Meanwhile, a similar letter, this one carried by a servant from Netherfield Park, had reached Elizabeth and Mr Darcy. In her excitement to be gone to her sister’s side, all thoughts of footpads and ruffians were banished from her mind as she flew around the house, making preparations for the journey.
Seeing her thus—bright eyes shining, a smile constantly playing on her lips, humming a tune as she tripped briskly or ran to complete some task, Darcy was more than happy that, unexpectedly, the son of Bingley and Jane had arrived to restore Lizzie’s happiness and with it his own.
A further reason for their joy lay in the invitation the letter contained to be godparents to young Jonathan Charles. For Darcy and Elizabeth, whose affection for Jane and Bingley was a very special part of their lives; it was an honour requested and promised many months ago. Elizabeth knew how much this child meant to her sister; she knew he would bring fulfilment to an already felicitous marriage. She longed to be there to share Jane’s happiness.
It was with real joy in their hearts that they set off for Netherfield.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Of heirs and graces
NO CHILD, BORN BEFORE or since young Jonathan Charles Bingley, had or was ever likely to have such a clamour of congratulations and goodwill surround its birth. That was the considered opinion of his grandfather, Mr Bennet, whose joy at the birth of Jane’s son had left him with a look of perpetual felicity that was not at all in keeping with his usual sardonic view of life. Unlike his wife who had been in a state of high excitement about the birth of Lydia’s son some months ago, Mr Bennet had succeeded in avoiding the event by virtue of its having taken place in Newcastle.
When news arrived that Jane had been prematurely brought to bed, however, he had felt it was his bounden duty to proceed to Netherfield House and keep his son-in-law company through the anxious hours until Jonathan was born. Thereafter, he was available to dispense refreshment and good news to any and everyone who called to inquire after the well-being of mother and child.
Whether it was the universally acknowledged beauty and sweet nature of his mother, the unfailingly amiable disposition of his father, or the recognition that there must be an heir to inherit the growing fortune of the Bingleys was not clear. Whatever the reason, there was no doubt that Netherfield Park was the nearest thing to a place of pilgrimage for the next week.
The birth of Master Bingley was an event of some circumstance in the neighbourhood. As the news became more widely known, friends, acquaintances, tenants, and nosey neighbours arrived, many bearing flowers, fruit, and other small tokens, some hoping for a little peep at Mrs Bingley and the baby and feeling very disappointed that Jane and her son were not as yet ready to receive visitors. The servants were run off their feet, and Mr and Mrs Gardiner were kept busy receiving the callers, since Charles Bingley hardly left his wife’s side for long.
Mr Bingley had been profoundly grateful for the arrival of Mrs Gardiner, who immediately proceeded to take charge of the household, while her husband, in his thoroughly practical way, assisted with matters such as placing the usual notices in the appropriate journals and meeting the coach at Meryton—the coach on which Mrs Bennet was arriving from Newcastle. Only her brother would be able to convince Mrs Bennet that she was not required to rush immediately to Jane’s side but should go home to Longbourn, where she could rest and change before visiting her daughter and grandson in the evening. Despite her loud protestations that she must surely go forthwith to “poor Jane,” Mr Gardiner would have none of it. “Do not distress yourself, Sister, Jane is quite recovered, and little Jonathan seems very well indeed; his lungs are certainly in excellent order,” said Mr Gardiner, persuading her that there was no immediate need to rush to Netherfield. “After your long journey from Newcastle, it would be best that you take some refreshment and rest awhile, before you call on them. Mrs Gardiner has been at Netherfield these last two days and is doing all that needs be done. You can rest assured Jane is well looked after.”
“And where is Lizzie? Has she arrived?” Mrs Bennet asked.
“Mr and Mrs Darcy are expected at any time,” her brother replied.
“Mr and Mrs Darcy! Oooh! Doesn’t it sound grand?” Mrs Bennet swelled almost visibly with pride as she said it. “Do you know, Brother, when I mentioned their names in Newcastle among the regimental ladies—especially those who were Lydia’s friends, they were just green with envy at the immense good fortune of our two girls. Lizzie and Jane have done so well.” Her brother agreed and added that the news about Kitty was good also.
