A Fair Prospect

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by Cassandra Grafton


  Bingley resumed his seat. “Oh please do not concern yourself, Madam. I would only wish that I were… that you might treat me so… that is, I – forgive me.” Bingley looked somewhat mortified at what he had just said, and swallowed visibly.

  Mr Gardiner shook his head. “Do not disturb yourself, my dear Sir. We fully comprehend your meaning.”

  Bingley smiled weakly before adding under his breath, “That is what I feared.” He was rewarded however by a quickly smothered laugh from the lady at his side.

  “I can only apologise, Bingley. My excuse is that we have long been the best of friends-” Nicholas turned towards Elizabeth and took her hand, squeezing it lightly before releasing it. “Have we not, Lizzy?”

  Meeting his gaze, Elizabeth could not help but let out a small laugh. “Indeed we have!”

  “And yet not always to your advantage,” added Mr Gardiner.

  Nicholas gave an exaggerated sigh. “I do feel it most unjust that friends who, through no fault of their own, are of the opposite sex, cannot partake of indulging in a private exchange once in a while.”

  “We are full aware of your thoughts upon the matter, my boy, and stop acting like the convention ever prevented you from achieving your aim.”

  Elizabeth noted the surprise on Bingley’s features and said quickly, “It is not quite as serious as my uncle implies, Sir.” She turned to the man at her side. “Perchance, Nicholas, you should explain the legend of Ben and Harriet?”

  Nicholas laughed. “Ah yes – and our downfall. I remember it well.”

  “As do I,” interjected Mr Gardiner.

  “As do we all,” added Jane in an undertone, and Bingley turned to look at her.

  “Would you care to tell the story, Miss Bennet?”

  “I can share but a part of it, only learning of the situation later. As a secret held between Nicholas and Lizzy, though I believe they meant no harm by it, I feel one of them should do the honours.”

  All eyes turned upon the couch where the two perpetrators sat and with a laugh, Nicholas turned towards Elizabeth. “Shall I?”

  “Oh, I think you must, else Mr Bingley will fear the worst!”

  He faced the room and grinned. “What can I tell you, Bingley? There we were, two such good friends, yet we lived no little distance apart. Whenever we had occasion to make any stay in the same part of the country, we would spend much time together, yet as we grew from children into our youth, we found greater restrictions being placed upon us.” Nicholas paused and pretended a heavy sigh. “Simply by nature of our sex, we were unable to spend time alone together. It was most unkind.”

  “It was nothing of the sort, as well you know!” laughed Mr Gardiner. “It is not unkindness to teach young people about convention and propriety.”

  “But a lesson sorely learned at the time, Uncle, nonetheless. We had enjoyed such freedom as children – to suddenly find ourselves having to conform to society’s demands severely curbed the enjoyment of our friendship!”

  “So what did you do?” Bingley’s eager interjection caused everyone to smile.

  Mrs Gardiner turned towards him. “What did they do, Sir? They found a way around such restriction, by devising a way of staying in touch that had all the appearance of legitimacy!”

  “We decided to strike up a correspondence,” Elizabeth said, catching Jane’s eye momentarily and smiling. “Unable to share things privately when in each other’s company, we derived much satisfaction and pleasure from sharing them by word when apart.”

  “But did you not take the risk of being discovered? What if one of the letters had fallen under someone’s eye?”

  Jane shook her head. “They had thought of that. They both made efforts to disguise their own hand.” She paused and looked quickly at the man beside her. “And to secure the matter, Lizzy signed her letters with a boy’s name, and Nicholas with a girl’s. Thus, should anyone happen across their correspondence by chance, they would detect nothing amiss.”

  Bingley grinned and looked over at Elizabeth. “Ben?” and then turned towards Nicholas, “and Harriet?”

  “Indeed, indeed,” said Mr Gardiner. “Inspired by their family names, they each took ownership of a name of the opposite sex.”

  “Yet you stated the downfall of your scheme?”

