Rose Cottage

by A K Madison

  Jane smiled as Elizabeth’s only response was an “Mmm” just before she applied herself to the soup. When Elizabeth had enjoyed a few spoonsful, she smiled back at her sister. “Jane, it was so good of you to come. Is Charles sending a carriage for you?”

  “You will not be rid of me quite so easily, dear. I intend to stay the night. I hope you will not mind giving up your newfound privacy for one night.”

  “Jane, you should not have to be away from your husband just because our mother has decided to favor us with one of her performances! I believe I will be well enough to go downstairs tomorrow with some help. In fact, I could probably go there now. I am feeling much better.”

  “You stay where you are.” Once Elizabeth had finished her dinner, Jane took the tray away. Searching beneath a particular cushion, she located a book and pulled it out. “Is this what you are currently reading, Lizzy?” At Elizabeth’s nod, Jane pulled her chair nearer to the bed, opened the book, and began to read. It was not long before Elizabeth sighed, settled her cheek on her hand, and fell into a deep, restorative slumber.

  Darcy and Bingley, cast adrift for one night, sat comfortably in Netherfield’s sparse library enjoying their brandy. A fire warded off the chill.

  “Jane is expecting to feed our candidate tomorrow evening, and she has ordered a guest suite prepared for his visit. All is in readiness here, but I wonder how Elizabeth is getting on this evening.”

  “From what I know of Miss Bennet, your bride will have a problem seeing to her rest. She will want to be up and about. I do not believe the injuries are serious.”

  “But they certainly gave you a turn, Darcy. You should have seen your face when you rode up.”

  Darcy chose not to respond, and the two friends poured a final tot of brandy and watched the fire burn down.

  Darcy was awake and dressed early the next morning. It had been agreed between the two before they retired that he would call at Longbourn to inquire after Miss Bennet’s health while Bingley stayed behind to undertake the final preparations for Mr. Emerson’s visit. Darcy would inquire of Jane when the carriage should be sent to bring her home. He consulted his watch with some impatience; the farthing made a pleasant sound as it struck the fine gold of the chain. He knew that the family normally breakfasted at nine, and at ten precisely he ordered that Sirdar be brought around and rode thoughtfully off.

  He found Elizabeth on the sofa in the back parlor, snug beneath a large shawl. She looked almost like her usual self, and Jane and Mary sat with her. “I am come to inquire after your health, Miss Bennet,” he said, and his voice sounded stiff and formal in his own ears. “It is a pleasant surprise to find that you are sufficiently recovered to come downstairs.”

  “Thank you, sir. I am much improved this morning. A good night’s sleep has driven away my headache, and while my ankle still aches, it does not throb as it did yesterday. I am deeply grateful to you for rescuing me.” She smiled. “Were it not for you, I might still be lying out there by the side of the lane like a poor, upended turtle.”

  Darcy smiled, and she noticed that the smile reached all the way to his eyes. “It was an honor to be of service, Miss Bennet.” A somewhat awkward pause ensued. “And Mrs. Bennet? How is she?”

  Mary rolled her eyes in what might or might not have been a flash of good humor. “She is still in bed, sir, and is still in her usual state. Lydia and Catherine are with her. I must say, this has allowed Elizabeth to recuperate in the presence of the quieter members of the family.” This time she did smile briefly. “Perhaps in that sense, since my mother is not seriously ill, it has been a good thing.”

  “Mary! I am shocked, indeed I am.” Elizabeth affected a mock-scandalized tone. “Are you implying that our mother and sisters are noisy?”

  “Believe what you will, dear sister. Accident or not, you are the author of the current tragic opera.” And Mary truly did astonish them all into hearty laughter by giving her sister a broad wink.

  Darcy took up the conversation. Determined to preserve the congenial mood, he began. “My dear Mrs. Bingley, your devoted husband is wasting away alone at Netherfield. He begs me to inquire when he may send the carriage that shall once again make him the happiest man in the world.” Darcy paused, and with perfect timing added blandly, “Oh. And we are expecting Mr. Emerson for dinner.”

