Feather in the Wind
by Madeline Kennet
Copyright © 2017 Madeline Kennet
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be used in any way without permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction.
Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover image: Don Pablo/Shutterstock
January Blues
February and Futility
A March Gust
April Showers
May Flowers
June and Harmony
July and Folly
The Heat of August
Mellow September
A Feather Found
Which Lady?
The Wrong Man
Missed Opportunities
The Fickleness of Fate
Some Day Soon
Hopes and Speculation
Rainy Day
Muddy Day
The Lady at Last
The Right Man
Ponds and Lakes
Ease and Openness
The Influence of Affection
Thwarted
Red Cheeks
Sickly Ladies
Dragging and Drooping
Cards and Slander
Double Delight
Finally Dancing
January Blues
The paper on the walls was a frosty blue. The frame around the fireplace was painted an icy blue which sucked the warmth out of the flames. The same shade had been used to cover the furnishings, which were adorned with snowy white cushions. On a table in one corner, an empty crystal vase stood upon a crisp white doily with sharp edges.
From a cup which matched the furniture, Mr. Darcy was drinking tepid tea while counting the minutes until he could politely leave. He took another sip and heard his hostess complain that it was a frightfully cold winter.
“We have not been able to take a walk for ages,” she lamented.
He looked at the frost on the window and thought that new glazing would be a good idea, but one could hardly say so. It did not help either that the ceiling was exceptionally high. Any warmth must be rising to the upper reaches while the draft crept along the floor and chilled the lower portion of the room.
“I would not like Julia to catch cold, but I do think she is in need of some fresh air,” her mother said.
She was probably getting some, brought in by that draft, Mr. Darcy thought.
“Perhaps it would do her good to go out for a drive if she were very well wrapped up.”
Mr. Darcy knew a hint when he heard one. “I would not recommend it,” he said in what he hoped sounded like a solicitous tone. “It is freezing outside. In my opinion, you would do better to wait a few more weeks before you think of going out in the carriage.”
“I suppose so,” the lady said. He heard her disappointment, and soon afterwards took his leave, speaking of an intention to pay some more post-Christmas calls to other friends. He had not planned anything of the sort but hoped that this would keep them from attaching much significance to his visit or forming any future expectations on the basis of it.
Outside, the frosty air nipped at his fingers and nose. He hurried into the carriage, wondering how he could have been so mistaken. He had paid this call thinking that Julia would make a suitable wife.
They had been together in company a few times, and he had admired her dignified comportment. It was she who had come to mind when, during the holiday which he had recently spent with his aunt and uncle, they had encouraged him to give some serious thought to fixing upon a wife and getting on with the business of producing an heir. After Christmas, he had taken Georgiana back to her school and then journeyed to London on his own, which gave him time to think things over.
He did feel an inclination to marry, not just to acquire an heir or a hostess, but because he had a desire for companionship. He had been feeling lonely of late and wanted to find somebody special with whom to share his life.
His opinion that Julia could bring him all this happiness had been very quickly adjusted by today’s meeting. Her manners were perfectly correct, but he had felt a lack of warmth in them. Why had he not noticed this before? Her eyes were sharp and cold. She would make a good hostess for a man who was not desiring anything more, but he had images of cozy conversations and a warm attachment. She was not the lady for him.
______
There was sprinkling of snow across the path, and the grass on either side was crisp with frost. Elizabeth could see her breath in the frigid air. It was not an ideal day for a walk, but she had ventured a little way down the lane to give herself some relief from a tiff between Kitty and Lydia which had been going on since breakfast.
They had all been cooped up for too long. Christmas, with its abundance of celebrations and the annual visit of their aunt and uncle Gardiner, had the unfortunate disadvantage of making January seem duller by comparison. Even Elizabeth was feeling bored and disinterested in the pursuits which would usually keep her busy. She did not normally struggle with listlessness, but the coldness of this winter had made it difficult to get out as much as she would like.
She had been feeling unusually low in recent days, but now this walk was making her feel more invigorated, perhaps in part because she was keeping up a quick pace to avoid becoming chilled. Even so, she could not resist pausing for a few minutes to admire a jaunty robin perched upon a snow-speckled branch. Its red breast added a cheerful splash of colour to the icy landscape and lifted her spirits.
It was a pity she did not have a handful of crumbs to repay this handsome bird. If it was not too cold tomorrow, she would take another walk, and bring along a bit of bread in the hope of finding him.
A shiver persuaded her that it was time to return to the warmth of a good fire, so she turned and ran down the path toward home, reaching the drive at the same time as a carriage which she recognized as belonging to the Lucases. From it, emerged Lady Lucas with her daughters Charlotte and Maria. Elizabeth called out a greeting and hurried to meet them.
“What a very cold day it is,” Lady Lucas said. “You were brave to venture out for a walk in this weather.”
“Only to the end of the lane,” Elizabeth said. “That was far enough for a frosty outing, but I feel quite refreshed.”