“Indeed it is, you could have knocked me down with a feather when Mr Bennet’s letter arrived telling me Kitty was engaged! ‘Kitty engaged,’ I said, ‘now isn’t she the sly one!’Who would have thought? And brother, what an excellent match—the young man is Rector at Pemberley!”
Glad to have got her off the subject of going directly to Jane’s bedside, Mr Gardiner instructed the driver to take the road to Longbourn, knowing how grateful the members of the family at Netherfield would be. Even better, he was to escort her there and return to Netherfield in the carriage, thereby ensuring that she had no independent means of transport, until Mr Bennet sent his carriage over to fetch her in the afternoon.
Mrs Gardiner was at the window of Jane’s bedroom, looking out over the park and into the lane beyond, when she saw her husband’s carriage turning into the drive. Close behind was another vehicle, which turned out to be carrying Darcy and Elizabeth, who had broken journey overnight, in London. Mrs Gardiner went quickly downstairs and out to greet them. Mr Gardiner had alighted and met them at the entrance. As the servants moved to unload their trunks, Elizabeth embraced her aunt and uncle and wanted to go to Jane at once. “Is she well?” she asked and on being reassured immediately added, “And Jonathan?”
“He is very tiny, but he’s healthy, and he is a beautiful boy, Lizzie,” replied her aunt, trying hard to keep up with Elizabeth as she ran up the stairs. As they reached the landing, Mr Bingley appeared at the top of the stairs, his face wreathed in smiles.
“My dear Lizzie, Jane has been longing to see you,” he cried as he greeted her warmly and led her to Jane’s room.
Jane’s delight at seeing her sister at last was matched only by Elizabeth’s own. She was paler and looked a little tired, but there was a glow, almost a luminous quality, about her face and a sweetness of expression that made Lizzie catch her breath. Her beauty, which had always been exceptional, had acquired a new fragility, like very fine china, which made her seem even more precious to a loving sister.
Leaving the sisters to embrace and exchange news, Bingley went to fetch Mr Darcy, while Mrs Gardiner fetched Jonathan from the nursery. Elizabeth was captivated by him, small, rosy, and fine-featured like his mother, with a little tuft of honey gold hair. Jonathan was still asleep, when Jane took him in her arms; Bingley stood beside her, ever the proud father.
Looking up at her husband, Lizzie saw the softening of his features as he smiled when little Jonathan opened his eyes. She bent and took the child from her sister’s arms; as she did so, Jane, Bingley, and Mrs Gardiner exchanged glances at the very pretty grouping they made. There was no doubt in any of their minds that both Darcy and Elizabeth must long for their own child.
Later that day, when they were alone, Jane asked her sister the inevitable question. “Lizzie, you will not be angry at me for asking, will you?” she said, a little uncertainly.
“Of course not, dearest Jane, you know you can ask me anything. What’s more, in this case, if you promise to keep a secret, I might just have a happy answer for you,” Elizabeth replied. Jane was immediately excited and demanded to be told.
Elizabeth’s face was suffused with colour as she explained that she was hopeful but unsure and needed to see the doctor before she could tell her husband the news. “I shall have to talk to my aunt first,” she said, and Mrs Gardiner coming in with some tea for Elizabeth, overheard her remark and demanded to know what it was she was to be told, and wh
y could it not be told now.
On hearing Elizabeth’s news, she gave such a girlish whoop of delight that Lizzie had to hush her and beg that the knowledge be limited to the three of them until they had been to Meryton and seen the doctor. Jane was not at all sure she could keep it a secret from Bingley but promised solemnly to try her very best.
She did, however, make a very helpful suggestion that might obviate the need for Lizzie and her aunt to travel to Meryton, in what looked like worsening weather, to consult Dr Faulkner.
Jane explained that her own doctor was due to visit in a day or two and suggested that Elizabeth should consult him instead, thereby avoiding any possibility of the news that she had been to see a doctor in Meryton, getting out and about in the neighbourhood, with all the attendant rumour and gossip.
