Elizabeth Bennet's Impertinent Letter

by J P Christy

  Hesitantly, Fitzwilliam revealed, “The break has not healed as well as I hoped. Often and unpredictably, I experience a sharp pain and weakness in my right arm. Thus, I told my commanding officer I am reluctant to overstate my competence for fear of being in a situation in which a lapse in my abilities would put my men at risk.” The sympathy on her face made him eager to change the subject. “Are you wearing a new dress?”

  “Yes. My year of mourning ended a few weeks ago.”

  Silently cursing himself, he stammered, “Oh … of course. Please forgive me, I—”

  Placing her hand lightly on his arm, she said, “You must not feel embarrassed about moments such as this. We are friends.” Do you recall as I do the confidences we exchanged late at night on the deck of the Zephyrus? We appeared to be two ordinary fellows on a ship, but our conversations were so much more.

  Smiling, Fitzwilliam covered her hand with his. She returned his smile but, upon feeling a shiver of shyness, she gently pulled her hand away and changed the topic. “Before you left for Rosings, you spoke of a problem at an army stables, that horses had been sickened. Did you find the purveyor of this dubious medicine?”

  “Ah, yes, Dr. Nicoll’s tonic with the impossibly long name. All is back to normal at the army’s stables but, interestingly, I found another bottle at Rosings and a third at a small estate in Hertfordshire. In both cases, the contents had been discarded.”

  “Yet the bottles were kept. Why?”

  “The tonic was a gift from my Aunt Catherine’s fool of a parson, a Mr. Collins, who is quick to feel slighted by those he considers beneath him. Apparently, the bottles were kept for display.”

  “What connection does the parson have to the army’s stables?”

  “None that I can find. When I told Collins of the tonic’s ill effects, he became highly offended, insisting he could not recall where he obtained the bottles. As I am essentially on leave until I am fully recovered, I have been given permission to investigate. My hope is to find this Dr. Nicoll and prevent him from doing

  further damage to his unwitting customers. Can you imagine if a child got hold of this poison?”

  “A cupid and an investigator! You will be a busy man for the foreseeable future.”

  “And what of you? What are your plans?”

  “Happy news! My brother’s wife is increasing. Thus, we are all going to Cornwall for the summer, for fresh air and a calm setting, to ensure Gwen remains healthy and well rested.” After a brief hesitation, Lady Penelope added, “She is somewhat fearful regarding her condition.”

  “I expect that is normal.”

  “May I tell you a secret? But I ask that you do not repeat it.”

  “You may tell me anything.”

  She began hesitantly. “This is not an appropriate topic to discuss with a gentleman, but it has been much on my mind, and I cannot speak of it with anyone else. A few days after my husband was killed, I suffered a miscarriage. It occurred early in my … time, but I have wondered whether there might be something unhealthy about me.”

  Fitzwilliam took her hand and simply let it rest on his palm. He remembered well the hopes, concerns, and confidences they had shared on the Zephyrus—such intimate conversations. Wisely, he knew she was not asking for advice; she simply wanted to speak her fear to a friend.

  After several silent moments, she gave a small smile and shrugged. “Of course, there is no reason for me to worry about something that is out of my hands.”

  “No, no reason to worry. When you are off to Cornwall?”

  “We have not fixed a date, but soon I think we will leave for Castle Fal, the family estate.”

  “On the River Fal, perhaps?” Fitzwilliam asked. Laughing, she nodded. He said, “Those weeks I was at Rosings were the longest time I had spent without seeing you—I mean, without joining you and my mother—for tea. With you in Cornwall and me in Hertfordshire, who knows when we shall meet again. I confess that in some ways, I feel I know you as well as any soldier with whom I have served. Yet, there is much about you that I don’t know—such as how you met your late husband or what your life was like in Spain. While some might consider such inquiries inappropriate, not the sort of confidences shared by a lady and a gentleman of casual acquaintance, I cannot think of you as—”

  “As a casual acquaintance,” she finished. “I share your feeling and will be sad to lose your good company this summer.”

  “Let us agree, my lady—no, let us agree, Master Penn—not to sacrifice our friendship on the altar of silly societal conventions.”

