First Impressions: A Tale of Less Pride & Prejudice (Tales of Less Pride and Prejudice)

by Adams, Alexa

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  Kitty and Lydia, having been employed as lookouts, resoundingly sounded the alarm at first sight of the carriage. The family assembled in the sitting room, perfectly primped and equipped with the items they had predetermined to pursue. Mr. Bennet had gone so far as to choose several books to move from his library to the parlor, where he never read, so he could be seen to be doing so amongst his family. He smiled at the ladies as they diligently pursued their work. If they were always so intently distracted as they now appeared, perhaps the room would be a pleasant place to indulge his favorite hobby. Mrs. Hill, wearing her best apron, announced Lady Catherine de Bourgh with as much flourish as she could muster, fully relishing the honor of such a fine guest. Lady Catherine, as always, approved of such deference to her consequence and entered the room with a mind to be pleased.

  Mr. Darcy began the introductions. Mrs. Bennet, even more flattered than Hill to be receiving a guest of such high importance, was perfect in her politeness. Lady Catherine, in turn, perceived the sardonic twinkle in Mr. Bennet’s eye and instantly deemed him the model country squire, in the happy state of needing improvement and able to greatly benefit from her advice. A beaming Mr. Bingley proudly presented Jane, whose serene beauty and calm manner always pleased everyone.

  “And this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Aunt.” Darcy continued, “Miss Elizabeth, it is my pleasure to present my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

  “Welcome to Longbourn, your Ladyship. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”

  Lady Catherine surveyed the young woman in front of her, head held high, eyes bright and sparkling (much like her father’s), and found herself intrigued by the odd little woman. Pretty, in a way, but certainly not a remarkable beauty, nothing compared to her sister. “Miss Elizabeth, I have been most interested in meeting you. My nephew informs me that congratulations are in order.”

  “Yes indeed, ma’am. Please allow me to assure you that I never dreamed to be so fortunate as to gain the affections of such an honorable man as Mr. Darcy.”

  She watched as Elizabeth’s eyes met Darcy’s and was astonished at the sight of her severe nephew’s grin. “He is entranced,” she thought, continuing to observe the couple, “but this Miss Elizabeth is no coquette. Very well, let it be a love match. He could certainly have done worse. By the looks of that Miss Bingley, she would have liked to have gotten her claws into him. Imagine, a creature like that! Oh no. Miss Elizabeth Bennet so be it.”

  “May I present my sister, Mary Bennet.”

  Both girls were dark, in contrast to the eldest, but Lady Catherine would never have guessed these two to be sisters. As forward and joyful as Elizabeth was, Mary seemed equally demure and reserved, though not shy. She curtsied and waited very properly for Lady Catherine’s notice, a noticeable tilt of determination in her upturned chin. “Then again,” wondered Lady Catherine, “maybe there is more to the future Mrs. Collins.”

  “Miss Mary Bennet, Mr. Collins has told me much about you. I suggested he choose a wife amongst his cousins at Longbourn and I am pleased he has heeded my advice.”

  “Thank you, Lady Catherine. I am honored by your interest and, as you well know, Mr. Collins treasures all your suggestions.”

  “Indeed he does child! He will be pleased you remembered to remind me,” Lady Catherine acknowledged with the barest hint of an amused smile. To herself she said, “Yes, Miss Mary has her wits about her. Very good. Perhaps she will make something out of that goose Collins.”

  Kitty and Lydia were presented in turn but remained so very quiet and demur, awed as even the latter was by the quality of Lady Catherine’s gown, that her ladyship happily assumed they were not yet out, a misconception no one bothered to correct.

  “You say you are fortunate to have gained my nephew’s affections, Miss Elizabeth, but I wonder if you fully appreciate the illustrious line into which you intend to marry. Fitzwilliam Darcy is the living embodiment of two noble houses; the lady who shall bear his name must be worthy of such an honor.”

  Elizabeth raised a brow, shared a glance with Darcy, and smiled becomingly at Lady Catherine in response, deciding she had best not share her present thoughts.

  “Your estate, Mr. Bennet, is pleasant, though this sitting room must be uncomfortable in the summer. Have you ever considered improvements?”

  “Not since I married Mrs. Bennet.”

  “That is as it should be. My late husband, Sir Louis de Bourgh, did his improvements as a young man upon inheritance. Of course it was necessary for more modern comforts to be installed after his death. Mr. Collins will be next to improve Longbourn. I shall have many thoughts for him on the subject.”

  Mrs. Bennet moved to speak but a warning look from her husband belayed any desire she had to share her indignation at such a notion.

  Though the meeting proved a rather mundane affair, it really could not have gone better from the perspectives of the parties involved. Almost everyone behaved unexceptionally; in regards to Lady Catherine, it can be acknowledged that her manners were predictable throughout. Eventually that lady settled the majority of her attention upon Mary, whom she was delighted to confirm played and sang as there was nothing else she liked to recommend more to young ladies than to practice their music. She would have the further felicity of offering Mary the use of one of the pianoforte’s at Rosings: the one in the drawing room, it not being feasible to relegate Mrs. Darcy’s sister to Mrs. Jenkinson’s quarters. Having never heard the lady sing, she knew not what such condescension would cost her.