  Nicholas attempted a resigned sigh, but could not refrain from breaking into a wide grin. “Indeed, Bingley. I was so proud, having attained the age of fifteen years, of being allowed my first glass of wine, that I made the mistake of taking another. Suffice it to say, before long I began to address Lizzy as Ben to her face.”

  With a short laugh, Bingley turned to face Jane. “And were you all present? Was it a family occasion?”

  Delighted to see her sister more herself, Elizabeth smiled as Jane turned her attention to the gentleman by her side. “Indeed, Sir, it was. My aunt and uncle and all our family were present.”

  Elizabeth patted Nicholas’s arm. “He was, of course, severely chastised – both for the over-indulgence and the liberty-taking. And thereafter, both he and I were banned from continuing our innocent correspondence.”

  “Which, of course, we adhere to… most of the time.”

  Mrs Gardiner eyed her Godson narrowly for a moment. “Yes – well, perhaps the less said about that, the better?”

  Jane threw her sister a somewhat shocked look. “You would not… you did not – continue?”

  “Dear, Jane. He is teasing...”

  “… or is he?” Nicholas interjected, waggling his brows in a comical fashion, and Elizabeth laughed.

  “And let that be the end of the matter,” announced Mr Gardiner, who then turned to address Bingley once more. “So, Sir, have you been travelling this spring, and are only just returned to Town?”

  “No, indeed. I have been in residence since quitting Hertfordshire. You must forgive the tardiness of my call upon Miss Bennet, Sir. I was unaware of her presence in Town until only yesterday. My friend had been making some stay in the country, and upon his return Darcy shared the good tidings with me.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened in surprise and, unable to restrain herself, she blurted out, “But I thought you found your way here through Nicholas!”

  “Oh but I did, Miss Elizabeth! I learned of the direction from him, receiving confirmation that Miss Bennet continued to reside in Town. But it was Darcy who informed me only yesterday that she had been in London for some time.”

  Mrs Gardiner exchanged a puzzled glance with her husband. “Mr Darcy? How would Mr Darcy be privy to such knowledge?”

  Struggling with this unexpected intelligence, yet conscious that it brought her pleasure, so much so that she could not help but smile, Elizabeth realised that Bingley floundered for a response and said quickly, “I happened across Mr Darcy whilst staying in Kent, Aunt. Jane’s being in Town came up in conversation.”

  Jane frowned. “How could you just happen across Mr Darcy?”

  Elizabeth hesitated as she saw her aunt exchange a puzzled glance with Jane, and was unsurprised when she turned to look at her and prompted, “Lizzy?”

  “Mr Collins’ patroness and Mr Darcy’s aunt are one and the same. By coincidence, Mr Darcy and his cousin were staying with Lady Catherine de Bourgh during my visit with Charlotte.”

  Conscious that both her aunt and sister would be ruminating upon how she had managed to avoid mentioning this during their afternoon together, Elizabeth was mightily relieved when Bingley took up the conversational reins.

  “Are you acquainted with my friend, Mrs Gardiner?”

  “No, not at all. But the Darcy name is not unfamiliar to me – I grew up in a village not five miles from Pemberley, and I learned from Lizzy’s correspondence last year that the family had made the gentleman’s acquaintance in Hertfordshire.”

  “Darcy is the best of men.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth opened slightly as words of concurrence almost fell involuntarily from her lips. Swallowing the sentiment that had almost escaped her, she l
eaned back in her seat and released a slow breath as the conversation continued around her. This unexpected news caused her some confusion of mind. Mr Darcy had indeed informed his friend of the situation, and this gave rise to feelings of gratitude towards him that were both unprecedented and unsettling.

  Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the upholstery, conscious of a sensation of weariness stealing over her. Something inside had eased, falling away from her, and as it slipped from her grasp she began to feel a release of tension and a great desire to sleep.

  The chiming of the clock caused Elizabeth to start, and opening her eyes she became conscious that the company had been reminded all at once of the lateness of the hour. Sitting up, she tried to shake off the heaviness and recall her attention to the room.

