by Jennifer Joy
She walked in the direction of Lucas Lodge, knowing nobody in the house would be awake yet. She would not risk seeing Mr. Fawcett otherwise. Workers labored out in the fields, their backs bent over as they harvested the last of the hay.
Mr. Dixon waved at her, his arms full of hay the same color as his hair, brightened from working long hours under the sun.
“Good morning, Mr. Dixon. It is a fine morning, is it not?”
“Yes, miss. We are making hay while the sun shines.” Freckles danced across his cheeks as he smiled. He looked all around him, turning as he did so. “Nope, no pitchforks around here. I suppose I am safe.”
Elizabeth laughed at the memory of their encounter in the barn so many years ago. Where had the time gone?
“I miss those days sometimes. To be young and carefree…”
Mr. Dixon shook his head. “You can have them. I am happy with my lot— a good roof over my head and a kind master in Sir William Lucas.”
“You never speak of your youth. Was it so bad?” She knew it was rude to ask, but she was curious, and he would not be offended when she was the one to rescue him from their barn and secure him work with their neighbors.
“No amount of money would tempt me to return to Der—,” he stopped abruptly. “To return there. My life is here now.” He kicked at a clod of dirt at his feet.
He had revealed more than he cared to. Never one to relent in satisfying her curiosity, she had tried many times over the years to learn more about Danny Dixon. This was the first time he had fallen for any of her probing questions. It struck her sense of irony that he should reveal where he was from when she had hardly tried. So many other, artfully conceived attempts had been fruitless.
Elizabeth sensed his embarrassment, and her conscience moved her to reassure him.
“Do not concern yourself, Mr. Dixon. If it is so important to you, I will not speak a word.”
He visibly relaxed. “I know you can keep a secret, miss, and I thank you.”
She turned to leave, greeting some of the workers by name as she passed. Her mind reeled at what she had just learned. Danny Dixon was from Derby or Derbyshire. She was certain of it. Why was he so secretive? What was he hiding?
Three o’clock rolled around, and with it came Mr. Fawcett, wearing white satin breeches and a bright blue waistcoat the color of a peacock. To Elizabeth, he resembled the regal bird and would better proffer his company on the Prince Regent or the more fashionable ton.
Making sure her daughters posed just so in their sitting room, Mother sat with a piece of embroidery in her hands, depicting the calmness of an accomplished woman who has her household firmly under control. So long as Mr. Fawcett did not look at the knots she made too closely, it set a charming scene of domestic command.
“What a lovely sight to behold. It is to your credit, Mrs. Bennet, that you have such lovely daughters.” Mr. Fawcett’s chin flapped at his enthusiastically given compliment.
Elizabeth had seated herself beside Jane, allowing no room for anyone else to sit. A perfectly acceptable tapestried chair sat empty between Mother and the door.
“Lizzy, be so kind as to summon your father. I do not think he is aware we have a caller.”
Elizabeth hesitated to move, knowing full well who would occupy her vacant spot.
Jane sighed and nodded at her with a small smile of resignation. It pained Elizabeth to see her sister admit defeat so easily.
She rose and before she reached the door, Mr. Fawcett had made his way to Jane on the sofa.
Marching to Father’s study, Elizabeth waited a second after her knock before entering. As usual, Father was oblivious to his surroundings. So engrossed was he in his reading, he merely waved her over to her usual perch and continued.
“Father, we have a visitor.” She waited for a reaction. Nothing.
“Father, Mr. Fawcett has come to call on Jane.” This time, Mr. Bennet lowered his book and looked at her over his spectacles.
“He is here?” He crossed his fingers, resting his hands under his chin. Elizabeth gave him some moments of silence as he pondered something. When he looked up, she was glad to see a little glimmer of mischief in his eyes. Standing up from his desk, he said, “Well, let us welcome the man.”
