by Jann Rowland
That was not to say they spent all their time at home and never went out. There were several events for them to attend, including dinners, parties, a music recital or two, and even a poetry reading. Lady Anne confided to Elizabeth a week into their stay that the number of invitations they received far exceeded those they accepted.
“The Darcy family has ever been prominent, though perhaps not a large clan. Throughout the years, my son’s ancestors amassed many connections to members of higher society, and while never peers themselves, there are few families who are not eager to curry favor with the Darcys.”
“I had no idea your family was so prestigious, Lady Anne,” said Elizabeth, a feeling of being overwhelmed settling over her.
Lady Anne smiled. “There is no reason you would have been aware. Our status is well known in society, but my son, as you have likely already apprehended, is not enamored of attention and attempts to avoid it whenever he can. It has, at times, given him the reputation of being above his company, but the reality is he has no patience for those who are eager to rise in society.”
It was a brief conversation, but one which gave Elizabeth much on which to think. Though she still, in general, disapproved of Mr. Darcy’s behavior while in Hertfordshire, for the first time, Elizabeth began to wonder if it was not understandable. Memories of her mother, eager to meet and capture wealthy gentlemen for her daughters coupled with those of the neighborhood’s denizens whispering gossip about the two gentlemen returned, and Elizabeth wondered if Mr. Darcy put up with this kind of behavior whenever he was in society.
About ten days after their arrival in town, Lady Anne introduced the Bennet sisters to Mr. Darcy’s closest titled relations—Lady Anne’s immediate family. While it might be supposed would anticipate such a portentous introduction with a certain feeling of intimidation, it was just the opposite. Their acquaintance with Lady Anne had taught them the Fitzwilliams, if no one else, were people of little false superiority.
“So, these are the sisters of whom you spoke, Anne,” said Lady Susan, when they had been introduced. “They are, indeed, as pretty as you had led me to believe. With your assistance, they will be the talk of the season.”
Jane, as was her wont when anyone spoke of her in such flattering terms, blushed to the roots of her hair. Elizabeth was no less embarrassed by the obvious praise, but as she had always possessed more self-confidence than Jane, she weathered it better. Trying to ignore the discomfort which hovered about the back of her mind, she took stock of Lady Susan, noting her tall stature and stately air, though tempered with true good humor and an affectionate manner. Though she was likely ten years Mrs. Bennet’s senior, if not more, she was a handsome woman, one who Elizabeth thought had been a beauty of some note in her youth.
“Come, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth—let us sit for a time and become better acquainted, for I am eager to discover what has interested my sister so.”
“Perhaps she has taken pity on us,” replied Elizabeth, her tone more than a little bold. “The Bennets have been buried in Hertfordshire since before the flood—I know nothing remarkable about us.”
Lady Susan laughed, far from being offended by Elizabeth’s jest. “It seems to me you are an impertinent one, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Only when meeting personages of great standing,” said Elizabeth. “I find that it is brought out by every attempt to intimidate me and serves to shore up my courage.”
“Then you may put your impertinence away,” said Lady Susan, still shaking her head and laughing. “Intimidating you is the furthest thing from my thoughts; I hope you do not find me at all frightening.”
“For myself, no,” replied Elizabeth, sneaking a look at Jane, who was watching the banter with interest and, perhaps, a little trepidation. “In your world perhaps it is commonplace, but where I was raised, it is not every day one meets the wife of an earl.”
“Oh? Your words intimate you have met the wife of an earl before.”
“You are incorrect, your ladyship. Until today, I have only ever made the acquaintance of the daughter of an earl.”
Again, the ladies laughed at Elizabeth’s sally. “Then, now that we have passed this formidable introduction, let us speak easily. And as for deference, Lady Susan will do—I have no desire to weave my way around ‘your ladyship’ every thirty seconds.”
“Very well,” said Elizabeth.
