by A K Madison
“He is absolutely right, Mr. Darcy.”
“I should like to suggest that I bring him to wait upon you tomorrow morning. That will spare you from any necessity for being out in the cold and the mud, Mrs. Bennet.”
“Breakfast is at nine. I shall be ready to receive you at any time after ten o’clock.”
As they continued their meal, Jane addressed her mother. “Mama, I have been treasure-hunting in the attics. And I have unearthed some treasures which I think you should see for yourself. It seems that most of the entire contents of Rose Cottage was carefully wrapped, packed, and stored here at some point. I have found fine china and crystal, silver and plate, and beautiful furniture, all marked ‘Rose Cottage.’ Would you like to look at them after dinner?”
“Certainly, dearest Jane. It will be interesting to see what you have discovered.”
“Do you know anything about who might have lived in the cottage, Mama?”
“No, dear. An elderly gentleman lived here with his wife. They were not titled, though they certainly were wealthy, and Netherfield was a prosperous estate when I was a girl.”
When dinner was ended, Jane took her mother and Elizabeth to the attics. Mrs. Bennet had a good look around, and when they returned to the rest of the party, she said, “While it is not brand-new, I must say, it is of the first quality. That makes it timeless.” She sipped her tea thoughtfully. “It certainly is finer than most of what we have at Longbourn.”
Elizabeth, Jane, and Mary exchanged glances. Mrs. Bennet was known for her attraction to glitter and fashion, and they had not expected her to recognize the quality of the Rose Cottage pieces.
“Are you not thinking of selling it, dear Charles?”
“Oh, no, Mrs. Bennet! I sincerely doubt it would be worth the trouble of selling it in London. It is yours if you wish to have it.”
“Then I say yes. Rose Cottage will be a little jewel.” Mrs. Bennet fanned herself with her handkerchief. “We can worry about the rest of the furniture later.”
When Darcy sought his bed later that night, he removed the farthing from his pocket and placed it carefully in the small leather box where he kept his watch and chain, the timepiece he had inherited from his own father. It was the only jewelry he wore aside from the signet ring he had also inherited. He stared out of the window with unseeing eyes. She had seemed glad to see him after church. Her smile had seemed gracious, her eyes had sparkled. He recalled the sweetness of her voice blending softly with his own during the hymns and psalms. Few things gave him greater pleasure than hearing her sing. Darcy struck the windowsill with his fist. He would not give up. It was not yet time to give up.
Elizabeth, for her part, bundled a warm shawl over her dressing-gown and sat in her window-seat, knees drawn up to her chin. He had smiled at her so agreeably—not once, but several times. She recalled catching sight of the dimple which she had never really seen before. It made her want to make him smile again, although she thought his smiles were probably rare. She had always loved being in company. But perhaps he was shy. Could such a condition afflict a man of such wealth and power? He had mentioned something of the sort one evening at Rosings. Was her memory accurate? She turned the idea over and over in her mind but could reach no satisfactory conclusion.
Chapter 10
“You certainly have a fine morning for your walk, Lizzy. Enjoy it.” Mary and Elizabeth found each other in the kitchen Monday morning when Elizabeth went down to choose an apple for Darcy’s horse. There had indeed been a great change in the weather, with blue skies and a slight breeze that seemed almost balmy.
Elizabeth went out the kitchen door with a wave to Mary and Cook. She encountered Darcy and Sirdar in the same place on the lane where she had met them the previous week. Darcy had dismounted and seemed to be waiting for her. He bowed gravely. “Good morning, Miss Bennet. I thought we might encounter you this morning.”
Elizabeth curtsied and smiled. “And so, you have. Good morning, Mr. Darcy.” She looked at the horse, who seemed to be nodding at her. He had lowered his head, and he nudged her hand gently with his nose.
“If I might interpret, Sirdar is asking you, in the language of his people, if you would do him the honor of scratching his head, just here between his ears. I assure you he will be much indebted to you.” He demonstrated.
