From Longbourn to Pemberley - Autumn 1810

by M-C Ranger

  ‘Simply looking at you and I know everything! Mr. Bingley is certainly one of the visitors, or am I wrong?’ asked Elizabeth, laughing at her sister’s look of embarrassment.

  ‘Is my joy that obvious? In that case, I must calm myself before going back downstairs.’

  Elizabeth smiled tenderly at her sister. Jane, so gentle and serene, unable to hide the emotion that this visit gave rise to. Who would have predicted this?

  The high-pitched voice of Caroline Bingley reached the ears of the two oldest sisters before they had even reached the bottom of the stairs. Elizabeth, sighing, looked over at her sister, but she was so occupied with putting a strand of hair in place that she did not notice a thing. Jane was as charming as Miss Bingley was exasperating!

  ‘Dear Mrs. Bennet, it was impossible for us to not come and deliver this invitation in person. After all, Miss Bennet’s stay with us at Netherfield endeared her even more to us. We insisted that we be the ones to deliver this news, is that not correct, Louisa?’

  The entire discourse was delivered in a tone that was so affected, that Elizabeth clenched her teeth together, but she would do anything to encourage this devotion to Jane … and so she smiled at the visitors; her gaze lingered on Mr. Bingley and she saw in his countenance a good measure of honesty – he was truly sincere. Indeed, he had barely bowed when the two young women entered the room, and already he was inquiring into Jane’s health. Jane smiled at him and his question was hastily answered by Mrs. Bennet, who stated that her eldest daughter was doing better, much better.

  ‘Charles, allow me to reveal to Miss Bennet and her sister the reason that we have come in person,’ said Caroline Bingley, whose tone barely hid her rather forced enthusiasm. ‘We have come to invite you to the ball that we shall be holding on the 26th of November, and having heard that you have a relative who is staying in Longbourn, it would be our pleasure to extend our invitation to him, also.’

  ‘Miss Bingley, how kind of you! I am certain that Mr. Collins, who is presently at the Meryton parish, will be moved by your kind consideration. Wouldn’t you agree, Lizzy?’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course,’ replied Elizabeth after a brief hesitation. ‘That is truly generous of you.’

  ‘Mr. Collins will regret not being able to thank you in person, but my daughter will give him the wonderful news on his return. In fact, Lizzy, you should have accompanied Mr. Collins this morning; I feel that this is your duty.’

  Elizabeth was so embarrassed by her mother’s inappropriate comment that all colour drained from her face. What would their guests think? These ladies already seemed to be thinking about it, because they exchanged discrete smiles that did not escape her notice.

  ‘Mrs. Bennet,’ Charles Bingley interrupted, ‘I must inform you that in addition to the people in the area, some of our friends will also be in attendance. I convinced Mr. Darcy to extend his stay until at least this date. It seems that another of my acquaintances, Mr. Willoughby, will grace us with his presence. I am also pleased to inform you that Mr. Churchill will be present. Your two eldest daughters made his acquaintance when they were in Netherfield. Isn’t that true, Miss Elizabeth?’

  ‘Indeed,’ replied Elizabeth, blushing despite herself. It will truly be a pleasure to see him again!’

  One could add here that, in all likelihood, Frank Churchill would also be very happy to renew his acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth, but that this would be far from being the case for Miss Bingley. The latter still felt a certain degree of bitterness when she thought about the evening in which Mr. Churchill was presented to the Bennet sisters.

  ‘Could I add,’ Louise Hurst interjected, wishing to change the subject, ‘that our friends the Dashwoods will be at the ball. Mr. John Dashwood just inherited a vast estate in Sussex. It is even possible that my husband and I will go there for a short sojourn; this couple is most agreeable to spend time with. I should add that Mrs. Fanny Dashwood’s maiden name is Ferrars.’

  Because the Bennets looked somewhat taken aback, Caroline Bingley could not help but intercede.

  ‘The Ferrars are very good people. Mrs. Ferrars has been a widow for close to a decade. Fortunately, she has two sons, the oldest of which, Mr. Edward Ferrars, will inherit a fairly sizeable fortune. Incidentally, he is friends with Mr. Darcy. Several years ago, they made the acquaintance of one another in Plymouth, and they have been seeing each other regularly since.’

