by Nicky Roth
Darcy was almost done with the last epistle and ready to retreat to the library to read when there was a knock on the door of his study and yet another letter was delivered. It was from Bingley. With some trepidation, he broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
Dear friend,
again I have to apologise for my sister's inexcusable behaviour as well as for my own inattention in the matter. I only became aware of what she was about when the table was cleared and I saw you step into the room, but there can be little doubt that she has been behaving like this well before then. As it is, I have arranged for her to go and stay with our relatives in Scarborough and if it were up to me, her stay shall be of some duration. I think I finally can understand why you longed for some escape, especially seeing that your disposition is so very different from my own.
My main objective of this letter, however, is to invite you to dinner at my new estate. As far as I understand, you have not seen it yet though you have been living so close to Netherfield. If you could come by at the end of this week, I would be honoured to call you my guest, Darcy. Seeing that Hertfordshire is not too far from town I hope I do not ask too much.
Yours etc.
Charles Bingley
Darcy's heart did a little jump of joy at reading his friend's lines, for once perfectly discernible, and immediately he reached for his pen again.
Dear Bingley,
it is with great pleasure that I accept your invitation.
But it is I who has to apologise for no-one but I brought this upon all of us. Had I not gone off as I did and had thought before recommending Netherfield to you and what it would mean to both you and myself, none of this would have come to pass. It was careless of me, to say the least, and I am heartily sorry, dear friend.
Yours sincerely
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Calling for his footman he paid for an express and finally allowed himself to retreat into the library to read for an hour or two, Brutus at his feet. Well, that had been the initial idea, but in the end, his dog ended up next to him on the sofa, with his head in his master's lap to enjoy his ears being scratched, the floppy one and the one that stood almost upright.
Chapter 47
Many a trip continues long after movement in time and space have ceased.
- John Steinbeck
Friday came surprisingly fast, especially considering his impatience to return to Hertfordshire. Then again the time had simply flown by as he had been busy meeting with his cousin who had just returned from Kent and been looking for a suitable companion for his sister. Not that it was a bad thing that time had been flying. Quite the contrary since often-times impatience had a tendency to make hours appear like days and Darcy was quite impatient to return to Hertfordshire, the one place he had at last found his happiness.
In his few idle hours it indeed appeared as if the time would never pass. Yet, there was always hope that kept him going. Yes, hope was a good thing. With a little luck all would turn out well and he would be the happiest of men. Of course, it would also be somewhat awkward to return there as himself, but then again, what was there to fear? After all, he had made friends, as unlikely as one would think it would be that a man of his status could be friends with a bunch of servants. But it was the simple truth. Even though things had changed such that it would make it impossible that they should ever again speak so unrestricted to one another as they once had when he was but William Hawthorn the under-gardener, they still had been his fellows and always would be in a sense. He would be forever grateful to them for having shown him kindness and a sense of belonging, something that society had rarely ever done. Bingley was one of the rare exceptions. After all, what did it matter what status a person held in life? Was it not the character alone that truly mattered?
Looking at Miss Bingley, she was part of the London high society and yet was lacking in so many respects. The dinner at the Bennets had clearly shown that how she spoke about others when in his company, she did also when amongst those others, just swapping out people to belittle behind their backs, or even barely veiled to their faces if only she thought them inferior enough. In the end, it had been all but impossible to keep his tongue any longer and perhaps it was even for the better.
Fitzwilliam Darcy was up at first light before the first servants stirred. Yet, it was impossible to go back to sleep for another hour or so, even though his bed was decidedly more comfortable than the one in his little chamber back at Longbourn. More airy as well, naturally. Yes, he had a lot to be thankful for, but that did not mean that he had to like every single aspect of his life, did it? Already the invitations for various balls and dinners and balls came in again. How people had heard of his arrival in town so promptly would presumably stay a mystery. One of the many puzzles never to be solved.
Slipping into his morning gown, Darcy made his way down into the kitchen and stoked the fire before putting the kettle on and making himself a cup of tea. The water was just about to boil when a very surprised scullery maid stepped into the kitchen to take care of what her master had already taken care of himself.
'Oh! Good morning, Mr Darcy, I... - I'm mightily sorry, Sir,' the young lass stammered, giving an awkward curtsy.
'Good morning. And whatever are you sorry for? It is I who should be so after all this is your territory, is it not?' he replied smiling. 'But as it is, I was up early and in need of some tea and so I made myself some. Do not worry, you have done nothing wrong.'
Again the maid curtsied before taking the coal scuttle and bustling off seemingly unable to decide what to make out of her master making his own tea at the crack of dawn. It had seemed such a natural thing, that it only now dawned on him that it was not at all. Be that as it may, his tea was ready and resisting the temptation to take one of the large earthen mugs the servants used, Darcy poured it into the polished silver pot instead before putting it and a cup and saucer on a tray to carry everything back to his room.