  Mary consistently responded to Lady Catherine’s inquiries with proper servility and was deemed to be a practical woman of good sense, exactly what Mr. Collins required in a wife. As she posed question after question, Lady Catherine kept an eye on her nephew and his lady. There was an undeniable bond between the two – never had she seen Darcy so content, not since he was a little boy. She had no objections, only blessings to bestow.

  On the carriage ride back to Netherfield, Lady Catherine announced that she would depart first thing the very next morning, “I shall stop in London for a few more days. There is much shopping to do if Anne and I are to travel to Derbyshire in January for your wedding.”

  Darcy beamed, “I am so glad you will be joining us.”

  “We shall be spending Christmas with my brother and journey to Pemberley from there, making the trip a bit less burdensome. But I will speak my mind Darcy – a wedding in Derbyshire in the middle of winter is a most inconvenient thing! If I had any idea that you would heed me, I should insist that you wait until the season and marry in London, then Miss Elizabeth might be properly presented, but you are transparently too much in love to wait. And as I intend to persuade the entire family to attend this event, you incommode not only myself and your cousin Anne, who really is not fit for travel in such weather, but all of your relations! Be sure and give Mrs. Reynolds plenty of notice. Pemberley has not been so lively in years!”

  “It will be truly wonderful, Aunt.”

  Chapter 22

  Lady Catherine punctually departed Netherfield Hall following an early breakfast. Darcy and Bingley, the only members of the household awake to see her off, looked forward to some leisure time before again repairing to Longbourn for a family dinner, this time in the company of the entire Netherfield party and the Bennet’s local relations, Mr. and Mrs. Phillips. As can be expected, Darcy lamented the anticipated awkwardness of such a gathering while Bingley laughed off his concern, perfectly certain that all would be amiable.

  “You worry far too much. If the Bennets weathered your aunt’s austere presence, surely they will perform admirably this evening. Caroline has been most accommodating of late; certainly, she will be all civility. What have you to fear?”

  “Nothing distinct, Bingley. Perhaps my aunt’s visit went too smoothly for my comfort. The Phillips are a crude couple; I am assured some discomfort in my interactions with them. You have seen Mr. Phillips in his cups so I need not tell you what is a sorry sight
it is. But if Elizabeth can tolerate inquisition from my Aunt, surely I can bear to behold her uncle’s complexion.”

  “Elizabeth is it now?” Bingley laughed as his friend flushed, “Shall we try the sport then?”

  “Yes, perhaps we had better. I shall be ready in ten minutes.”

  Darcy was kept waiting in the hall for Bingley for some time before he finally appeared. Just as they were heading out to the stables, they heard Mrs. Hurst calling from the stairs for her brother to wait. She descended shakily and approached the men with a somber mien, a letter clutched in one outstretched hand.

  Mr. Bingley, not always as quick to assess a situation as he should have been, greeted his sister casually, “Good morning Louisa. Late start for you, is it not?”

  Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, immediately noticed that Mrs. Hurst was in some degree of distress and silently ushered his companions inside the nearest parlor, moving to shut the door behind the them and provide the siblings with the privacy required.

  “Please stay Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Hurst said before he could complete the action, “It is imperative that I speak with both you and my brother.” He closed the door behind him but did not proceed farther into the room. Though not knowing what was to come, he was certain his presence was awkward.

  Mrs. Hurst turned to Mr. Bingley, “Something dreadful has happened Charles. I know not where to begin!” She sank into the nearest chair and held a handkerchief to her eyes.

  Now fully cognizant, Bingley knelt by her side, “Whatever is the matter, my dear sister?”

  Darcy stood uncomfortably by while Bingley comforted Louisa and she composed herself. Finally she was able to speak the words needed. As quickly as she could, as if the merest pause would render her mute, she blurted out: “Caroline has disappeared. She has eloped – with Mr. Wickham!”

  Bingley started, Darcy paled, and Louisa burst into tears. Again she held forward the letter, still grasped tightly in her hand. Bingley gently took it from her. He walked towards Darcy and read aloud, in a hushed voice:

  My dear sister,

  I shudder to think of your reaction when you read this, as I can only imagine that you will severely disapprove. For this reason alone I have been forced to be secretive, though my heart has burned to confide in you as of old. Now the deed is done and you shall have no choice but to rejoice in my good fortune.

  I depart for Scotland with the man of my dreams, he who is all a man should be. No – he is more than that, far better a man than I ever dared to aspire. What care I for his lack of fortune when I know him to be as gently bred as the very best of our acquaintance? We shall be married forthwith and when next you see me I shall be Mrs. George Wickham. We shall not honeymoon but return to Netherfield as soon as is reasonably possible. I trust Charles will welcome us.

  Your loving sister,

  Caroline Bingley

  “My God! What has she done?” Mr. Bingley exclaimed as he sank into a chair, overcome by the multitude of potential repercussions for such a hasty action on the part of his sister.