Elizabeth was uncertain of what to expect, but she somehow felt better going back to the room with Father. Maybe, just maybe, he would do something to discourage Mr. Fawcett’s attentions.
Father was cordial and polite while Mr. Fawcett tried to impress them with descriptions of the balls he had attended during the season.
“It was such a crush, it took me the better part of an hour to go from the front door, past the ballroom, to the refreshment table. By then, I was so parched, not even the champagne could quench my thirst. Of course, when one is so well-known about town, it is difficult to progress through a room.” He mentioned lords and ladies Elizabeth recalled reading about in the papers and hearing about from her aunt.
Mother, Kitty, and Lydia were mesmerized by his list of friends, as well as by his descriptions of elegant clothes and decorations.
Father waited until Mr. Fawcett paused to breathe before he spoke. “How good of you, with all the superiority of greater acquaintances and entertainments, to visit our humble home, Mr. Fawcett. It pains me as a father not to have been able to give my girls occasions to see such grandeur as you describe.”
Mr. Fawcett shifted his weight in his chair. “Surely, you could allow your eldest daughters a proper season?”
“Indeed, no. My estate is small and entailed to my next male relative. It shames me greatly, but I know you to be a man of discretion who will not think poorly of my daughters for their father’s lack of fortune. Otherwise, we should never have presumed that you would honor us with a call during the social hour.”
Mr. Fawcett’s complexion deepened ever so slightly, but he accepted the compliment. “Of course, Mr. Bennet. A true gentleman would never deny his company to such a family as yours over such a trifling thing.”
He drained his tea cup and looked at the clock ticking on the top shelf of the fire mantel. “Oh, dear me, has a quarter hour really passed?”
“Tempus fugit,” contributed Father.
Mr. Fawcett looked at him with a blank expression. Evidently, the gentleman understood very little Latin. Even Elizabeth knew that it meant ‘time flies’ and she was far from fluent, though Father had taught her some words and phrases.
“Oh, but you only just arrived, Mr. Fawcett. Please do stay. Have some more tea.” Mother went for the teapot, but Mr. Fawcett was already at the door bowing his leave.
“My good lady, I must not intrude. You are most kind and I bid you good day.” He scurried out of the room, the satin of his breeches making a swooshing sound in his haste.
Father hurried back to his study before Mother realized what had happened.
“Well, I daresay he shall call again tomorrow. How very polite of him to stay only a quarter of an hour. These high-born gentlemen do know how it is done best, I suppose.” Not certain of success, but refusing to believe his visit was anything other than advantageous to Jane, she retreated to her room to calm her nerves. It had been an eventful day and managing the incompetent servants— at least Mother called them so, though nobody else in the family thought them lacking— had quite worn her out.
With Mother upstairs, Elizabeth and Jane sought Father out in his study.
Rushing over to him, Elizabeth squeezed him gratefully between her arms. “Thank you, Father.” Letting him go with a kiss to his forehead, she removed the pile of books from the chair beside the desk, and sat down.
Looking gravely at his daughters, he said, “I helped you this time. By dinnertime your mother will be on to me, and I will not be able to interfere again. Next time, Janey, you will have to accept the attentions of whatever gentleman shows you favor. You too, my Lizzy.”
Full of confidence, Elizabeth went over her plan with Jane before dinner. Jane agreed that it was a very good
plan.
Thus it was at the dinner table, once everyone had filled their plates to satisfaction and taken their first few bites, that Elizabeth made her move.
"Father, Mother, I have been thinking a great deal lately and I believe I have come up with a plan to marry as efficiently and as advantageously as possible." She paused, looking between Mother and Father to read their reactions.
Mother immediately dropped her fork and sat back in her chair, all attention. Father picked up his glass and swirled the wine in it before taking a sip.
The only other person at the table to pay any heed was Jane who knew she was included in Elizabeth's plans.
"Well, go on." Mother laced her fingers together, then unlaced them to tap her fingers against the table cloth.