  With a grimace, Nicholas caught his Godmother’s eye. “I fear we have outstayed our welcome, Aunt.”

  “Nonsense, dear boy. It has been a pleasure, as always, to share your company.” She paused, catching sight of Elizabeth as she discreetly tried to conceal a yawn behind her hand. “Yet some of us have had more wearying days than others, and perchance we should postpone further conversation until our next meeting.”

  Everyone rose to their feet and made a general movement towards the drawing room door. Having prearranged between themselves that Bingley would take a hired cab to Gracechurch Street, permitting the two gentlemen to travel back to the Pulteney in Harington’s carriage, a servant was despatched to ensure that the conveyance be made ready at the door, and the guests took their leave of the company.

  Having exchanged the requisite pleasantries with his hosts, Mr Bingley approached Elizabeth, and she shook aside her drowsiness and broke immediately into speech.

  “Forgive my curiosity, Sir, but did I understand you correctly? Did you say that Mr Darcy informed you of my sister’s presence in Town?

  Bingley nodded. “He advised me of many things, not least of which was a result of a conversation with yourself. I am grateful for your openness with my friend, and wish to reassure you that your sister’s well- being is my utmost concern.”

  Elizabeth could not help but wonder what might have been said by Mr Darcy to his friend, but certain as she was that he would not have divulged all that had occurred in Kent, felt the legitimacy of making an enquiry after a common acquaintance.

  “And how fares Mr Darcy?” she feigned nonchalance, ignoring the fact that her insides seemed to be turning themselves into knots the moment his name passed her lips.

  “Quite well, Miss Elizabeth. He did me the honour of calling upon me within an hour of arriving in Town, and I spent a very pleasant afternoon in his company. I did suggest that he accompany me this evening, but he felt it would have been an imposition.”

  Elizabeth felt the warmth flood her cheeks upon hearing these words. The notion that Mr Darcy might have walked through the door this evening had not crossed her mind, for she knew full well he would not wish to associate with the connections that he had so denigrated during his proposal, nor could she picture him wishing to pay a call in an area of London so far removed from the lofty drawing rooms of Mayfair.

  Conscious that Bingley awaited a response, she pulled herself together and smiled widely at him. “Forgive me, Sir. I am distracted. I am sure that my aunt and uncle would have been more than happy to welcome Mr Darcy into their home, but I believe I understand his reservations.”

  “I will let Darcy know that you enquired after him, if I may?”

  Elizabeth hesitated, unsure what she could say; to request that he not do so would seem most odd, yet she would not have Mr Darcy believe she patronised him. Unable to think of a suitable response, she merely inclined her head before excusing herself, walking over to join Nicholas and her aunt and uncle as they waited by the door for Bingley as he took his leave of her sister.

  Under cover of the confusion as hats and canes were distributed and the door opened to the night air, Nicholas turned to Elizabeth. “I will call as soon as the hour is acceptable in the morning.”

  Before she could respond, her aunt had intervened. “Indeed you will not! We ladies have better things to do with our time than sit around awaiting calls from young men!”

  Mr Gardiner chuckled at the expression on Nicholas’ face. “Come now, we must leave the ladies to their purchases. If you have time upon your hands you could always attend me at my business – I am certain I should find you something by way of occupation!”

  “But-”

  “Have patience, Boy! Our paths will cross later in the day, for shall we not all meet in the evening, when we attend the recital?”

  His face brightening immediately, Nicholas turned to Bingley. “You must join us! It is in Hanover Square.”

  Bingley looked a little awkward, and he threw a glance towards Jane, who made a deal of brushing imaginary creases from her skirts. “You are very generous. Perhaps I could leave word at the Pulteney? I am removing to my friend’s home and would need to consult his plans before excusing myself from his company so precipitously.”

  On that note, the gentlemen took their leave, and having been urged to get some rest, Elizabeth made her way up the stairs, her tired mind struggling to absorb all that she had discerned.