Elizabeth smiled. “Of course.” She reached out, still fearless, and rubbed the horse’s glossy head, first gently, then more firmly. She was rewarded with a contented whuff! and another nudge. “I am forgetting, dear sir, that I have brought you a treat this morning.” She took out the apple and offered it. The well-mannered horse took it gently and consumed it with enjoyment.
“He thanks you kindly,” said Darcy. She looked up at him to see that his smile had returned, once more revealing that engaging dimple. “I must say that nearly all the ladies of my acquaintance are a little afraid of him. He is large, but there is no malice at all in his nature.”
Elizabeth smiled back. “He is a gentle giant. He has obviously been brought up with kindness.”
“Do you enjoy riding, Miss Bennet?”
“When I get the chance, which is not often. Our sweet old mare should probably be given a pension and a nice home in a nearby pasture. She is tired. But when I can find a more spirited horse, I do enjoy the exercise.”
“As do I.” They had reached the turnoff to Meryton. “I must leave you here, Miss Bennet. I have urgent business in Meryton. Will you continue your walk, or may I see you home?”
“Oh, no thank you! I will walk for a while longer this way before turning around. It is quite safe, I assure you.”
Darcy bowed, and she saw that his customarily grave expression had returned. “I will bring Hobbs to wait upon your mother at eleven this morning.”
“Until then, Mr. Darcy.” She curtsied, thinking as she did so that perhaps his eyes were somewhat softened from their usual dark disapproval. As she walked on, Sirdar’s hoofbeats faded in the distance. She walked for another mile or so, then turned for home, wondering what the breakfast hour would bring from Lydia and Kitty. Would it be squabbles or cooperation?
Breakfast was blessedly peaceful, and Elizabeth had the additional pleasure of looking forward to a quiet morning. Lydia and Kitty were full of plans for a morning-visit to Maria Lucas followed by luncheon with Aunt Philips. Mary promised to bring home any news of Charlotte from Lady Lucas.
Mrs. Bennet was looking forward to meeting with Hobbs. “It is not every day one gets to consult with a head gardener associated with such a large, illustrious estate. Even though he is only the head gardener at the house in town, I feel there is much I can learn from him.”
Elizabeth smiled at her mother. “Mama! I have lived with you for my whole life, and I am just now realizing that you are happiest when you have a gardening project!”
“Oh, child,” said her mother with a touch of her old impatience. “Of course, I am. It is simply not a ladylike avocation! What sort of lady passes her time in the mud and dirt, destroying her complexion and breaking her nails?” She regarded her hands, which were soft and delicate. “All a lady can do is plan and direct. But if I were forced to be truthful, I would say that one of my chief enjoyments is coaxing things to grow out of the dirt.”
“Well, Rose Cottage should provide you with plenty of scope for your interests,” replied Elizabeth. “Where are you going to receive Mr. Darcy and Hobbs?”
“I shall receive them in the back parlor. We can sit at the round table in there, and I will be comfortable.”
The family rose from the dining-table, and Lydia, Mary, and Kitty went upstairs to get ready for their outing. As they came downstairs, carriage-wheels rumbled on the drive, signaling the arrival of their visitors. Mr. Darcy bowed to Mrs. and Miss Bennet and begged leave to introduce Mr. Hobbs, head gardener at Darcy House for many years, but formerly of Pemberley. Hobbs greeted the ladies with the perfect combination of ease and deference shown by the best and oldest family retainers.
> “I thought we might gather in the back parlor, Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Bennet indicated the way. “There is a large table back here where we may sit comfortably. I see you have brought many drawings.”
Darcy smiled agreeably at her mother as he pulled out chairs first for her, then for Elizabeth. “Yes, Madam. I know little of roses, but Hobbs is a master gardener. I am not certain the London house provides adequate scope for his many talents. Furthermore, he is anxious to realize an ideal cottage-garden. Cottage-gardens at Pemberley are generally practical spaces involving vegetables and chickens. Hobbs has a different vision for Rose Cottage, and I will leave him to explain it to you.”
Elizabeth had pulled out her notebook, but she had little to write down. Mrs. Bennet and Hobbs were soon immersed in his plans and drawings. While Mrs. Bennet had a few pointed questions and suggestions, she was generally delighted, exclaiming over each new rendering. Elizabeth stole a look at Darcy over their heads, found he was looking back at her, and ventured a smile, which he returned.