"I want to go to London with Jane."
Father pushed his fingertips together into a steeple which he pressed against his chin. "You do not mince words, Lizzy. Why this sudden interest in marriage? You have not given more than minimal consideration to the subject before this. Why now?"
"As you and Mother have made very clear, time is of the essence, and I do not wish to waste yours nor mine. My reasons for wishing to travel to London are that there will be more opportunities for us to grow in Society. There is no denying that we need to marry well, and I feel we have a better chance at this in town. We could stay with Uncle and Aunt Gardiner, thus causing no strain on our economy and little inconvenience to you."
Father looked at Jane, seated between himself and Elizabeth to his right. "Does Jane agree with this plan?"
"Of course. As the eldest females in the family, it has been made very clear to us the benefits of both of us marrying. Society in Hertfordshire is limited, at best. London has no such restraints, and I would be overjoyed to see my little cousins."
Mother shook her head from side to side; her lips pursed together; her eyebrows knit. It did not look promising.
"Absolutely not." She took a bite of her roast beef and chewed vigorously.
Elizabeth waited for an explanation, but none came as Mother continued eating.
"May I ask why?" Elizabeth looked not only to Mother but to Father for an explanation.
Father shrugged his shoulders and inclined his head toward Mother. "I should like to hear your reasons as well, dear. Why should we not send the girls to London? It seems to be a perfect plan."
Mother rolled her eyes and shook her head. To her it was so obvious, but Elizabeth had learned long ago that she could never predict the workings of her mother's mind.
"Mr. Bennet, I do not know why you should ask me when you were the one to tell me the news only this afternoon. A perfectly good gentleman is coming to live at Netherfield Park.” Addressing Elizabeth, she continued, “Why should you seek out a gentleman to marry in town when one is coming here?” She waved her empty fork in the air.
"Mother, how can we be sure that just one gentleman will fall in love with Lizzy or me? If you were to allow us to go to London, we would certainly have a larger selection of gentlemen with whom to associate." Elizabeth was proud of Jane for speaking up. She wondered why Father had said nothing to her. Did he, like Mother, hope for Jane to marry this gentleman?
Mother balked. "If Mr. Bingley— is that not a good, strong name? If Mr. Bingley takes up residence here, shortly his friends from town will come to visit him. Besides, you missed the London Season when all of the fashionable gentlemen are in town. Next week is September and all the gentlemen are away in their country estates hunting and riding. I see no reason why you should make the effort to leave home when a perfectly respectable gentleman and his friends are on their way here."
"All we know about this Mr. Bingley is his name. We do not know that he is respectable." Elizabeth did not think her mother would be swayed from her current line of reasoning, but it was worth a try. For all they knew, Mr. Bingley was a toad whom nobody in her right mind would want to marry.
"He is rich enough to let Netherfield Park, and have you seen how many servants he sent ahead of him? I have not seen them personally, but I have heard— which is practically the same thing. Surely he is a man of wealth, and he is single. What else is there?" Mother looked between her two eldest daughters as if she really wanted an answer.
Jane looked down at her hands. Elizabeth pursed her lips and tried to think of some way to reason with her unreasonable mother.
“You mark my words: gentlemen will be abundant at Netherfield Park in a month’s time. You and Jane shall be married before next spring if I have my way." Crossing her arms, Mother nodded decisively before drinking generously from her wine glass.
Father chuckled. "I have no doubt but that you will have success in your plans, dear. Lizzy, there is no sense prolonging this discussion any further. It is decided that you will stay here at Longbourn to meet this Mr. Bingley and his abundance of single, high-born, gentlemen friends."
"You forgot to mention wealthy." Elizabeth’s sarcasm was not lost on Father, who raised his glass to her and arched his brows in a salute.
"You must admit that it is to be preferred over marrying a poor man. You are fortunate to have a mother with such a talent for making a bank note stretch. We only want better for our girls, and I could not bear to part with you now."