  “Nicely expressed, sir, with such charming pa—” She abruptly interrupted herself with a small cough before continuing, “With such charming panache.” She had almost praised his “charming passion,” but the choice of word embarrassed her, so she quickly chose another.

  “A competent officer understands the power of melodramatic statements—in small doses, of course, and at the right moment.” Taking a slip of paper from his pocket, Fitzwilliam offered it to her. “As I do not know how long I shall be in Hertfordshire, I wish for you to have my direction there. Should you need to contact me, please have your brother write me at Netherfield.”

  Delighted that he wanted to share this information, Lady Penelope took the slip of paper. “Thank you. And any missive to Falmouth that includes ‘Castle Fal’ in the direction will reach us.” She gave Fitzwilliam a mischievous smile. “I do not know whether I should wish you luck in your role or wish luck on the friends who will receive your ministrations.”

  “In that case, perhaps you should wish luck on all of us.” He relaxed into his chair, and the two sat in companionable silence until Lady Fitzwilliam concluded her musical performance.

  ≈≈≈

  May 20, 1811

  At half past eight in the morning, Bingley arrived at Darcy House. While everyone’s luggage was loaded into his carriage, and Georgiana’s horse was tethered beside his at the rear of the vehicle, Bingley paced around his fellow travelers. To no one in particular, he said, “I do not know what sort of reception we will receive after having been gone from the neighborhood for so many months. Leaving, especially in such an abrupt manner, was a terrible mistake.”

  Georgiana leaned forward and assured him in a conspiratorial manner. “I promise you, sir, several of us here have made dreadful mistakes in the name of love.”

  An anxious Darcy felt frozen in place, praying that his sister did not mention Wickham. As usual, Fitzwilliam eased the tension. “If my young niece were not present, I could bring you to tears with tales of foolishness in affairs of the heart—not my foolishness, of course, but stories of other men.”

  Bingley laughed. “No doubt you would count me amongst the fools you know.”

  “Surely not!” Darcy exclaimed, worried that any foolishness Bingley might claim could be applied to himself as well.

  “Yes, sir, I do,” Fitzwilliam replied simultaneously. “But what matters is what a man does after acting foolishly.”

  “That is also what matters for a woman,” Georgiana declared.

  Fitzwilliam asked, “Darcy, what will you do in Hertfordshire?”

  “As Bingley said, the place offers good riding and shooting.”

  “Is there no one you wish to see?” Fitzwilliam asked.

  “What?” Darcy stood very still.

  “Miss Elizabeth, perhaps?” Georgiana said. “You do recall promising to introduce me?”

  Bless you, Georgiana, now I do not need to mention her name, Fitzwilliam thought.

  “Of course, you will meet Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley said. “She and Miss Jane are particularly close. They are delightful ladies, although no one surpasses my Jane.”

  Darcy considered his friend from under a raised eyebrow. She is not your Jane yet—and while Miss Jane is lovely, no one compares to my Elizabeth. Then another thought intruded: She is not my Elizabeth … yet.

  Georgiana tugged on her brother’s elbow and gestured him to step away from the others. I
n a low voice, she asked, “You are pleased to be returning to Netherfield, are you not?”

  “Yes. Pleased to help Bingley regain the good favor of Miss Jane Bennet and pleased to cheer you on as you perform your hostess duties brilliantly.” And hopeful that Miss Elizabeth Bennet is not displeased to see me, he thought.

  As they returned to the group, Bingley was asking, “Do you still prefer to ride rather than join us, Colonel?”

  “It’s too fine a day to be shut up in a coach,” he replied.

  Within a quarter hour, Fitzwilliam was mounted on Laird and riding ahead of the Darcy and Bingley coaches as the party bound for Netherfield made its way out of London. Darcy and Georgiana sat side by side facing Mrs. Annesley and Bingley.

  When their coach finally reached the turnpike and turned toward Hertfordshire, Bingley sighed. “I have thought until my brain hurts, yet I cannot imagine how to convince Miss Bennet that I am not the most heartless cad in England.” Addressing Mrs. Annesley, he said, “Jane Bennet is an angel. Although I made her no promises, my attentions to her were noted in her neighborhood. Then, when business took me to London, my sisters convinced me that Miss Bennet cared for me only as a friend. I abandoned the lady rather than learn the truth for myself.”