  Jane’s blue eyes flew open momentarily as she was startled by his serious tone. Then she, too, laughed heartily. “Sir, you may tell my dear husband that I shall be ready to fly to his waiting arms at midafternoon. Let us say about two. That should give me ample time to kill and cook the fatted calf, make all things ready for the feast, and adorn myself in a manner suited to my exalted station.” She looked down demurely and made a few stitches in her needlework. Her sisters laughed, for Jane was the most literal-minded of all of them and scarcely ever made a jest. Hill, bringing in the tea-tray, was pleased to find them all so merry. Darcy ventured a shy smile at Elizabeth and was completely dazzled by the brilliance of the smile she bestowed upon him in return.

  Jane and Mary chatted on, but Elizabeth and Darcy grew quiet. Each was privately evaluating the smiles of the other. Elizabeth, who had memorized Darcy’s smile, began to consider it in light of all the previous disapproving looks. She realized that his looks yesterday after the accident had not conveyed disapproval but rather worry and concern. Had she been wrong about his demeanor during their previous encounters? She recalled again the conversation at Rosings the previous spring when he had said, “I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers.” Shyness is an affliction but poorly understood by those who do not suffer from it.

  Darcy’s mind was agreeably engaged, though his thoughts were much less well-ordered. How had he managed to capture such a radiant smile from her? Her gaze on him had been so warm, her eyes so bright, her smile so—he knew not what. He only knew that her smile seemed to be for him, alone. He recalled the first evening he had seen her at that disastrous assembly in Meryton. He had dismissively urged Bingley to return to his partner and enjoy her smiles. But he had not known until this very moment what it truly meant to enjoy a woman’s smiles. Darcy was not a jovial man, but he delighted in time spent with family and good friends. Perhaps he had allowed his natural reserve to build a wall between him and this woman he had grown to love so dearly.

  He reasoned that there was no time like the present and raised his eyes just at the moment Elizabeth raised hers. This resulted in another silent exchange. Before either could say a word, Mrs. Hill entered the room. “Mrs. Bingley, Mrs. Bennet is asking to see you upstairs.” Jane stood and followed her out of the room. Darcy turned to Mary and Elizabeth and said, “I had best be going too. We have high hopes of Mr. Emerson’s becoming steward at Netherfield. It is important for me to be there when he arrives.”

  “Let me just ask Mr. Hill to have your horse brought round, Mr. Darcy.” With a look at the two remaining, Mary left the room, being certain to leave the door open a little distance.

  “Thank you again, sir. You were either my Good Samaritan or my knight in shining armor. Whichever it was, I should have been in great distress without you.” This time the smiles came more easily.

  Darcy bowed over her hand. “I shall be very much occupied with Mr. Emerson until Wednesday. May I call after church tomorrow to inquire after your mother’s health, and yours?”

  “Of course. I am only sorry we shall not be able to invite you to stay to dinner.”

  “Another time, perhaps.” His look carried a certain air of hope that there would be a next time. He bowed again, went out to his horse, and rode happily back to Netherfield.

  When he arrived, it was to find Mr. Emerson sitting with Bingley in the study. The man who unfolded himself from his chair to greet Darcy was tall and broad-shouldered, topping Darcy himself. He had red hair, fading to gray, blue eyes, and a complexion that spoke of long days spent outdoors. His clothing, though well-made, was old-fashioned, and he wore his hair tied at the back into a club, a styl
e twenty years out of vogue. Though he was clearly a gentleman, there was nothing of the dandy about him.

  Darcy, helping himself to sandwiches and ale, liked Emerson on sight. He settled back to listen as Bingley spoke.

  “I was just explaining to Mr. Emerson the situation at Longbourn including the fact that my mother-in-law and four of her daughters will be moving into Rose Cottage. The extra dependents make it doubly important for me to succeed at placing Netherfield on a profitable footing.”

  “Mr. Darcy, your estate is Pemberley, in Derbyshire, is it not?” Emerson’s voice was deep, but not loud.

  “Yes, sir. I have the honor to be entrusted with Pemberley.”

  “I have been there once or twice as a boy. Our fathers were acquainted. You may still have been in the nursery, sir. I remember particularly the care and pride your father took in the estate and the high regard of his tenants and servants. I also remember your honored mother, who offered us a warm welcome. It seems you are following in your father’s footsteps.”