Was it silly to miss the companionship he had had as William? Perhaps. And having his tea all by himself made him feel decidedly lonely. In fact, Darcy had not even realised how lonely he was on occasion until he had gone on his journey; and he often had been lonely even when he had been in society, thinking about it. But alas, for now, a cup of tea would have to suffice as a companion. - Oh, and Brutus, who presently scratched on the door of his dressing room. Half an hour later Darcy decided it was time to ring for his valet and get dressed. There was one more interview to be held and then he would be off.
Mrs Younge was a young widow who had applied for the position of Georgiana's companion, but had not made too much of an impression on him. There was something unsavoury about her that reminded him faintly of Caroline Bingley. Her false smile in particular. Three months ago, he would have likely hired her, seeing that she had impeccable references. However, her plastered on smile that was supposed to be pleasing had not once reached her eyes and where once Darcy had been used to it, now it made him wary. No, she was most certainly not a suitable paragon and friend for his sister. He would have to continue to look for someone kinder and more honest. Nothing less would satisfy him, nor his sister, as far as he was concerned. The one good thing about the interview was that it had been rather short and after taking an early lunch, Darcy could take off northwards once again.
At first, he had thought about riding Mr Bennet's horse himself, but had changed his mind and taken the chaise instead. He would have had to take it anyway to transport his luggage, though he was not sure of how long he would stay as yet. While he had to sort things out for Georgiana's arrival, it was impossible to be away for a long length of time and as much as he would have liked to stay in Hertfordshire for as long as he could, his sister's plight took precedence. Besides, his loyal friend looked more than just a little disappointed at his master leaving again so shortly after his arrival. Well, there was definitely enough space in the chaise for one more passenger...
'Come on, boy, get in!' Darcy ordered with a smile and hardly
believing his luck, Brutus jumped in as if half-expecting to be thrown out again.
'Yes, you're really coming with me. There are many new friends I would like you to meet. And I'm certain you'll like them just as much as I do. But you'll have to behave yourself, do you hear?'
Brutus gave a small huff, for want of a better word, before making himself comfortable at his master's feet where he promptly fell asleep. Well, as it was, Darcy's own eyes also drooped soon after and he dozed off, only waking up when the carriage stopped in front of a neat brick-built manor house with the typical façade of a building erected a few decades prior and the traditional formal gardens to go with it.
Though upon closer inspection, the lawn could do with a bit of raking, the moss definitely needed taking care of, and the low box hedges had obviously not been cut in a good while. Further still, the flower beds looked pretty empty, with only the occasional tulip peeking through the ivy that had taken hold and grew wildly. At least the gravel was neatly raked. Ah, and there was his friend, grinning broadly and looking mightily proud, and as far as Darcy could judge for good reason.
'Darcy, it is so good to see you. And do let me apologise again for my sister's abhorrent behaviour and my own failure to realise what she was doing,' Bingley came towards him with outstretched hands. 'I am quite ashamed of myself. But I dare say, your well-timed comment will do some good.'
'Well, it had never been my intention to embarrass her, Bingley, and I am heartily ashamed of myself likewise. I am truly very sorry.'
'Since that is then settled and we both appear equally shame-faced, what do you say to my new abode?' his friend cheerfully changed the subject.
'It seems perfectly suitable for a man in your position as I was certain it would be after hearing what I did about the place.'
'And very right you were, my friend. Very right you were. You would not know a good gardener around here?'
'I know a very good one, but he is unavailable I fear, working for one of your new neighbours and too happy with his position to leave it.'
'I heard he has a very good under-gardener,' Bingley teased. 'What about him?'
'Left in dishonour after causing a minor scandal,' Darcy replied dryly making Bingley laugh.
'Ah well, too bad. But I will find someone sooner or later, I am sure, and now, let me show you to your room. I could, of course, call Dawson, but I have to admit that I am a bit nervous about tonight...'
'Why are you nervous? It is not as if we have never dined together before, and I have to say, I have lately acquired quite some taste for the simpler dishes.'
'Yes, it is just that...'
'Just what?'
'Well, I have invited other guests as well.'
Oh? That Darcy had not expected, though perhaps he should have and he had an inkling who those guests might be to make his friend so nervous. All of a sudden he was, too.
Chapter 48
Happiness cannot be travelled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude.
- Denis Waitley
The end of the week came surprisingly quickly but that was presumably because Elizabeth looked so little forward to the dinner at Netherfield to which they had been invited. And was it not always that the things one did not look forward to always arrived with abominable speed while the things one did look forward to, seemed forever away?
The only good thing as far as she was concerned was, that Jane would meet again with Mr Bingley and with that, her sister's joy was what she herself would have to be content with. At least his harpy of a sister would not be there. Another good thing.