Their time with the countess was educational to the Bennet sisters, for in her they found a woman well aware of her position in society, but not full of that position. In many respects, she was much like Lady Anne, though she was a more open sort of character, whereas Lady Anne often tended toward a hint of the reserve so often displayed by Mr. Darcy. She was a skillful interrogator, able to winnow out their dearest secrets—or so it seemed—learning much about them both in the short time they sat together. Elizabeth decided she liked the countess very well, for she made herself easy to esteem by her interest and her manners, which were fine.
As the conversation began to wane, presaging their imminent departure, they were interrupted by the arrival of a young man, perhaps Mr. Darcy’s age or a little older. He was not as handsome as the aforementioned gentleman, though not deficient, stood taller, broader of shoulders, and wearing the uniform of an officer. The way he looked at them suggested he had advance notice of their coming, and his interested glances informed Elizabeth he had a keen desire to know them.
“Mother, Aunt,” greeted he, bussing their cheeks. Then he turned to Georgiana and said; “Well, Sprite, you are growing taller every time I see you!”
“Oh, Anthony,” said Georgiana with a laugh. “I am eighteen now, you know. I do not know why you persist in referring to me with such nicknames.”
“It is because, to me, you will ever be that eight-year-old girl who begged me to carry her on my back.” The man winked and laughed along with his cousin, who shook her head and mock glared at him. Then he turned his attention to Jane and Elizabeth.
“Might I beg an introduction to your lovely guests?”
“By your words, I might have thought you surprised to see them here,” said Lady Susan. “However, I remember informing you of our visitors today.”
“Mother!” exclaimed the man, Anthony. “Do not inform them of my earlier knowledge! How shall I now convince one of them that I am overwhelmed by their beauty and hopelessly in love?”
Elizabeth laughed and cried: “I do not know if I should be flattered or fearful for my virtue.”
“Concerned, most assuredly,” said Georgiana sotto voce.
They all laughed again, though this time it was the man showing his cousin a mock glare. Lady Susan shook her head and addressed Elizabeth and Jane.
“Though I am not at all certain I should, I suppose there is nothing to be done. Anthony, these are Anne’s guests, Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Jane, Elizabeth, this scalawag is my son, Colonel Anthony Fitzwilliam. Usually, he is better behaved, but there are times like this when I wonder if he is not fit to sleep in the stables. Or perhaps the kennels.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. “If you do not recall, Mother, Darcy and I attempted that when we were children.”
“Perhaps we should have made it a permanent arrangement,” said Lady Anne. “I do not think you could have turned out less well behaved.”
“Enough, Aunt Anne! You are ruining my image to these lovely ladies!”
“I rather think you have already done that yourself,” said Elizabeth.
“Corrupted already!” cried Colonel Fitzwilliam with a certain dramatic flair. “Another set of young ladies forewarned and forearmed against me. Whatever shall I do?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam’s wink shattered any attempt to lament, firming Elizabeth’s opinion of the gentleman as an incorrigible flirt. When he sat down to speak with them without the histrionics, Elizabeth learned he was an interesting man, albeit with a streak of teasing which rivaled her own. Entertaining, too, for everything he said was said with animation and ve
rve, such that Elizabeth wondered if he had missed his calling in life.
“I must own to rarely being entertained so well,” said Elizabeth when they rose to depart. “It may be best if you were to leave the regulars and join a theater troupe, sir, for you seem to have a gift!”
“But then who would protect you all from Bonny?” was Colonel Fitzwilliam’s mischievous response. “No, Miss Elizabeth, I know my duty. Though I may have become world-famous in the theater, I must resign myself to the life of a fighting man. I must keep my family safe, after all.”
“Then we shall depend on your diligence when Napoleon invades England, sir.”
“If Napoleon invades England,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam, “I shall stand as your last line of defense, my lady.”
“Oh, stop it, Anthony,” said Lady Susan, glaring at her son with exasperation. “Can you never speak seriously about anything?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Lady Susan shook her head and turned to Elizabeth and Jane. “Notwithstanding my son’s manners, I was pleased to meet you, my dears. I do not know if Anne has informed you, but I hold a ball every year during the season. Anne and Georgiana are to attend, and I should like to extend the invitation to you as well.”