It was an idea that appealed to Elizabeth very much indeed. “How long can you stay with us, Lizzie?” Jane asked, to which her sister replied that while Darcy had business in London next week, she had no need to hurry back to Derbyshire for at least a couple of weeks.
“We must be back at Pemberley in October, for Rosamund’s wedding, of course,” she said. Jane explained that Jonathan’s christening would be in three weeks’ time, and Lizzie was sure they could both stay until then. “Should Darcy need to go back, he will certainly return for the christening,” she said. Mrs Gardiner interposed that Mr Gardiner had told her he and Mr Darcy had business in London, which meant they would have the house to themselves for a few days. The words were hardly out of her mouth when there was a commotion and an eruption of noisy laughter downstairs, followed by the unmistakable voices of Mrs Bennet and her sister Mrs Phillips on the stairs. Soon afterwards, a maid appeared with the two ladies, who sailed into the room. Elizabeth tried to withdraw but not before her mother and her aunt had both remarked on how well she was looking and when was there going to be a new addition to the Darcy family? Elizabeth did not deign to answer, and since her sister was the real centre of attention, she succeeded in escaping further scrutiny.
Meanwhile, Mrs Bennet turned to Jane, “Jane, oh my dearest daughter, how fortunate you are that I was able to get away. Lydia could not have spared me two weeks ago; she has only just engaged a very suitable nurse, a Scottish woman, who comes highly recommended, to look after Henry. I must say, he is such a big boy already and so like his father.” Elizabeth winced and was relieved when the nurse brought in little Jonathan for his grandmother’s inspection. “Oh my dear, he is very small!” she cried, and Mrs Phillips agreed. Elizabeth, unable to bear it any longer, went quietly out of the room, feeling guilty at leaving her sister but knowing that Jane had always been able to cope better with their mother’s ramblings.
At dinner, it was much the same. Mrs Bennet’s tales of life “up North” with the “regimental ladies” as she insisted on calling them, took up most of the time, when she and Mrs Phillips were not giving Mr Bingley advice on bringing up Jonathan, advice Elizabeth was sure flowed over him, leaving no recollection whatsoever. Mercifully, her father, realising that neither his daughter nor his sons-in-law could be expected to put up with both Mrs Bennet and Mrs Phillips for an entire evening, declared that everyone must be very tired after all the travelling they had done, called for his carriage, and left for Longbourn, taking with him his wife and her sister. He could see the gratitude in Elizabeth’s eyes as they said goodbye, even as Mrs Bennet was heard promising to return as soon as possible.
While her husband and brother-in-law were far too polite to show it, a huge sense of relief swept over Elizabeth. She hoped, nay she knew, her father would ensure that her mother would not be back for a day or two, at least. There would be dozens of household matters that would require her attention, and no doubt she would be wanting to call on Lady Lucas, Mrs Long, and all her other friends in the neighbourhood with her news and gossip from Newcastle. Feeling guilty at what she felt was her disloyalty but yet unable to do anything to change how she responded to her mother, Elizabeth decided to make the best of her time with Jane. She wanted to spend time with her sister. Jane and Lizzie had always been close, but the last two years had drawn them even closer, as their lives had been so totally changed, yet linked together through their husbands. With Mrs Gardiner taking charge of the household, the two sisters had their hearts’ greatest wish, being left to their own devices—free to talk for hours together, except when Jane was called away to Jonathan. They had never been happier either: Jane, with every dream fulfilled, Elizabeth wanting only to fulfil her hope of a child to match her sister’s happiness. Lizzie longed to tell her husband but determined to wait to be certain, not wanting the heartbreak of disappointment to touch him, too.
As they prepared to retire for the night, Lizzie asked Darcy when he was going to London with Mr Gardiner and how long they would be away. Darcy revealed their intention of leaving on the Monday and said they would probably be away all week, because they planned to visit a property in Derbyshire as well. When she expressed surprise, he explained that it concerned the Gardiners’ desire to move out of London. A property had recently come to Darcy’s attention, and he had recommended that Mr Gardiner take a look at it. Elizabeth’s surprise turned to astonishment as he continued, “You see, dearest, following our little confrontation with the gentlemen from London, Sir Edmond was approached by an agent for two of them—absentee landlords both. They are losing money, and their land is losing its value. They want to sell out before the prices fall even further. Sir Edmond cannot make an offer, he’s the magistrate who cautioned them—it would not be right, but he mentioned it to me, and since your uncle had often spoken of buying in Derbyshire, I thought immediately of him.”
