotten to his feet and approached the desk as Richard spoke. He took the tweezers from the younger man, nodding approval of the play even as Darcy said, "I do not understand."
Bennet moved his bishop, then offered the tweezers to Darcy, who took them automatically.
"It is a simple matter, young Mr. Darcy," Bennet said.
"I truly enjoyed my many games with your father over the years.
When you sent me the board, I thought the best way to honor him was to keep it out and in use.
I added the name plate, as you can see. I play my side, and each visitor to my study who is so inclined makes one move on your father's side per visit.
It has resulted in some very challenging games along with some I have won in the first few moves.
Just the opportunity to play on this lovely little board prompted my youngest daughters to take up the game and improve their skills.
I appreciate you having made a gift of it to me. "