“Thank you, Lady Susan,” replied Jane for the sisters. “Elizabeth and I would be delighted to attend.”
“Darcy!” boomed the sound of his cousin’s voice. “Had I known that such beauties inhabited Hertfordshire, I would have resigned my commission and joined you at Bingley’s estate!”
Darcy, ensconced in the comfort of his well-appointed study, looked up at his cousin in surprise, startled from recollections of one of the very women of which Fitzwilliam was speaking. Something must have shown in his countenance, for Fitzwilliam grinned and flopped into a chair on the other side of Darcy’s desk.
“I am hard-pressed to remember meeting such a beauty as Miss Bennet, and Miss Elizabeth is quite the most interesting lady I have had the good fortune to encounter. It seems to me your mother has shown great discernment in inviting them to stay with you, for I cannot imagine they will not be a sensation in the coming season.”
“You overestimate their charms, Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy, still floundering after the unexpected interruption.
“Do I?” demanded his cousin. “If so, I should like to know in what manner. Only fifteen minutes in their company informed me they are well worth knowing. How can you say otherwise, when, it is said, you have been in their company for more than two months?”
“Oh, yes, very well worth knowing,” said Darcy. “My mother has befriended two waifs with an improper family, little connection or wealth, and a mercenary mother who attempts to marry them off to any man with more than a tuppence in his pocket!”
“I have never heard you speak so, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam, his tone reproving. “Not even of Miss Bingley, whom you despise.”
“I do not despise Miss Bingley,” said Darcy with more shortness than he intended. “It is only that I do not wish to marry her.”
“Then you must feel something for one of these ladies, for I suspect little more could induce you to forget yourself in such a manner as attempting to deny your attraction.”
“You are dreaming,” said Darcy. “As I said, I tolerate their presence, for my mother and sister have taken a fancy to them. Otherwise, I am in no danger.”
The way Fitzwilliam regarded him, Darcy thought he did not believe Darcy’s assertions. The wonder of wonders, Fitzwilliam did not press the matter, instead returning to his rebuke, which was no more palatable for Darcy’s pique.
“Regardless, these ladies do not deserve your contempt, Darcy. As you have already stated, they are your mother’s guests, and if for no other reason than that, you must curb your tongue lest you offend them.”
“I have more control than that.”
“Usually, I would agree with you. However, I have never seen you react like this to young ladies, regardless of their situation. I shall leave you to your disdain for them but advise you to take care to avoid saying something which cannot be unsaid.”
Though Fitzwilliam claimed he would leave Darcy alone, he stayed in Darcy’s study for some time, drinking his brandy and speaking of the Bennet sisters. Accustomed as he was to Fitzwilliam’s ways and his composure restored, Darcy allowed him to wax eloquent, even agreeing with him on certain of his observations.
It was unfortunate, but Darcy’s mood was not to improve to any great degree, considering the upcoming visit to the Bennet sisters’ relations the very next day. As they sat in the carriage, Darcy beside his mother while the three younger ladies occupied the opposite seat, the excitement shown by the two sisters—shown more by the younger—was palpable. The carriage rattled from the Mayfair district through the streets of London, and soon they were making their way through narrower boulevards, though more heavily traveled. When they stopped, it was before a modest, yet comfortable and well-maintained home close to some business districts in the distance.
The Bennet sisters led the way up the stairs and into the house, where the housekeeper and a maid met the and then shown into a drawing-room where the relations awaited. There, waiting for them, were a man and a woman, the man showing a resemblance to Mrs. Bennet, perhaps ten years Darcy’s senior, while the woman was five years younger, pretty, and slender of build. When they rose to greet the visitors, the Bennet sisters crowding close with fond greetings and embraces, the couple showed themselves to be both elegant of dress and possessed of fine manners.