With their mother fussing over Jane's attire and hair, as always, Elizabeth sat in her room together with Mary getting ready likewise. It was a novel experience to not have her sister complain about having curls and wearing a flattering colour, but one that was quite nice. Who would have thought that a little attention would get Mary so far as to cheer up a bit and hide a little less behind her books? Jane and she should have thought about it a lot sooner.
But alas, what was done was done and could hardly be changed and at any rate, now Mary smiled at her in the mirror as she was braiding Elizabeth's hair with nimble fingers, before pinning the neat braid up into an intricate bun, only leaving a few curls at the front to frame her face quite pleasantly. Not that there was much need to look pretty. Not in Elizabeth's opinion anyway.
While her disposition was not made for sadness, she had been unable to not feel cast down these last couple of days. Little Prickler seemed to be in the same state of mind for every time she had come across the now actually pretty chubby hedgehog, he had looked at her with some kind of expectation, as if she could conjure up his friend out of thin air.
'What is wrong, Lizzy?' Mary, at last, inquired at seeing Elizabeth's thoughtful frown. 'Would you rather I put up your hair in a different manner?'
'Oh, no. No, it is not that. I was thinking about something else altogether.'
'Of course you did,' Mary smiled and again managed to look rather pretty.
Especially with her still loose hair falling around her face in soft curls and her new gown bringing a bit of colour to her pale cheeks.
'You know, I should scold you for being a silly goose,' Mary continued, 'but I just do not have the heart for it. I actually feel rather sorry for you, but one can never know what the future might bring. After all, God moves in mysterious ways.'
'And you speak in riddles, Mary.'
'Oh, I am very sure you know exactly what I am talking about. Do you think me blind? I should not condone you falling in love with a gardener, no matter how handsome and kind and even though he turned out to be a gentleman in the end. But you could have hardly known as much, could you?'
'I actually did for quite some weeks.'
'Then I should scold you even more for not saying anything. But again...' her sister shrugged, pushing in one last pin to make certain Elizabeth's thick hair would not come loose again out of its own accord.
While having mellowed down a bit since their last ball, Mary was still a mystery to her. She either preached or spoke in riddles, there was hardly an in-between. Sometimes it felt as if she did not know her next younger sister at all. Well, as it was lately Elizabeth felt as if she did not even know herself at all. Who was that young woman with those dark eyes and hair staring back at her in the mirror? A very silly one, that much was certain.
But as it was, she looked well. Mary had done a fantastic job with her hair. Who would have thought? Then again, with her nimble fingers adept to manage even the most delicate embroidery perhaps that was not all that much surprising after all. Again, Elizabeth wondered how it was that she knew so little of her sister. A person she had seen almost every day, ever since Mary had been born. There had been times when they had played quite well together as children, but when that had stopped, she could not say. It had happened so gradually that it was impossible to pinpoint the exact moment that she had lost sight of Mary.
'Lizzy?' Mary asked with a small frown. 'Are you certain you are quite alright?'
'Yes, I just have to say, that I am not much looking forward to this evening, that is all,' Elizabeth finally confided.
Not that it was much of a confession.
'Neither do I, but you know, with something like this it is better to confront oneself instead of hiding away. It will make a meeting later on the more awkward the more time passes.'
While this assessment, in regards to their own dinner and what had come to pass then, was most certainly an accurate one, that was not the very reason she did not want to follow Mr Bingley's invitation. But Mary need not know that. Instead, Elizabeth got up from her chair and beckoned her sister to sit to have her hair done in turn.
Where before Mary had always protested to be done up nicely, it appeared that she had come to enjoy looking her best and seeing Mary's slight smile she wondered if, perhaps there was more to it than just having realised how
well it made her look. Thinking back to the ball, Mary, for once in her life had been dancing, and she had danced surprisingly well considering that before she had mainly merely watched. There had been Mr Bingley, all politeness and eager to dance with all her sisters, Frank Lucas, and St Crispin's new curate. - A Mr Ryan, who had been sent to help old Mr Mansfield, long-suffering from gout, with his parish. He was a rather plain man but he had wit, a pleasant smile, and preached a good sermon by the account of their aunt Mrs Philips. Was it possible that...?
Chapter 49
My dad used to say, 'Just because you dress up in a coat and tie, it doesn't influence your intelligence.'
- Tiger Woods
They arrived at Netherfield a little early and just in time to see a very grand carriage round the corner towards the stables. It was an easy assumption to make that in order to have a proper hostess, Mr Bingley had asked his other, recently married sister to do the honours at the table. All Elizabeth could hope for was, that she was not in any shape or form like her sister. Though on the other hand, that probably would prove quite difficult. That Mr Bingley could be such an amiable man while having such a harpy for a sister was surprising enough, but to have two such sisters would be unlikely, would it not? In the very least she must be somewhere in between and that would do already.
