by K C Kahler
“We seem to be keeping you from your letter, Darcy. Just say the word, and we shall endeavour to be silent. Though, really, you can always go wherever Hurst goes to write his many letters.”
“Not at all. I was enjoying the discussion, I assure you.”
Bingley looked at him strangely. “All this talk of Christmas and children must remind you of Georgiana.”
“Yes, it does, in a way. Though Georgiana cannot remain a child, much as I might wish her to.” Darcy heard the wistfulness in his own voice. He had not meant to sound so morose. Miss Elizabeth caught him in the compassion of her gaze, and he could hardly tear himself away when Miss Bingley spoke to him.
“Perhaps you wish her to remain a child, but I am sure dear Georgiana cannot wait to be out in society, going to balls and dinner parties. What young lady would not wish for that?”
For all her assertions that she and Georgiana were “dear friends,” Miss Bingley knew nothing of his sister. Georgiana had been dreading coming out even before last summer’s disaster. Now she was positively terrified.
“Lizzy was very reluctant to come out, I remember,” offered Miss Bennet. “What was it you said, Lizzy? Why should you talk to other gentlemen when none of them could say anything half as witty as Papa nor half as outrageous as John Lucas?” Darcy tried not to flinch.
Miss Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, I wished to remain a rambunctious girl. Then Papa told me that if I came out, he would finally have someone sensible to talk to in company. Flattery was the surest way to convince me. So out I went.”
“And Charlotte and I were glad to have you with us. You must admit that you enjoyed it the very first night. And you absolutely adored dancing. You still do!”
“Yes, I suppose I am not quite as unique as I fancied myself.” She stood up tentatively. “Now I think I should start my long journey upstairs and rest a bit before I make the return trip for dinner. Mr Darcy will have one less person to distract him from his letter. Excuse me.” She curtseyed with surprising grace and limped towards the door.
“Wait, Lizzy, I shall help you.” Miss Bennet took her sister’s arm, and they walked on together. Before they left the room, Miss Bennet threw a glance back in Darcy’s direction. She need not have bothered; he would have acted regardless.
He waited a moment or two and then began gathering his papers. “I believe I shall retire to my rooms to finish this letter. Excuse me.”
Darcy strode into the hallway to find the Miss Bennets nearing the stairs. Miss Elizabeth appeared as if she would stubbornly climb them herself.
“Might I offer some assistance, Miss Elizabeth?”
She stiffened and shot her sister an accusatory glare. “I suppose this already was arranged between you. Why should you ask me?”
“Lizzy, please be a little more gracious. You know you cannot climb these steps in your condition.”
Miss Elizabeth looked as if she might argue the point, but then she sighed. “I am sorry. This is very frustrating. I thank you for your trouble, Mr Darcy, particularly for keeping these uh, measures as…covert as possible.”
“It is no trouble. And the others need not know the extent of your incapacitation.” Both young ladies smiled at him, one appreciative and one reluctant. “Miss Bennet, if I may ask you to hold these papers for me…”
“Yes, of course.”
Darcy positioned himself and Miss Elizabeth waited with an air of resignation. And then he was carrying her light and pleasing figure up the stairs. He paced himself to prolong the experience.
Miss Bennet began a polite conversation. “Mr Hurst seems to write very many letters. Are they all business matters?”
“No. Believe it or not, he and his mother exchange letters every few days.” Darcy had never quite grasped how a man like Hurst could have such a close relationship with his mother.
Miss Elizabeth giggled. When Darcy caught her eye, she blushed crimson. “Pardon me.”
“You simply must share whatever thought amused you.”
“Well…I was wondering what he could write about so often.”
“And did any ideas occur to you?”
“Yes. I think Mr Hurst must send his mother a complete account of every meal served to him, course by course.”
Darcy could not help the laughter that escaped him, and Miss Bennet joined in. All too soon, he was in Miss Elizabeth’s room, and he had to release her.
He turned to Miss Bennet. “Shall I come half an hour before dinner?”