  “She has provided Wickham with the fortune he always wanted,” Darcy replied quietly.

  “Do we go after them?”

  “She is of age. Her reputation will fare better if they are allowed to proceed uninhibited.”

  “But what will become of her?” sobbed Louisa. Charles gathered his wits and returned to her side, placing a comforting arm around his eldest sister.

  “I shall always receive her, you know that.” He looked up at his friend, “He shall be my brother. I cannot let my family become estranged.”

  Darcy nodded at Bingley in acceptance, made a very correct bow, swiftly exited the room, and walked directly from the house.

  He did not spare a thought for what he did or where he went. All he knew was that he needed to be alone – needed time to process this latest development. George Wickham, the man he loathed above any other, was to be his best friend’s brother. Worse than that, after marrying Elizabeth, he would be his brother as well, nearly brother to Georgiana too! How was such a thing to be borne?

  Darcy’s thoughts raced so quickly that, in what seemed like no time at all, he was entering the village of Meryton, happily engaged in its daily rounds of commerce and gossip. Hastily he turned away from the market town and proceeded down the road to Longbourn.

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  Elizabeth had left early that morning to visit Lucas Lodge in hopes of finding herself alone with Charlotte. Upon arising she had experienced renewed anxiety regarding Lady Catherine’s visit, which she had been convinced had gone splendidly the evening before, and only a long talk with her insightful friend would restore her composure. Unfortunately, she found all the family together and was forced to accept their thorough congratulations. Charlotte, perceiving her friend wanted to speak with her, suggested accompanying Elizabeth back to Longbourn under the guise of offering assistance to Mrs. Bennet in her many wedding preparations. They departed together but had only progressed a few steps from the gate when Charlotte, looking behind her, perceived a man walking at a fierce speed towards them.

  “Why, surely that is Mr. Darcy hurtling towards us!” she exclaimed.

  Elizabeth spun around with an enormous smile that quickly fell when she perceived the disquiet in the approaching form. He only noticed the ladies, having been staring down at the road, when he was nearly upon them and visibly startled by their presence.

  “Miss Bennet! Miss Lucas! Please excuse me!”

  “Is something wrong Mr. Darcy?” asked Elizabeth with concern, sure her unease had been a premonition of the worst. Had Lady Catherine and her nephew had a falling out because of his engagement? She didn’t know if she could bare the guilt of causing a rift in his family and wondered, in fright, “Is he really willing to tolerate one for my sake?”

  “Yes. I am afraid there is,” replied Mr. Darcy. Struggling to regain his composure, he began pacing two and fro on the spot. Charlotte looked towards her friend to see if she should return home but a subtle gesture bade her to remain. Elizabeth guessed he had more to say and allowed herself to hope it was not what she feared. She knew by now not to try to predict what such behavior on his part indicated. Such endeavors had only caused her needless pain in the past, once when he first declared his affections and again when he proposed. Both ladies waited for Mr. Darcy to provide an explanation.

  Eventually recalling himself, Mr. Darcy looked to his patient audience, “You must excuse my discomfiture ladies. Please allow me to bid you both a good morning and express my hope it finds you well.”

  Both women felt some impatience with his formal pleasantries when something was clearly disturbing him but automatically responded in kind. Reassured by the familiar comfort of the proprieties, he then felt it acceptable to continue, “I have just heard the most inexplicable news. You both know of my efforts to warn the neighborhood of the danger posed by Mr. Wickham’s presence, yet it seems I was negligent in protecting the very roof under which I reside. Miss Bingley has most unaccountably eloped with the rascal!”

  The ladies’ mouths fell agape in a most unbecoming fashion. Fortunately, Mr. Darcy was far too perturbed to notice.

  “I cannot understand what possessed her to do such a thing. If nothing else can be said of Caroline Bingley, she has always been status conscious. And now she has put me in the untenable position of marrying the greatest scoundrel it has been my misfortune to know into my very own family!”

  Elizabeth’s face betrayed an insuppressible grin which lit her countenance to great advantage, catching the attention of her agitated gentleman.

  “Is there something in this to amuse you madame?” he asked in exasperation.

  “Yes indeed, Mr. Darcy, there is,” Elizabeth giggled. He frowned and she hurried to elaborate. “Based on the mad manner in which you are behaving, I feared your aunt had certainly declared herself decidedly against our marriage and had ordered you to bring a halt to the proceedings immediately! Yet instead of such horrible tidings, I
receive the pleasure of your referring to our not yet mutual relations as your family.” Again she laughed, “Never before have I felt more assured of your devotion, sir! If the idea of Wickham as a relation has not caused you to flea Hertfordshire, Lady Catherine’s mere disapproval can prove no obstacle to our happiness.”

  Darcy paused in his paces before breaking into a tentative smile. Elizabeth always rendered his worries trivial. He should remember in the future not to trouble her with such brooding antics as he had been accustomed to indulge. “Lady Catherine departed Netherfield this morning with every intention of being a wedding guest at Pemberley.” They beamed at each other in mutual congratulations for their triumph, but Darcy could not forget Wickham.