“My aunt will be delighted. She has always wanted to return to Derbyshire. You know how well she loves it,” said Elizabeth.
“Indeed, I do,” said her husband, “and that is the real value of this property. It is a manor house and farm, not five miles from Lambton, with its own trout stream, orchard, and dairy. Parts of the property have been recently enclosed and hedged for cultivation of corn, but the meadows and woodlands are still free and should probably be allowed to remain so. Now, if your uncle likes it, he may well be able to negotiate a very good price.” Elizabeth was unable to control her delight.
“That means we shall be neighbours!” she cried.
“That thought had also crossed my mind, Lizzie,” he said, clearly pleased as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, responding tenderly to the warmth of her affection.
Even sweeter news came on the following day, when Bingley announced that Ashford House in Leicestershire was ready and as soon as Jane was fit to travel, they would be moving in. Since the lease at Netherfield ran for two more months, “They would have ample time,” he said, and added, “This time, it will be our pleasure to have you all over at Christmas.” For Elizabeth, there was very little more she could ask for, except confirmation of her own special news. This came the following day, when Jane’s doctor visited Netherfield Park and having pronounced Jane and Jonathan to be in excellent health, proceeded to see Elizabeth. He confirmed her hopes of a child, probably due next spring. Elizabeth, Mrs Gardiner, and Jane embraced each other and wept as the joy swept over them.
Mr Darcy and Mr Gardiner had been over to Meryton. On his return, Darcy looked for Elizabeth and not finding her downstairs, went in search of her. Finding her alone in their room, he was anxious and puzzled. She had obviously wept, but she was smiling. “What is it dearest?” he asked, with some trepidation. When she told him, she had the pleasure of seeing his usually serious face light up, as he picked her up in his arms.
“Elizabeth, my darling, are you sure?” She nodded and told him that she had seen Jane’s doctor that very day, “He says it will be in Spring—probably in May.” They kissed, embraced, and laughed, sharing a moment of very private joy, admitting to each other how much they had longed for this news.
Then, becoming serious again, they decided that apart from the Gardiners, Jane, an
d Bingley, they would tell no one else. “Dearest, I should like us to keep the pleasure of this blessed news to ourselves for a little while,” he said, and Lizzie agreed. She also wished to savour the joy of knowing and keeping her secret, before the whole family and the neighbourhood demanded their share.
“We shall tell them after Jonathan’s christening, when we are about to leave for Pemberley,” he suggested. “That way, we shall not have you set about with everyone in the neighbourhood giving you advice.”
“How well you know me already,” she said, softly, “that was my wish exactly.” It was for both of them the greatest moment of happiness they had known so far. Darcy confessed he had not expected such joy, but Elizabeth, not letting him grow too sombre, reminded him that they had decided, a year or more ago, that they were to be the happiest couple in the world. Catching her mood, Darcy responded warmly. “Of course,” he said, smiling, “and you must never let me forget it.”
If one had wished to paint a sky of a brilliant blue and tinge the autumn leaves of the oaks in shades of russet and gold, one might have done worse than paint the day when young Jonathan Charles Bingley was baptised. Proud grandparents, parents, and godparents vied with friends and neighbours to get a glimpse of the little boy who seemed to bring a smile to the face of everyone who set eyes upon him. Jane and Bingley were overwhelmed with good wishes. No one in the neighbourhood could remember so much interest in the birth of a child before, but then, as Elizabeth said to her husband, “Jane is a very special person.”
It was indeed a memorable event and a beautiful early Autumn day for it. Not even the presence of Bingley’s sisters, Mrs Hurst and Caroline, who had travelled from Bath for the christening, could spoil Elizabeth’s joy. Looking particularly well herself, with her own secret shared only with those dearest to her heart, Elizabeth graced the baptism of her nephew with a confidence that no amount of insincerity and artifice on the part of the Bingley sisters could shake.
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