  ‘Caroline, there is no need to emphasize details such as this. All these people will meet each other soon, and I hope that you will be pleased with the first ball at Netherfield,’ exclaimed Charles Bingley, smiling at his hostesses.

  ‘No, Mr. Bingley, say no such thing. These are details which, I dare say, do not fall upon deaf ears,’ insisted Mrs. Bennet, her eyes glinting.

  ‘It will be a pleasure for us to meet all these people at the ball, as well as seeing Mr. Churchill again. How considerate of you to stop here at Longbourn for the sole purpose of inviting us!’ Jane said, directing her prettiest smile at Mr. Bingley, who did his best to forget the previous comment, which was rather untoward.

  When Mr. Collins had come back from his visit to the parish and the youngest daughters had returned from their walk to Meryton, where they had gone to meet with Catherine Morland, the invitation to the ball at Netherfield was read aloud to them. The reverend waxed eloquent on the extraordinary condescension exhibited by the Bingleys in including his humble person on the list of guests, and he hastened to accept the invitation, much to Elizabeth’s chagrin. As for the youngest daughters, their exclamations and excessive outbursts of joy reached such heights that Jane and Elizabeth were relieved that the visitors were not present to bear witness; the comments of their mother having been sufficiently embarrassing, they had no wish to extend the ordeal. However, rest assured that Elizabeth and Jane were gladdened by the thought of soon being able to dance in the great halls of Netherfield Park; the only difference being that they were overjoyed for different reasons.

  Chapter V

  In which we find that criss-crossing

  during the ball at Netherfield Park

  is not just confined to dancing…

  Nothing appeared to increase Fitzwilliam Darcy’s enthusiasm when he reflected, on several occasions, on the ball given by his friend. At least this is what Miss Bingley noticed, as certain members of the house could not escape her furtive glances. Happy that the sentiments of the master of Pemberley were in tune with hers regarding social events, she was extremely obliging and charming until the distant cousins were presented. These cousins, Mary and Henry Crawford, were the younger sister and brother of Mrs. Grant, whose husband was a relation of Mr. Hurst’s and who also took a noteworthy pleasure in indulging his palate. After a short stay in the capital, they were returning to the parish that had been ceded to Dr. Grant some months ago. And of course, they would be pleased to stop in Hertfordshire on their way to Northamptonshire to visit with their dear Edward and their dear Louise, and why not benefit from the generous invitation extended by Charles Bingley to partake in the ball the following day. Naturally, Mary Crawford, had the perfect attire for an evening such as this. Naturally, this did not please Miss Bingley in the least; however, she had to make a good impression, as several saw the arrival of the young people as a welcome diversion. It must be noted that it had been raining for several days and the atmosphere in the drawing rooms of Netherfield Park was heavy with monotony. Mr. Churchill’s hasty departure to the bedside of his ailing aunt was met with great sorrow. It is for this reason that the arrival of these distant cousins provided for a bit of excitement, even more so because Mr. Willoughby, who had been expected to arrive the day before, had still not presented himself. In short, Miss Crawford managed to cheer up Mr. Hurst, entertain Charles Bingley and pique the curiosity of Mr. Darcy. Her responses always seemed more spirited and original than those of the other young women present. She had the consummate art of attracting attention, particularly that of the gentlemen. It is for this reason t
hat Miss Bingley’s mood gradually worsened as the day progressed and the ball approached and the more Mr. Darcy, in her estimation, ignored her.

  Of course, Miss Crawford had caused the master of Pemberley to smile on numerous occasions, but he very quickly divined the young woman’s game. She was not the first, nor would she be the last, to try her luck with a bachelor such as this; she merely did so with more spirit and humour. While his manservant brought him his clothing, Darcy’s thoughts had taken an entirely different route: he had been presented to John and Fanny Dashwood, who had arrived from Norland Park in Sussex, and he still doubted that Mrs. Dashwood was the sister of Edward Ferrars. How could his friend, who was so timid and humble, possibly have a sister such as this? And then he thought of Charles and Caroline Bingley, and he smiled, despite himself. These two young men, who, while they were both very different, were pleasant to be with, were both saddled with terrible sisters, yes, truly terrible. Fortunately, this was not the case for him. Georgiana… Suddenly overcome with anxiety, he made an unexpected movement that surprised his manservant, who was showing him his shirt.