  “Thank you, sir. I am making every effort to do so.”

  When they had finished their luncheon and drunk the last of the ale, Mr. Emerson suggested a tour of the property on horseback. It was shortly after noon, the day was fine, and the other two gentlemen easily assented. “Tis just to get an overview of the extent of the property, the condition of the land, and so on. It will not come alive to me until I have seen it all with my own eyes.” Darcy found himself more and more approving of Mr. Emerson’s plain manners and sound ideas.

  “Bingley, I am directed to ask you to send a carriage for Mrs. Bingley at two o’clock. She will be waiting.”

  “It shall be done.”

  The three gentlemen managed to visit, however briefly, all the areas of Bingley’s property. They saw the rich land, now mostly fallow; the pastures, which also stood largely empty; and the farm cottages and outbuildings, which were in disrepair but not completely run down. Mr. Emerson took everything in, asking few questions. Their return to the house took them past Rose Cottage, where the workmen were busy with the roof, two young boys were turning over the back garden, and the gardeners were pruning the roses. “This is Rose Cottage, sir. It will serve as home to my wife’s mother and sisters when work on it is complete.”

  “Very wise of you.”

  The gentlemen returned to the house where Jane had tea ready for them. They enjoyed a pleasant conversation until it was time to dress for dinner. When Jane and Bingley retired to their rooms to dress, Jane coughed once or twice. “Nothing to be concerned about, dearest. I was up quite late after Lizzy fell asleep last night. Mama was her usual overdramatic self, and Kitty and Lydia had been with her all day. I shall be fine.”

  Bingley, though worried, knew better than to argue with his wife. Her maid, Brinklow, had no such compunction, and Jane was put to bed with a hot-water bottle and a tray with hot broth and ginger tea. She begged Bingley to make her apologies to her guests, and he promised to do so.

  The gentlemen, having desired Bingley to convey their regards to his lady, settled in to dine bachelor-style.

  After the table had been cleared and the cigars and brandy had been brought in, the talk turned to Netherfield and Charles Bingley’s hopes and ambitions for the property. Darcy observed that James Emerson was interviewing Bingley rather than the other way around. Darcy watched the older man closely as he observed and commented on the land, its potential, and its shortcomings. Bingley, though unassuming by nature, was frequently heard to say that his late father had been a tradesman. That was true as far as it went, but in fact, the elder Bingley had built a substantial textile industry in Yorkshire. His ambition had been to leave his only son with a fortune respectable enough that he could become a gentleman. Bingley had learned a great deal about practical business matters from his father, and Darcy had recognized that fact early in their friendship. It appeared to him that James Emerson understood the same thing.

  Bingley sat at his ease and said, “It is regrettable in a sense that I did not have the opportunity to search for a better maintained property. I had let Netherfield over a year ago with little intention of living here for more than a year. It seemed a pleasant place to bring friends in the summer, convenient to London, and the shooting is excellent. In fact, though I know little of farming, I have formed the opinion that my sort of lease is chiefly what ails this estate. It has served for too long as a temporary country retreat for those who take no interest in it. I moved ahead with the purchase when I began to appreciate the situation in my wife’s family. Longbourn is entailed away to a distant cousin, and it was obvious that I might one day become the chief provider for my wife’s mother and sisters. It is providential that I bought the place. We had no idea how soon that prediction would come to pass.”

  Bingley poured himself another splash of brandy before continuing. “I would not change a thing as matters stand. Family ties are all-important, and Jane is the perfect wife for me. It is as if we were formed for each other. And while I may appear somewhat lackadaisical, I attended to everything my father taught me. I may know little of farming, but I know something of business. It seems to me that the land here is as good as any other in the neighborhood. And this place is located so near to London that just about anything one might coax out of the ground would turn a profit.”

  Emerson threw back his head and laughed. “Well said, Mr. Bingley. I have seen and heard enough that I feel safe in saying I am your man if you want me. You may not have been born a farmer, but I’ll wager you have the makings of a good one. I am willing to take this project on.”