“Yes, thank you so much, Mr Darcy.” She returned his letters to him.
Miss Elizabeth let out a sound of exasperation. “I am right here, and I can hear you, you know.”
“I know very well, Lizzy. I also know that you wish to eat dinner in company tonight. You will have to endure my interference, for I shall not let you attempt those stairs by yourself.” Miss Bennet could be stern with the proper motivation—that of an obstinate, sulking sister.
Darcy bowed to them with a smirk. Back in his own room, he read over what he had already written to Anne and began writing again.
I cannot imagine how you endure seeing your C. so often. It has been only two days since I realised the depth of my feelings for L. and I can hardly control myself. I am delighted with every new revelation about her, enthralled by her every expression. What sorrow yet what relief I shall feel when I leave this place, and her, behind. Then perhaps it will be easier to recall why she is unsuitable.
A knock on the door interrupted Darcy. “Enter.”
Bingley came in and shut the door behind him. He appeared decidedly uneasy. “Darcy, I…well, I wanted to make you an offer.”
Darcy raised his eyebrows in unspoken inquiry.
“You seem…I am not sure how to describe it, but…I offer myself as a good listener. Heaven knows you have listened to me drone on about my problems and have given me much good advice. I know you are not comfortable exposing your feelings to others, and I do not wish to pry but… You seemed to overcome whatever difficulties worried you this summer, but now you are even less…yourself.” Bingley held his palms up, signalling his inability to express himself any better.
Darcy paused to collect his thoughts. “I thank you, Bingley. I cannot…that is, talking about what troubles me would not be best. But I appreciate your concern. Is my melancholy so obvious?”
“Is it melancholy? Sometimes you seem quite gleeful but then an air of despair follows, and then, of course, your typical indifference covers all.” Bingley was more perceptive than Darcy had assumed. “Do not worry yourself. It is perhaps not obvious to those who do not know you as I do.”
“Good, good. I do not wish to lay my troubles open for all to see.” Darcy knew not what else to say.
Bingley studied him for a long moment. “Forgive me, I must ask this. You are not… That is to say, you do not…admire Miss Bennet, do you?”
“Miss Jane Bennet?” Darcy could not keep the surprise from his voice. “I think her an admirable young lady, of course. But I do not, you know, admire her.” This conversation was very uncomfortable.
Bingley’s relief was palpable. “Right, right. Well, I have kept you from your letter again. My offer stands, if you should reconsider.” He already had the door open, seeming eager to remove himself from all this awkward hesitance. Then he was gone, and Darcy was left alone. He was already looking forward to dinner and the trip downstairs in particular.
“Hurry up! Your precious Fordyce extract will wait.” Lydia had been waiting to go to Netherfield for two days, and she would not wait another minute. “If you dare say something about patience being a virtue, Mary, I shall scream.”
Kitty snickered. “You are very nearly screaming already.”
Mary hid a grin, which only angered Lydia more. “You are delaying us on purpose! How can you do that to poor Mr Collins? You know he has many calls to make before he leaves tomorrow.” Lydia could not care less about Mr Collins. In fact, after two days with him at Longbourn without the protective p
resence of Jane and Lizzy, she was ready to haul his trunk out to the carriage herself.
“Lydia, I can stop my work any time, but Mama was not yet ready to leave.”
“She is ready now, so put your pen down this instant.”
The tumult of four pelisses and four bonnets being donned soon followed. Mr Bennet came into the entryway. “Must you take all the girls with you? You do not want to overtax Mr Bingley’s hospitality.”
“Mr Bennet, I shall not be moved on this. You have insisted we not visit Jane and Lizzy for two days, and so we have not. But now Mr Collins must take his leave of the Bingleys and the Philipses. You would not deprive my sister of a visit from her nieces, would you?”
“Very well, but heed this, Mrs Bennet: under no circumstances are you to cajole or accept an invitation for any of our other daughters to stay at Netherfield.”