Finally, Mrs. Bennet sat back. “And will you be able to spare Mr. Hobbs from his duties in London, Mr. Darcy?”
“I see no reason why not, Mrs. Bennet. The staff there have their orders, and the second gardener is certainly capable of seeing to the regular spring activities. We have no plans for any expansion or for any delicate, new plantings, have we, Hobbs?”
“No, sir. The garden in Town is in capable hands. However, this brings us to an important question.” He turned to Mrs. Bennet. “Meryton lies but thirty miles north of London. We will begin pruning the roses there this week. Am I right in believing your gardeners here will be doing the same?”
“Yes,” she replied. “It is just about time, and we do not do it soon, we shall be forced to wait.”
“Very good, madam. We will begin the pruning tomorrow, and with Mr. Darcy’s permission, I will send word when we are finished so that you may come and inspect the work.”
“Certainly, Hobbs. Will you finish your list of materials today?”
“Yes, sir. Now that I understand Mrs. Bennet’s wishes, we can begin the work immediately.”
The group stood. Elizabeth was surprised to realize that the discussion had been going on for more than an hour, almost an hour and a half. As the two men took their leave, she realized that while she had not taken any notes, she had netted several beautiful smiles from Mr. Darcy and very few grim looks at all. She decided to go to her room and sit in her window seat, her favorite thinking spot indoors, to puzzle over this question.
As Darcy and Hobbs turned toward Netherfield, Darcy said, “You should be back in time for your dinner, Hobbs. What are your plans for the afternoon?”
“Well, sir, I will have more than enough time to finish my list of materials so that you may review it. It can then be sent to Murchison in London. And tomorrow, we will get started on the actual labor. If I may say so, sir, Mrs. Bennet knows what she is about. Her judgments on the garden may be trusted.”
Darcy regarded him with poorly concealed astonishment but said nothing. He had difficulty perceiving the lady as competent in anything.
The Netherfield party found much to discuss at dinner that evening. Neatly organized lists of materials and supplies had been dispatched by express to London. The first shipments were expected within the week. The chimneys had been inspected and cleaned by the local chimney man, who was not usually busy at this time of year. He pronounced them to be sound, requiring new chimney pots and flashings which would be added when the roof was put on.
Hobbs had completed his list of materials, and it had been sent along to London with the other lists. He and the assistant were prepared to begin the exacting work of pruning the next morning, and it would take most of the remainder of the week.
As the meal continued, Darcy turned to Bingley with a question. “What is planned in the way of staff at the Cottage?”
“As far as I know, they will have Mr. and Mrs. Hill, Cook, Susan as maid, and a scullery-maid. The ladies will assist one another, so there will not be a ladies’ maid. They will not keep a stable, and once the garden is complete, it will be maintained by my gardeners.” Bingley put down his fork. “Their uncles and I have undertaken to defray the cost of the servants among ourselves. None of us is happy with the thought that they might not be comfortable.”
Jane added softly, “You are a good man, Charles Bingley.”
Darcy cleared his throat. “I see. We will need to arrange for Mrs. Hill and Cook to come and inspect the kitchen. It is in very poor repair and is probably the worst room in the house. We will wish to acquire a modern stove, install cupboards and tables, and do whatever else is necessary to restore it to a useful state. My only other concern is that mice and other vermin have infested the kitchen. They need to be got rid of before we bring someone in to clean it thoroughly.
Jane laughed. “You need to recruit a good mouser or two, Mr. Darcy. I shall make some discreet inquiries, and I shall also ensure that a goodly supply of delicious cream is provided.”
Chapter 11
Darcy was an ever-interested observer of the organized chaos at Rose Cottage as materials and workmen began to take over the house and garden. He knew that the chaotic scene was, in fact, meticulously organized and closely managed by his two lead men. He resisted the temptation to swing a hammer or pick up a saw, realizing that he would be in the way. Nevertheless, the work pleased him, and he was pleased to have a part to play in it.