“My lady,” greeted Mrs. Gardiner when Miss Elizabeth introduced her again to Darcy’s mother, “how lovely it is to see you again after all these years. I was never so surprised as when I heard you had invited my dear nieces to stay with you.”
“And I am eager to renew our acquaintance, Mrs. Gardiner,” said his mother with an unmistakable warmth. “I was also surprised to hear of the connection. But, please, let us dispense with the formalities.”
“Of course,” said Mrs. Gardiner. Then she turned to Darcy and Georgiana and greeted them, inviting them to sit. “Welcome to my home, Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy.”
“Again?” asked Darcy, puzzled. “I was not aware we were previously acquainted.”
“It is not correct to suggest we were acquainted in any sense,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “But I do remember seeing you in Lambton, for, as I recall, you came much as a young boy. As for your sister,” Mrs. Gardiner turned to an interested Georgiana, “I remember her often in the company of your mother, and even held her once when she was a babe.”
“Oh, I did not know that,” said Georgiana.
“You were far too young,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “But I remember it very well, for my youth in Lambton was among the happiest times of my life. I remember Derbyshire with great fondness and hope to return there someday.”
Mrs. Gardiner turned and directed a smile at her husband, who was watching them all with interest and clear affection for his wife. “If my husband would hurry and build his business, we may even have the funds to purchase an estate someday, for living in the neighborhood would be one of my fondest dreams.”
“All in good time, Madeline,” said Mr. Gardiner with a laugh of good cheer. “She has long informed me of her desire to live again in Derbyshire, but the matter is beyond my means at present. Perhaps in a few more years, it might be possible.”
“I shall hold you to it, Edward.”
The ladies all congregated together, their happy conversation and feminine voices rising over the room. It was apparent they were already getting on famously, a circumstance unsurprising to Darcy, given his mother’s glowing comments about Mrs. Gardiner. As for the Bennet sisters, the easy and affectionate manner with which they interacted with their aunt suggested familiarity and esteem, and Darcy wondered if these people were the reason they were so different from the rest of their family.
“Well, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Gardiner, pulling Darcy’s attention back to his host. “It seems we are a
drift in a sea of women and must rely on each other for sensible conversation.”
Darcy arched an eyebrow at the man’s humorous tone. “You do not consider Miss Elizabeth’s conversation to be sensible?”
Mr. Gardiner laughed and shook his head. “No, Mr. Darcy, you have caught me out—as I am certain you are already aware, Lizzy is among the most sensible young ladies I have ever met, as is my dear Mrs. Gardiner. And yet, Lizzy’s interests do not align with my own, though she has some startling observations to make about business, the war on the continent, and other matters which are usually a man’s purview.”
“Yes, I have noticed this about her.” Darcy paused, regarding Mr. Gardiner with no little curiosity, and was induced to say: “If you will excuse me, sir, I am surprised, for you are nothing like your sister.”
“‘Sisters,’ Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Gardiner, his amusement never dimming. “Trust me, you are not the first man to make that observation. For all Margaret is a good woman and Gertrude—Mrs. Phillips, my other sister—is loving, the Good Lord did not bless them with the highest sense.”
“You are as unlike as siblings can be,” said Darcy, unsure what to say and not wishing to cause offense.
“That we are. But they are good women, my sisters, though I will own they exasperate me at times.”
From that awkward beginning, their conversation wove among several topics, and Darcy found himself enjoying Mr. Gardiner’s company. Though not a gentleman, on that day when the man purchased his own estate, Darcy was certain he could fit in, his manners being more proper than some men he knew who sprang from stock ten generations deep in gentlemen.
When they left, after his mother extended an invitation to the Gardiners to join them at the theater in two days’ time, Darcy was beset with the realization that his mother had been correct. Given his knowledge of Mrs. Bennet, he had made an assumption concerning their near relations and, in particular, Mrs. Bennet’s brother. But much like Lady Catherine was nothing like her siblings, Mr. Gardiner was as different from Mrs. Bennet as night was to day. It was a lesson he had best remember.