“Yes, yes. I shall do as you say, but it is really quite vexing. You have no consideration for my nerves!”
“Papa, please let us go now.” Lydia feared her mother’s pouting would soon lead to a full-blown attack of “nerves.” Then she would never get to Netherfield!
“Off you all go then. I shall not be accused of depriving Hertfordshire of Mr Collins’s proper farewells. Give my regards to Jane and Lizzy.”
Mr Collins droned on and on during the carriage ride. Thankfully, just as he paused for breath, Kitty turned to Lydia and asked loudly, “I wonder what news Aunt Philips will have of the officers today. It has been too long since we’ve seen Denny and Saunderson, has it not?”
“I suppose. They are great fun.” Lydia had an entirely different gentleman on her mind.
Kitty nodded. “Much more fun than dull old Mr Darcy. I do not see how you endured an entire day with him. At least Mr Bingley—”
“He is not dull! He is distinguished!” Lydia glared at Kitty. “You would not understand.”
“I must agree with Cousin Lydia on this matter. Mr Darcy is a gentleman of great eminence. Lady Catherine has told me much about her illustrious nephew, his estate in Derbyshire, and his house in town. For example…”
Kitty whispered, “Now you have got him started again, you ninny.”
Lydia wished Mr Collins would give even more details. For the first time since making his acquaintance, Lydia found herself in complete concurrence of opinion with her cousin. Mary listened to all that was said with her usual air of detachment, while Kitty began humming quietly. They soon arrived at Netherfield. Lydia would not have to settle for second-hand information anymore; she could see the man himself! She nearly leapt from the carriage. It was a pity it had begun to rain lightly; she would not be able to walk with Mr Darcy through the gardens now.
The footman went to announce them. After a few moments, Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst came from the back of the house, followed by Lizzy, who was limping and leaning on Jane’s arm. Lydia felt a pang of guilt at the sight of her. But then she remembered Lizzy had been rewarded with a stay at Netherfield, making her pursuit of Mr Bingley that much easier.
Miss Bingley greeted them in a manner that seemed outwardly friendly but still made Lydia want to pinch her. “How wonderful for Miss Eliza to see all her sisters. And Mr Collins too! Please do come into the drawing room. It is more spacious than the sitting room.”
Soon everyone was settled in the drawing room.
“Miss Bingley,” began Mrs Bennet, “the purpose of our visit today is twofold. First, we wished to check on our dear Lizzy. And second, Mr Collins wishes to bid farewell to your party, as he will be leaving us tomorrow.”
“Indeed, Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, let me express my great delight in making your acquaintance. Your company throughout my stay has been a great joy, and your hospitality, particularly towards dear Cousin Elizabeth at the time of her injury, has been most generous.”
Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst replied in kind, though again, Lydia detected that vague sense of superiority from them.
“Mr Collins hoped to take his leave of Mr Bingley, Mr Hurst, and Mr Darcy, as well,” said Mrs Bennet. “Are they out today?”
Miss Bingley looked towards the window. “They went shooting after luncheon, but I suspect they will return soon due to the rain.” Lydia hoped very much for that to be true. This visit would be pointless if she did not see Mr Darcy.
Miss Bingley continued, “Poor Mr Darcy. I had hoped he could at least find some amusement in sport. Not much else here in Hertfordshire interests him, you know.”
Mrs Hurst turned towards Mr Collins to explain. “He is here to help my brother with estate matters.”
Miss Bingley chimed in again, “Oh yes, how very generous he is, giving up London’s superior society to lend his expertise to Charles.”
Mr Collins nodded in vigorous agreement. “I suspect Mr Darcy is much like his aunt in this respect. I shall tell Lady Catherine in what great esteem her nephew is held by his friends.”
“Indeed, Mr Darcy is our family’s most valued friend. I hope Charles learns quickly as I am sure Mr Darcy longs to return to the people and places he prefers.”
Lydia could not let this go on. “He enjoyed the picnic well enough, and our walk the other day. The entire outing was his idea.”