“It does one good to get out,” Lady Lucas agreed, “but this carriage ride was enough for me on such a day.”
The front door opened to reveal Kitty and Lydia. They were tightly wrapped in shawls and did not venture past the doorway, but cried, “Do come in. We are all waiting to hear if you have any interesting news.”
The visitors went in, and they all gathered in the drawing room when Lady Lucas gave what little news she had. It was nothing of import, but they were all cheered by having the company of friends. Even without anything exciting to discuss, Lydia and Kitty were soon deep in animated conversation with Maria. She and Jane made a group with Charlotte, Mary hung upon the edges of both, and the two mothers discussed the subject which always came up when they were together: the chances of finding suitors for their daughters.
“I do not see why Mr. Goulding’s son had to go and find himself a wife outside of the neighbourhood,” Mrs. Bennet complained. This event had taken place last summer, but it is still rankled with her.
Elizabeth thought the answer was perfectly obvious. The new Mrs. Goulding was a pleasant lady, but more importantly, she had 10,000 pounds. If he had confined himself to the neighbourhood, young Mr. Goulding would not have been able to find himself a wife with even half that
sum.
“Perhaps the Longs’ nephew is in need of a wife,” Lady Lucas said hopefully. This unknown young man was expected to visit soon. Mrs. Long had mentioned it a few weeks ago, and Elizabeth had heard her mother and Lady Lucas refer to it several times since.
“It will not matter what he needs if he does not have good prospects,” Mrs. Bennet said gloomily. “Mrs. Long’s avoidance of that subject leaves me dubious.”
Elizabeth did not think there was much hope either. She was beginning to accept that the chances of finding a husband were not good. Charlotte, whose portion was much the same as her own, was unmarried at the age of seven-and-twenty, and Jane, who was the undisputed beauty of the neighbourhood, was already two-and-twenty. She would herself be entering into her twenties this year.
For her mother’s benefit and Lady Lucas’s she hoped that the neighbourhood might somehow be suddenly inundated by gentlemen who had good prospects and were in need of wives, but for her part, she felt the futility of wishful thinking.
February and Futility
Mr. Darcy had met a great many young ladies in the past few weeks. His aunt and uncle were continuing to encourage him in thoughts of marriage, and they had no shortage of candidates to recommend.
One of them had caught his particular interest. Lady Mary Addington was beautiful and elegant, with a pleasant manner which very much appealed to him after the terrible mistake he had nearly made. They had spent numerous evenings in each other’s company, and everything about their acquaintance had persuaded him that she was an excellent choice. He also had a fancy for his wife to have the same courtesy title as his mother. Lady Mary Darcy sounded very well.
His mind was made up. All that remained was to choose his moment. He wavered at the idea of a February engagement. The streets were so dirty and the park so barren. It was not the ideal time of year to go for a walk or a drive in the carriage with his fiancée. Spring would be a nicer time for those activities, but on the other hand, if he proposed now, he could enjoy the delights of spring with his wife.
Besides that, he did not want to wait any longer, and certainly not for such a frivolous reason as better weather and prettier scenery. That would come in due course, but he wanted his happiness to be settled now, so he made the fateful visit one February morning when the sun was shining feebly and the day was promising to be tolerable.
He dressed for the occasion with great care, and prudently avoided the dirtiest parts of the pavement when going to and from the carriage. As he lifted his hand to the door knocker, Mr. Darcy felt a little flutter of trepidation. What if she did not say yes?
Reminding himself that she had shown signs of welcoming his affections, he grasped the door knocker firmly. He was admitted and shown into the drawing room. The expression on his lady’s face declared that she was pleased to see him; however, he detected that her mother was not so welcoming. Her lack of enthusiasm made him feel awkward about asking for a private conversation with Lady Mary. Instead he asked if she might like to go for a drive around the park. Fortuitously, he had come in an open carriage.
It was the mother who answered. “I am afraid that it will not be possible, Mr. Darcy. We are expecting Lord Charlton to pay a visit at any moment. He most particularly wishes to see my daughter.”
Her meaning was too obvious to be called a hint. There was only one response for a proud gentleman to make. “Charlton,” he said, “is an excellent man. Very well informed.”
In fact, Mr. Darcy only knew him slightly, but he would not allow anybody to see his disappointment. The countess now smiled at him, either because she thought him indifferent to her daughter, or because she perceived that he was not inclined to go against the correct forms of society.
His conformity was not quite as strong as she believed it to be, however. His Lordship arrived in a few more minutes, and while the eager mother was warmly greeting him, Mr. Darcy took an opportunity to whisper to Lady Mary, “Is this what you want?”
“It pleases my family,” she said, and for a moment he considered encouraging her to think only of what pleased her, but then she added, “and I will be a countess like my mother. Do you not think Lady Charlton sounds very well?”
So she wanted a title. The one thing which he could not offer. Wealth, good connections, a grand estate, and a fine townhouse were all in his gift, but he lacked nobility.