Elizabeth bit her tongue and stabbed the peas on her plate with her fork.
Chapter 7
Darcy had sent his reply by messenger to Bingley and communicated his plans to his housekeeper. They would stay in Darcy House for one more month, and then they would leave for the country. Only, they would not be traveling so far north as Pemberley this time.
It was time to inform Georgiana of his decision. He suspected she would not welcome the change, but he felt no need to keep his decision a secret. It would be good for her to have some time in the country with friends.
He found her scratching away in the leather journal he had bought her in her room. He knocked on her open door. Her back was to him, but he saw her quickly pour sand on the page, not bothering to blow it away before she slammed the book shut and turned to face him.
"You need not concern yourself, Georgie. I cannot see what you have written from here."
She looked sheepish, but she did not say anything.
Pulling up a chair to sit beside her, Darcy asked, "Bingley invited us to his estate in Hertfordshire. What do you think about that?”
"Society is limited out in the country, and I would have nothing to do. How do you expect me to marry well if you limit my association?"
Darcy had not expected such an answer. Had she not said only the day before that she hated men? Georgiana's marriage was an event of the future— the distant future, if Darcy had his way— certainly not something she needed to concern herself with in the present.
Confused by the reasonings of a maturing girl, he tried to extract more information. “Do you think I expect you to marry so soon?”
“It would make things easier. Then you could stop worrying about me.” She crossed her arms and sat back, a look of defiance on her face.
“That is where you are wrong, my dear sister. You cannot escape problems with a marriage.” He sat forward, wanting Georgiana to hear him well.
“When you marry, I want it to be because you have found a man who cherishes you, a man who would spend every day finding new ways to please you. I want you to experience the kind of love that grows with each passing year. It was the kind of love our parents had, and I hope you do not settle for anything less.” Darcy had refused to settle for less, though the candidates for Mistress of Pemberley were never lacking.
“I just wish someone would value my opinions and ask for them before making decisions for me. I love you, William, but you treat me like a child. George… well, he led me to believe that I had a maturity and understanding I obviously do not. I love him still, and I hate myself for it.” Tears sprung up in her eyes, and her cheeks turned pink.
It had not even occurred to Darcy to ask Georgiana if she wanted to go to Hertfo
rdshire. Sure, he had asked her opinion of it. But he had not done so until after he had already decided and given instructions for their departure. He had been so confident that it was for the best, he had proceeded without any doubts.
“Forgive me if I am wrong, Georgie, but what you need is space. With time, your love for Wickham will fade, and you will see things clearly. For this reason, I have accepted Bingley’s invitation to spend the coming months at his estate in Hertfordshire.”
She bit her lips and shook her head. What had he said wrong?
Darcy stood and put the chair back into its place. If only he could make her understand he only wanted the best for her. She was worthy of so much more than George Wickham.
Feeling awkward, but not wanting to leave the room wishing he had said more, Darcy added, “I want you to find a gentleman who will not demand so much from you without giving anything in return. You deserve the kind of man who would make you strive to be a better woman, just as he would strive to be a better man just to impress you.”
“Is that what you seek? I have not known you to fall in love.”
Stubborn in her defiance, she challenged him. There was no other option but to speak simply and candidly.
“It is what I seek. It is why I have not married. It is also why I go to great lengths to prove myself a gentleman worth having should I be so fortunate as to meet my match. Until then, I can only speak from what I observed from our parents. To me, their relationship was worthy of imitation.”
“And you think you will find your match in Hertfordshire?” She sounded so much like Miss Bingley with her condescending manner, it would serve her right to be in said lady’s company for a time. She would soon tire of it.
“Perhaps. I think it is worth the trip there to find out.” In truth, that was not his purpose in going at all, but Georgiana would not accept that. He had made this decision for her benefit.
Georgiana gasped. “You mean we are to go? You have already decided?”