  ‘Spencer, return in about ten minutes, and then I shall be ready to get dressed.’

  ‘Certainly, Sir.’

  After bowing, the servant quietly left. Darcy went to his desk and took out the last letter from Colonel Fitzwilliam, which was dated just a few days earlier. He quickly skimmed over the usual news: Earl and Lady Matlock were well, the ***th regiment was installed near Dover, Lord *** had once again been the subject of a scandal published in the press… and then his cousin told him that he had spent some time in London and had visited Georgiana. Darcy reread the colonel’s confidences:

  …I was as moved as you were by the misadventures of Georgiana and I still blame myself for not having been more vigilant when we hired Mrs. Younge. Fortunately, the distressing Ramsgate episode is gradually moving further into the past, but Georgiana still appears to be very shaken by what this scoundrel Wickham caused her to endure. Admittedly, she welcomed me with her usual kindness; however, it was apparent to me that her gaze lacked vitality. She is no longer the young girl who I took pleasure in teasing. She is a charming young woman… still aggrieved. However, allow me to reassure you that Mrs. Annesley is an excellent lady companion who carefully watches over our pupil. I left them after having accompanied them to the Museum of…

  Lost in thought, Darcy put the letter back down. Yes, he too found himself shouldering a great deal of the blame for his lack of vigilance, even if he ceaselessly repeated to himself that he had been deliberately duped. How could he have known of the ties between Mrs. Younge and George Wickham? Regardless, his father had entrusted him with Georgiana, and it was his duty to protect her. He closed his eyes for a few moments and felt himself calm down; Georgiana would recover, he simply had to be patient and have faith in her. Were they not connected by a deep affection, particularly since becoming orphans? Very different from the connection between Caroline and Charles Bingley or Fanny and Edward Ferrars. These thoughts comforted him and he vowed to write a letter to his sister tomorrow to inform her of his intention to soon return to London, and to entertain her by recounting the anecdotes that would be sure to arise during the ball. He rang for Spencer, it was high time he prepared himself … to think that this cursed Wickham could already have plunged into the drawing rooms of Netherfield! His mood darkened at this thought, however, he pushed it away: he knew his enemy very well, all smiles and kindness when he wished, but a true coward in the face of adversity. No, of one thing he was certain: Wickham would shine in his absence. A furtive smile returned to his face when, once he was finally ready, he quickly looked at his reflection in the mirror. This evening, he would ask Miss Elizabeth Bennet to dance with him, even though she had refused his invitation when he last asked her. It was not because a charming young woman had a mischievous smile and spirited retorts that she could refuse a partner such as he, was it? And her eyes… he had often noticed how they sparkled. No! He simply wished to dance with her once, and then it would all be over and he would leave for London, where his true life was awaiting him.

  *****

  In announcing to her friends the absence of the charming George Wickham, Lydia Bennet set loose the whirlwind of gossip that was circulating in the area to the left of the entrance to the grand salon, from where it was practically impossible to miss the arrival of guests. Discountenanced faces turned towards the young woman, who herself was extremely disappointed. But there were so many comings and goings that they were soon entranced by the sparkle of a jewel, the elegance of a frock or the style of some adornment.

  ‘I assure you, Susan, that this elegant young lady is a guest connected to the people of Netherfield.’

  ‘How do you know, Kitty?’

  ‘I was near Jane when Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley presented her. Her name is Miss Mary Crawford and over there, the young man smiling is her brother, Henry Crawford.’

  ‘Her dress is splendid,’ declared Penelope Harrington, scrutinising the young woman. ‘And she is so affable! She is so at ease, it is as though she knows everyone.’

  ‘Indeed, several gentlemen have already noticed her,’ exclaimed Lydia, nudging Harriet Long and pointing out three young men who were approaching her, clearly in good spirits.

  ‘Did you see, Kitty, how much she resembles Catherine Morland?’ exclaimed Amy Bates, calling attention to a young woman who was making her entrance on the arm of a tall and timid young man.

  ‘Alas, Catherine returned home the day before yesterday, she was most disappointed at missing the ball,’ confided Kitty.

  ‘Particularly as she had missed the evening at Meryton, when her brother danced with Miss Thorpe,’ the youngest of the Bennets added, maliciously.