  Although Darcy’s expression remained neutral, he felt shame for deceiving both his friend and Jane Bennet. After the night when he described her to Georgiana, he found himself recalling small details about the lady’s smiles and gentle manners, and each recollection added to his regret.

  Mrs. Annesley gave Bingley an encouraging smile. “I sense a genuine contrition in you, which is the right place to begin if you have wronged someone.”

  “While it would be truthful to say my sisters convinced me not to return to Netherfield, that would not be the whole truth.”

  Is he going to reveal my deception to my employee? Darcy wondered with some alarm. He admired Mrs. Annesley and wanted her to think well of him.

  “The whole truth,” Bingley continued, “is that I allowed myself to be influenced. It was the behavior of a boy who fears making a mistake; it was not the behavior of a gentleman. Thus, I cannot simply look into Miss Bennet’s eyes and say, ‘I am a better man now. Put your trust in me, and this time I will not fail you.’”

  “Why not?” Darcy asked. “Why not say that very thing?”

  “Because without actions to prove the words, the lady may fear you take her for a fool,” Georgiana said softly. “I have learned to listen to actions.”

  Mrs. Annesley leaned forward and patted Georgiana’s knee. “Take pride in learning from your errors, my dear. This is not to say there is no place for trust—or saltus fidei, a leap of faith—it often takes time to determine whether words are merely words.”

  Bingley, wearing a wry smile, shook his head. “If only you could see the muddle in my mind. Half the time I am rehearsing my apology, hoping Miss Bennet will forgive me, and the other half I am picturing the future that I dream we will share.”

  ≈≈≈

  The London party arrived at Netherfield Park in midday. As their carriage rolled up to the portico, Darcy exclaimed, “Bingley, kindly take a breath and calm yourself! You are as eager as a hound at the hunt.”

  “My angel is but three miles away. It’s unbearable!” Before the carriage came to a complete stop, he jumped out and bounded up the steps to where Norris, the butler, and Mrs. Pimset, the housekeeper, waited at the front door to welcome their new employer and his guests.

  As Fitzwilliam dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to a waiting groom, Darcy exited the coach and handed out Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley. The four followed Bingley up the stairs, arriving in time to hear him introduce himself. Darcy hoped that some tea or brandy would calm his friend, and if Bingley did not make such a request, Darcy decided to do so for him.

  In Fitzwilliam’s opinion, Mrs. Pimset did a better job of disguising her shock than did Norris when Bingley stood between them and placed an arm around the shoulders of each. “Kindly excuse me, but I am a man with a mission. As neither of you was in residence last year during my sister Caroline’s reign of terror, I realize my guests and myself are unknown to you. Thus, I present Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, Mrs. Annesley, and Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  Norris’s relief was unmistakable when Bingley removed his arm. Bowing to the guests, he said, “Welcome to Netherfield.”

  Bingley continued, “My mission requires me be elsewhere. Thus, I leave it to you to ensure my dear friends are fed well and made comfortable.”

  “Yes, sir,” Norris said. Mrs. Pimset nodded, pleased to find that this enthusiastic young man was far nicer than the sister she had heard about.

  To his guests, Bingley said, “If all goes well, I shall be home late. My apologies for my dreadful behavior, but the mission comes first.” After saluting each of them in turn, he saluted Mrs. Pimset and Norris. The butler hesitated but then saluted back. Chuckling, Bingley ran down the steps and headed for the stables.

  “Wouldn’t you like to freshen up, sir?” Mrs. Pimset called.

  “Can’t take the time.” Bingley’s voice was faint with distance.

  Turning to the guests, Mrs. Pimset asked, “I will show your to your rooms now. Shall I serve nuncheon in an hour?”

  Seeing the others nod, Darcy spoke for all. “Yes, thank you.”

  As Mrs. Pimset led the guests up the stairs to the bedrooms, Georgiana exchanged amused glances with Mrs. Annesley, saying, “I find Mr. Bingley’s behavior quite romantic.”

  Although he wished he had the confidence to follow Bingley, Darcy said, “I find it quite rude.”

  “With friends, some rudeness is permitted,” Fitzwilliam said.