Hobbs and Moore had set up a large deal table and two chairs in the front parlor near a window, and they began to spend more and more time at their joint desk checking off materials and supplies on their long lists. Skilled roofers arrived from London on Wednesday, and by afternoon, the area rang with mens’ shouts, the blows of hammers, and occasional cries of warning when a slate skittered down the steep pitch and fell to the ground. Meanwhile, Hobbs and his assistant spent hours carefully evaluating each rose bush, choosing the most vigorous shoots, and pruning with care and precision.
Darcy continued to ride out each morning on Sirdar, and he was rewarded with Elizabeth Bennet’s company about half the time. He would dismount, and they would stand and talk for a few minutes, often discussing progress at the cottage. Her manners pleased him enormously. Although she was still of a teasing disposition, her speech with him had lost some of the sharpness that had marked it the previous fall and during the visit to Rosings. He perceived the teasing as pleasant, and while he was sometimes slow to respond, she seemed to appreciate his efforts.
He met Elizabeth on Thursday morning, and after the usual pleasantries and the delivery of Sirdar’s morning treat, they discussed plans that evening for a family dinner to be given by the ladies at Longbourn. “I shall give everyone a full report on the work at the cottage,” said Darcy. “It has begun in earnest. I believe your mother will be particularly pleased with the news about the roses.”
“I have never seen her throw herself into a project as she has for those roses. I am immeasurably grateful to you, for it keeps her out of trouble. Now, if I could only find something of similar interest to Kitty and Lydia. Something that does not involve dancing and officers.” Her dimple appeared.
“I cannot help you there, Miss Bennet.” Darcy returned her smile. “But if anything occurs to me, I shall inform you immediately.”
With another shared smile, they parted, and Darcy rode into Meryton to retrieve and pay for the project he had requested the jeweler to execute. The farthing, Elizabeth Bennet’s payment for the silver knife, had been neatly drilled, and a gold ring had been inserted through it. The jeweler secured it to Darcy’s gold watch chain. Since he did not affect the common fashion of wearing many fobs, he would see and handle it whenever he pulled out his watch. If the jeweler thought this was an unusual ornament for a gentleman of Darcy’s standing, he did not say so, and Darcy would not have cared in any case.
At dinner that evening, talk centered around the progress at Rose Cottage. “Mama has given me a li
st of the plants she hopes to bring from Longbourn, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth.
“Oh yes, it is quite detailed,” added her mother. “I have asked Lizzy to note beside each plant whether it will be seeds, or a cutting, or whatever else it might be. She will give it to you after dinner, sir, and I would be grateful if you would pass it along to Mr. Hobbs.”
When tea was brought in, Elizabeth poured. Although he did not quite smile, when Darcy came to get his cup, she noticed that his handsome features had relaxed and lost their disapproving air. “Tell me, Miss Bennet. Do you plan to walk out tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, I do, Mr. Darcy. Unless the weather turns dreadful, I will be out and about at my usual unfashionable hour.”
“Perhaps Sirdar and I will see you. He looks for you, you know. If he does not see you, he signals his annoyance.”
Elizabeth gave him one of her melting smiles. “Please tell him, in the language of his people, that I regard him as a good friend. I will be certain I have an apple for him tomorrow morning.”
Elizabeth’s last thoughts before sleep were of the brief conversation with Darcy as she handed him his tea. She summoned up his easygoing, slightly teasing manner, his warm smile, and what seemed to be his hope of seeing her in the morning. She reminded herself to select a particularly good apple for Sirdar, and then she turned over and drifted into a peaceful slumber.
She awoke early the next morning feeling relaxed and contented, perhaps more so than she had since the loss of her father. She sprang from bed, washed and dressed quickly, and was soon selecting three apples—one for Sirdar, one for Darcy, and one for herself—from the winter stores on offer in the kitchen. With a wave to Cook, she was out into the chilly morning air, relishing the sunshine.
It was early, and she decided on a brief run to the accustomed meeting-place. As she gained the drive in the front of the house, she broke into the easy lope that could carry her for a mile or more without fatigue. She relished the action, the feeling of warmth that pervaded her as her muscles stretched and loosened. Idly she thought that perhaps she should have been born a male.