  ‘We seem to have missed something rather interesting,’ stated Susan Long, who yearned to know more.

  ‘Who is the couple approaching Mr. Darcy?’ asked her sister Harriet, discretely pointing her closed fan in the direction of where the master of Pemberley was seated.

  ‘Oh! Mother informed me a few minutes ago,’ replied Margaret White, joining the little group. ‘That is Mr. and Mrs. Dashwood, friends of the Hursts. They have come to spend a few days in the area.’

  ‘Did you see Mrs. Dashwood’s attire?’ commented Lydia. ‘One might say that she is wearing an indoor dress to which a complete collection of feathers and ribbons has been added!’

  ‘That may not be to your liking,’ interjected Amy Bates, ‘but it appears that this is the latest fashion.’

  ‘Are you certain?’ insisted Harriet Long, an incredulous look on her charming face.

  ‘I looked through the pages of the latest edition of La Belle Assemblée at Miss Watson’s, and believe it or not, this particular dress was presented on its pages.’

  ‘Well, Amy, if what you say is true, I guarantee that we will not follow this fashion,’ Kitty said, laughing. ‘If I had the choice, I would rather have a dress like the one Miss Bingley is wearing, but I would certainly not like to have her haughty and pompous air!’

  ‘Nor I!’ opined one of the young Harrington ladies.

  All the young women burst into laughter and each one looked at the various guests in search of the dress that she would have liked to wear. As can be ascertained, the conversation was resplendent in its profundity and shrewdness.

  Of course, Mr. Collins had come to claim his rights alongside Elizabeth, who followed him, reluctantly. Now that the string quartet had begun to play, Elizabeth was subject to repeated missteps on the part of her cousin, and tried to avoid the worst. A few times, he moved in the wrong direction, stepped on a young lady’s foot, and collided with another dancer, all while excusing himself countless times. Exasperated, the young woman glanced at her sister, and what she saw caused her to relax somewhat.

  Because gentle Jane opened the ball on the arm of the charming tenant of Netherfield, the fantasies of the women present swelled, particularly in the case of Mrs. Bennet. Miss Benne
t, far from all the commotion, was conversing with Charles Bingley.

  ‘Frank Churchill was most disappointed that he could not be here this evening, but his aunt, who began taking care of him when he was a young child, is very ill.’

  ‘I understand perfectly, Mr. Bingley, and I would have done the same in his stead.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Ever since you had the misfortune, though I do not like to use this word, to have suffered under my roof, I was able to witness the tender affection that unites you and your sister.’

  This barely masked allusion caused the young lady’s face to flush, and she hastened to find a subject less treacherous. This occurred in the form of a handsome young man who bowed before Miss Bingley and who, to Jane’s great surprise, caused her to laugh and even blush.

  ‘Mr. Bingley, who is this guest who seems to be the source of such amusement to your sister?’

  ‘Ah, that is Willoughby. John Willoughby. We found ourselves together in the month of July at Lake Windermere during the regatta between Endeavour and Victory. Obviously, he won his bet, and I lost mine. We’ve seen each other a few times since, in London. We were expecting him mid-afternoon. He must have become lost, which hardly surprises me! There is nobody like him to attract the attention of pretty young women. Caroline finds him terrible because he makes her laugh, all while being very … how can I say …. very mischievous. Beware, Miss Bennet, he is a real charmer.’

  Jane could not help but smile when she saw Miss Bingley, her cheeks flushed, extend her hand to Mr. Willoughby who, without a hint of embarrassment, in full sight of a fair number of the guests, brought it to his lips.

  It was clear that John Willoughby was enjoying himself. He took great pleasure in causing his hostess to react, and his pleasure increased all the more whenever his gaze chanced upon some charming young woman in the arms of an insignificant dance partner, or so he presumed. While he took care to appear captivated by the remarks made by his hostess, nothing of the agreeable spectacle happening behind her escaped his notice. Indeed, it could be agreed that Mary Crawford was attracting looks and also comments. Would this pretty young woman, who was also a stranger, be well received by the women having daughters to be wed? And what could be said about the young women themselves, except that they paled in jealousy behind the protection of their fans. Fortunately, the party in question decided, at the end of the dance, to join Mr. Darcy, who was finishing a discussion with Richard Long, whose estate bordered on Netherfield Park.