  ~o0o~

  The clouds that had slowly gathered finally succeeded in obliterating the moon. On a dirt track running across open fields some twenty miles from London, a horse and cart drew slowly to a halt near a wayside marker.

  Jumping down from the seat next to the driver, the passenger walked up to the stone and ran slender fingers over the engraved wording: Meryton 3 miles.

  Straightening up, the figure stepped back up to the cart and handed over a few coins before receiving a pack and a cane from the silent driver in return.

  “I am much obliged to you.”

  The driver grunted, and with a flick of the reins and click of his tongue, the horse slowly moved on, the cart rattling in its wake.

  Having watched the retreating conveyance until it was swallowed by the night, the figure hoisted the pack up and set off towards the town, the stick striking the ground by way of a guide in the darkness.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Dawn had broken in Gracechurch Street and, having lain awake for some time, Elizabeth had been privy to the light filtering into the room as it turned from darkness to pale grey. Turning her head on the pillow, she observed her sister, whose eyes remained closed. Elizabeth had not been aware of Jane retiring for the night, so deep had her repose been, and she could barely recall getting herself ready for bed at all, other than a sensation of the utmost relief that her mind was too weary to dwell upon the evening’s revelations.

  Yet comforted though she was to be once more amongst family and familiar surroundings, she could not quite settle herself to enjoy it, and it seemed to be her inability to dismiss Mr Darcy that remained the main cause of her disquiet. Not only had he been her last thought before sleeping, but soon after waking he came once more to the forefront of her mind.

  His call upon his friend so soon after arriving in Town, and his purpose in doing so, had left her eager for more. Further, on hearing that Mr Bingley intended to reside with Mr Darcy, it seemed clear no rancour existed between the two. There was a time not so long ago when her instinct would have been to believe that either Mr Bingley was simply too forgiving, or Mr Darcy had not made known the full extent of his interference.

  Now… now, though, she felt nothing but deep gratitude towards Mr Darcy for not only making such a precipitous confession to his friend, but also for what else he might have disclosed, for Mr Bingley’s own words to her on his leave-taking the night before convinced her that he was conscious of a deal more than just her sister’s being in Town.

  Realising that she was once again indulging in the very pursuit that so frustrated her, Elizabeth turned her head restlessly on the pillow. This gradual reversal of her opinion of Mr Darcy could not cease to astound her. Here she was, not five days from having spurned
the offer of his hand and declaring to his face that he was no gentleman, forced to accept that the two considerable blights upon his character, that she had felt defined him as the worst of men, had been in one case destroyed as myth and in the other, considerably atoned for.

  Sighing, she rested her arm across her forehead and closed her eyes. Having little left to reproach him for, she was left with her continued growing awareness of him as a man, and once again she was unable to prevent her thoughts from rushing back towards that moment outside the parsonage when he had caught her as she fell. Even now, eyes closed to her surroundings, she could smell the spring rain, feel its wetness upon her skin, sense the fine fabric of his coat beneath her hands, the solidity of the frame beneath it of the man who held her…

  Feeling the heat steal into her cheeks, Elizabeth stirred restlessly. Can there be so much awareness in a man’s touch?

  “Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth gave a start and moved her arm to the pillow as she opened her eyes, letting out a huff of laughter at herself.

  “Are you well? You are flushed.”

  Kicking the covers from her legs, Elizabeth rolled onto her side so that she faced her sister. “I am a little warm, that is all.” She studied Jane for a moment, then smiled. “And you? I trust you slept well and your dreams were pleasant!”

  “Lizzy!” Jane rolled onto her back and lay much as her sister had been a moment earlier, staring at the canopy above the bed.

  Propping herself up on one elbow, Elizabeth threw her sister a speculative glance, but before she could express what was on her mind, Jane spoke.

  “So it would seem Mr Bingley intends to return to Netherfield, once his business in Town is resolved.”

  “If the timing is fortuitous, perchance he will return to Hertfordshire when we do.”

  Jane turned her head on the pillow. “Yet he may take Nicholas up on his invitation and head to Wiltshire instead.”

 

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