“I have very much enjoyed our friendship,” she said. “I hope we shall always be friends.”
“Of course,” he said, rising to leave. After making a few pleasant remarks to the favoured gentleman for the sake of appearances, he made his escape.
“Not good enough,” was fixed in his thoughts as he stepped across the filthy pavement and climbed into his carriage. He had failed because he did not belong to the highest ranks of society. She had found his company agreeable, but his consequence was insufficient. The morning had swiftly turned his hopes into mortification and his plans into dust.
______
Mrs. Long’s nephew was a disappointment to all the hopeful mothers who met him. They could forgive him for being plain in appearance and dull in manner, but not for being a mere curate. It did not take much enquiry for Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas to determine that he could not afford a wife and that his circumstances were not likely to change anytime soon. His strange enthusiasm for the low-paying position which he had recently been given was incomprehensible to them, and they quickly lost interest in hearing him speak of his good fortune.
Elizabeth was better able to understand his satisfaction with what had come his way. A newly ordained man would be very fortunate indeed to quickly find himself in possession of a living with a good income. In her opinion, Mr. Long was very fortunate. He would have useful employment for which he seemed to be well suited, the accompanying fulfillment, and an income sufficient for his needs. Since he did not seem inclined to wish for anything more, including a wife, she thought it appropriate to congratulate him on his good fortune, and she made up for the disinterest of the others by asking him what he knew of the neighbourhood to which he would shortly be moving.
Jane also took a part in listening to him and making him feel welcome while the others ignored him. This earned them the gratitude of Mrs. Long, who had been a little offended to see him slighted by her acquaintance. She was well aware that a curate was practically nobody in society, but she thought that her so-called friends might have been a bit more attentive. Still, Jane and Elizabeth Bennet were excellent girls, and they more than made up for the others.
Her nephew had no expectations of receiving attention and no misapprehension of his own importance, so he thought that the two young ladies were very kind to take an interest in his insignificant affairs. Fortunately, he did not happen to fall in love with them. The seriousness of his mind did not encourage such foolishness. It would be a long time before he could afford a wife, and in the meantime, he was determined to be immune to Miss Bennet’s pretty smiles and her sister’s sparkling eyes. They were not for him, but when they wished him well on his departure, he expressed the same sentiment with a genuine hope that these two lovely ladies would find the happiness that they deserved.
Later that day, Elizabeth ventured out on the muddy paths. The countryside was rather dirty, but there was a hint of spring in the air, and she thought the day well worth the effort which would later be spent in cleaning her boots. On her ramble, she mulled over Mr. Long’s recent visit. Had she also felt something of disappointment? Not due to his lack of prospects, for he was too serious for her taste. He was nice and his character exemplary, but she had no regrets about him.
Her disappointment was more general in nature. The truth was that, despite acknowledging the futility, every time a gentleman visited the neighbourhood, she had felt a faint hope that the visitor might settle her fate, or Jane’s, or perhaps that of her good friend Charlotte. To remain forever at home was not the most desirable prospect for them, and she did wish for a better future. But as the years went by, that dre
am was fizzling out.
A March Gust
Through his drawing room window, Mr. Darcy saw that new leaves on the trees across the road were being assailed by gusts of wind. A newspaper sheet came flying across the park and was flung against the trunk of a tree, where it was held firmly in place, with the edges flapping on either side. Mr. Darcy watched in fascination for a minute, and then the wind shifted and gave the paper its freedom. The sheet flew up into the air like a kite and was bandied about by the capricious currents. It zigged and zagged, soared and sank, and twisted and turned until it was whisked out of sight.
This was not a good day for venturing outdoors, and Mr. Darcy thought it best to put off the call which he had intended to pay upon his friend Mr. Bingley that morning. He picked up a book but found himself feeling restless, and when the wind subsided in another hour, he decided to go out after all.
Mr. Bingley was an easy-tempered person who had a great ability to put his friends into the same happy mood which always encompassed him. After his recent disappointment, Mr. Darcy was feeling in need of some cheering up. It was not that he had suffered from any particular heartbreak. Indeed, he had afterwards examined his feelings and concluded that they had not run deep. The blow to his pride had hurt him more than the success of a rival suitor. This was the main source of his current ennui. He had been certain of feeling a strong attachment, and the realization that he was not deeply distressed was concerning. It seemed that he was not very good at understanding his own heart.
He had decided to forget about the idea of finding a wife for the moment, and simply enjoy the company of friends while he mulled over what it was that he really wanted. Unfortunately visits to Mr. Bingley had lately been marred by the presence of his sisters. Mr. Darcy rued his generosity in inviting Bingley to bring his sisters and brother-in-law to spend a few days at Pemberley on their way north last summer. Before that, he had considered them to be only passing acquaintances, but while staying in his house, Miss Bingley had behaved as though they were intimate friends. Back in London, she had carried on in the same manner.
Feather in the Wind: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 1