Miss Bingley smiled. “One must find amusement where one can.” Oh, what Lydia would not give for just one good pinch!
As Lydia contemplated how to respond, Lizzy joined the discussion. “I suppose one must. My sisters and I are pleased Mr Darcy chose to spend his leisure time with us for the day.”
Well done, Lizzy! Lydia must ask her how to do that—how to say something civil, but in such a way that the meaning was actually sharp and insulting. She could see how such a skill would be useful in dealing with the likes of Miss Bingley. Lizzy was the only one who could instruct her—Jane was too good, Mary too pious, and Mrs Bennet too awed by finery and elegant manners. Kitty lacked any insight at all into the hidden significance of conversations. If you wanted Kitty to catch your meaning, you had to tell her directly.
Lydia’s thoughts had distracted her from following the conversation, but it now centred on Lizzy’s recovery and how she and Jane had spent their days at Netherfield. Lydia scarcely believed that Lizzy had eaten only one meal, last night’s dinner, with the Netherfield party. How could she waste such a wonderful opportunity to catch Mr Bingley? If Lydia had stayed at Netherfield, her quarry would not have escaped so easily.
Footsteps in the hallway indicated that the quarry had returned. Bless the rain!
Mr Bingley burst into the room. “How delightful to see you all! Please excuse my dishevelled appearance, but I wished to greet you immediately. Darcy and Hurst will be along after they’ve righted themselves a bit.”
A round of polite conversation followed. It was an absolute bore to Lydia. Finally, Mr Hurst and Mr Darcy entered, the latter looking the perfect gentleman, despite being caught in the rain. Yet more civil greetings were exchanged, and the two gentlemen seated themselves.
Mr Hurst surprised Lydia by speaking. “Mrs Bennet, your daughter must be greatly comforted by a visit from her mother. I take it you have inspected Miss Elizabeth’s progress?”
“Indeed I have, sir,” was her answer. “She is yet too injured to be removed. We must trespass a little longer on Mr Bingley’s kindness.”
“Removed!” cried Mr Bingley. “It must not be thought of. My sister and I shall not hear of her removal.”
Mrs Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments before adding, “You have a sweet room here, Mr Bingley, and a charming prospect over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, even though you have but a short lease.”
“Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he, “and therefore, if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.”
“That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” said Elizabeth.
/>
“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” cried Mr Bingley, turning towards her.
“Oh yes, I understand you perfectly.” Perhaps Lizzy was flirting a bit—though surely not enough in Lydia’s opinion.
“I wish I might take this for a compliment, but to be so easily seen through, I am afraid, is pitiful.”
“That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”
“I did not know that you were a studier of character, Miss Elizabeth. It must be an amusing study.”
“Yes, but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage.”
“The country,” said Mr Darcy, “can, in general, supply but few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood, you move in a very confined and unvarying society.” Lydia could not abide Miss Bingley’s barely concealed sneer.
“But people themselves alter so much that there is something new to be observed in them forever,” replied Elizabeth.
“Oh yes!” cried Lydia, wanting to have a part in the rapid conversation. “We are constantly surprised by people we have known for our entire lives. Why, who could have thought that Jacob Goulding would run off with the governess?”
Lydia thought too late that perhaps it was not yet proper to speak of the incident.
Kitty, at least, saw no impropriety in the subject, which did not reassure Lydia. “La! I’d almost forgotten about jowly Jacob Goulding! But surely the militia coming is the most exciting event to happen in Meryton since then.” Kitty looked at Mr Bingley. “Well, and your party’s arrival, I suppose,” she added.
“Yes, we have had excellent company this autumn! And my girls are so popular with the officers, much as I once was.” Lord, Lydia hoped Mrs Bennet would not tell one of those stories.
“Mama, has Charlotte Lucas been to Longbourn since Jane and I came away?” asked Elizabeth suddenly.
“Yes, she called yesterday with her father. The Lucases are very good sort of girls. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain—but then she is our particular friend.”