  “I doubt Miss Bennet will be impressed. Surprised, most certainly, but impressed? What do you think, Mrs. Annesley?” Darcy asked.

  “In truth, we women tend to appreciate it when a man is willing to be a bit overeager for the sake of expressing his regard.”

  ≈≈≈

  Even before Bingley reached the open gate at Longbourn’s rock-paved drive, he saw Jane and Elizabeth in the little wilderness at the side of the house. Jane’s back was to him, so Elizabeth saw him first. At the sound of his horse’s hooves striking the rocks, Jane started to turn, but her sister grabbed her arms. “Do not look; let me tell you first. Mr. Bingley has come.”

  Jane gasped. “It has been nearly six months! What is he—? Is he well? Does he look as if he has been ill or injured or .…”

  “Stupid,” she replied through clenched teeth, glaring as the gentleman dismounted and approached. Jane pulled out of her sister’s grasp, smoothed her dress, and turned slowly to face him.

  You are even lovelier than I remember, Bingley thought. Were it not for the sadness in Jane’s eyes, he might have thought her indifferent, but he was certain now she had truly missed him.

  Suspecting that casual conversation was beyond Jane’s ability at the moment, Elizabeth stepped forward. “My goodness, is it you, Mr. Bingley, after so many, many months? What has brought you back to Hertfordshire, sir? Why, it has been ages!”

  In an instant, Bingley’s complexion was as red as Jane’s was pale. He bowed. “I have no plan at this moment beyond making my heartfelt apology for deserting my friends in Hertfordshire. And I will repeat my apology often throughout my stumbling conversation if you ladies will permit me to stay for a little while.”

  “Very well.” Elizabeth linked arms with Jane, and they looked at him expectantly.

  Bingley cleared his throat. “I am deeply sorry to have been gone for so long, Miss Bennet. I have thought of you every day. Although I do not expect your forgiveness, I hope for it—once I have demonstrated my remorse and my sincerity.” He bowed again, more deeply than the first time. When he straightened, he saw Jane had turned her back to him. He looked to Elizabeth as if to ask, What do I do now? She raised one hand with her palm facing him, Wait.

  Although it was less than half a minute before Jane spoke, it felt much l
onger. With her back to him, she asked, “Have you just arrived in the neighborhood?”

  “Yes.”

  “We had heard Netherfield Park was being opened, but we had no expectation of seeing you. When I was in London recently, your sisters led me to believe that the Bingleys were not interested in maintaining a relationship with the Bennets.”

  “I am very sorry about Caroline’s rudeness to you, Miss Bennet. She is currently in Scarborough with our aunt, while Louisa and Mr. Hurst remain in London. I have invited none of them to join me here. In fact, I have forbidden them from entering the county.” After a moment, he added, “I have also forbidden them from interfering in my life.”

  At that, Jane turned to face Bingley, and his heart ached at the sight of her cheeks damp with tears. Without thinking, he stepped forward, reaching for her hands. “I am so very sorry.”

  Elizabeth quickly put herself between the two. “I suggest we have a bit more conversation and a few more heartfelt apologies before you attempt such familiarity with my sister.”

  Seeing Jane hide a smile behind her hand, Bingley sensed her sister’s warning had lessened some of her distress. “Certainly,” he said. “I, um, I … ah, here’s a topic. I did not return alone. I have brought only amiable people of good character and pleasing conversation, and I am not related to any of them. I hope you find this reassuring.” Jane smiled openly at him.

  “Have you made new friends with whom to dazzle us, sir?” Elizabeth asked.

  “So that I may welcome the good people of Meryton to Netherfield, I have brought Miss Georgiana Darcy to serve as my hostess. She is accompanied by her companion, a Mrs. Annesley, and her two guardians, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy.”

  Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth mentally said the gentleman’s name at the same time Bingley did. Oh dear, oh dear! I never thought this day would come.

  “But they did not choose to visit us?” Jane asked, wondering if there was a rejection in this.

  “I gave them no choice in the matter. Our carriage arrived no more than half an hour ago, and after leaving my friends in the hands of a Mr. Norris and a Mrs. Pimset, I rode directly here. When an apology is as overdue as mine, one ought not to delay.