  “Well, well, that is excellent, Mr. Emerson.” Bingley extended his hand and the older man shook it. “I shall be delighted to have you. Though we should probably wait to discuss your compensation until we have slept off the brandy.”

  “Very wise.” Emerson grew serious. “What decided me was your discussion of your family responsibilities. The greatest disappointment of my life is to have worked side by side with the old Earl to create an estate of meaningful value, and then to watch the young Earl toss it away in just a few years. And he is gone. He never had a wife to come home to, never had chick nor child to nurture and bring up. His life was meaningless in the end. Come what may, that will not happen to you, Mr. Bingley, for you will not allow it to happen.” He raised his glass in a salute to the two men sitting with him at the table. Then he rose. “I should seek my bed, if you will excuse me, gentlemen. Tomorrow is Sunday, and I should like to attend services.”

  Darcy and Bingley rose with him, and all three men took up their candles and went to their beds. Darcy was pleased as he prepared to retire. He liked James Emerson, and he believed the association would be a fruitful one for Bingley. But as he got into bed and put out his candle, it was Elizabeth’s face, and her beautiful smile, that appeared to him.

  Chapter 13

  “Charles, truly I am well enough to stay here on my own this morning. You should accompany the other gentlemen to church. I do not wish to have a great fuss made.”

  Bingley prevailed, and so it was that Darcy and Emerson set off in a carriage together to attend Sunday services at Longbourn parish. Darcy explained to Emerson that he did not anticipate seeing the Bennet family due to Elizabeth’s injury and Mrs. Bennet’s resulting indisposition. Mr. Emerson had no objection to calling at Longbourn after church. In fact, he was curious about this group of ladies who would soon be his near neighbors. As they went to take their places, Darcy was surprised to see Mrs. Bennet in attendance accompanied by Lydia and Mary.

  Beyond returning their bows with an affable inclination of her head, that worthy lady paid them no attention for the duration of the service. Her inner thoughts were busy, and not particularly occupied with Higher Things. Here was Mr. Darcy, come to church without Charles and Jane, but accompanied by Mr. Emerson, the favored candidate for the position of steward at Netherfield. She knew him to be a bachelor, and she was further aware that he was the fourth son of a baronet. P
erhaps he would be an eligible match for one of her girls. The matter was certainly worth pursuing, and she began to consider how she should best proceed. The final hymn and blessing caught her by surprise, and it was only Mary’s hissed “Mama!” and Lydia’s suppressed giggle that brought her back to reality. She hurried from the church, barely stopping to greet the vicar and hardly sparing a nod for her sister or her many acquaintances.

  Having disposed herself, Mary, and Lydia in an attractive grouping in front of an evergreen tree, she waited. She did not wait long, however, for Mr. Darcy and the stranger emerged just a few moments later, having greeted the vicar and made their bows to half the congregation. Darcy saw the ladies and approached immediately.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Bennet. I am pleased to see you are well. May I present Mr. James Emerson? He will shortly join the staff at Netherfield as Mr. Bingley’s chief steward. Mr. Emerson, this is Mrs. Thomas Bennet, Mrs. Bingley’s mother, and two of her daughters, Miss Mary Bennet and Miss Lydia Bennet.”

  Once the formalities were out of the way, Mrs. Bennet started immediately. “Mr. Darcy, where are Jane and Charles? I had expected to see them this morning.”

  “Mrs. Bingley has a very slight cold, madam, and Mr. Bingley chose to stay by her side this morning. I am assured that her recovery will be swift and uneventful. She does not suffer from any fever.”

  “My poor Jane. She is quite prone to catching colds, though they never last very long. Elizabeth is much improved. She is downstairs today, and Kitty is staying with her.” She turned to Emerson. “I have four daughters still at home, Mr. Emerson. Jane is my eldest. She and Mr. Bingley are but lately married.” Turning back to Darcy as if the idea had just struck her, she said, “You gentlemen must dine with us this afternoon. It will be quite informal, just the usual Sunday cold meats. My poor Lizzy will enjoy the company, and it will give Jane an opportunity to rest and get over her sniffles. Please, do join us.”