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Darcy would have to advise Bingley to invest in better chairs for his study, or at least some cushions.

The room wasn’t all that bad on the whole, only mostly bare and missing the books and maps that Darcy was fond of in his own study.

He looked to where Bingley sat at the desk, trying to muddle through the reports on the harvest yields.

He felt his heart go out to him. It had not been so long ago that he had inherited with no notice and little preparation.

The feeling of an overwhelming weight pressing upon him that never seemed to let up.

The weight of all those lives in the balance of his decisions.

It had taken a while to get his bearings.

“Bingley, how does it look?” Darcy knew what he thought of the paperwork but was curious to see what Bingley noticed.

Bingley frowned at the papers spread across his desk.

“If I am interpreting this correctly, the yield from the crops has decreased since last year. Further, it looks like this has been a diminishing trend for the last three years. Only I cannot see a reason?” Bingley leaned back into his leather chair.

He was glad that Darcy had come along to explain things.

Darcy shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he tried to explain some minutiae of estate management.

“There may be a reason I do not see, but I know that a property that is up for lease often loses the oversight that it needs to stay gainful. Unless, of course, there is a very good steward in charge of things. Tenants left on their own are less productive if they have no one to apply to about a broken plow or flooded field.” It was fascinating how much of the estate work was information that either had to be passed down or muddled through.

Trying out a chair in the corner, he found the padding lumpy and arms too high for comfort.

He would definitely need better chairs or to invent a game of finding one that worked.

“If that is the case, why lease out what could be a very profitable estate?” Bingley’s mind was still used to seeing the world through the eyes of a businessman.

It was sort of nostalgic looking over papers at a desk.

He almost heard his father’s voice questioning the efficacy of something.

The wood paneling was even remarkably similar to that which had been in his father’s study.

“Not everyone has the same situation. Maybe a widow is holding the property for her son but hasn’t the wherewithal to have an effective steward and does the best she can.

Or it is a fourth or fifth estate and the owner has become overwhelmed.

There are many reasons.” Darcy himself had two satellite estates where a steward oversaw the daily issues but that he visited every year.

They both had better chairs than this room , Darcy complained silently to himself.

The last chair he tried was uneven somehow, and he kept having to shift to keep from tipping out of it.

Bingley tapped on the ledger with his fingers distractedly.

“I must admit that I had not expected the amount of oversight needed at this small estate. What I do not understand is how all the men at White’s never seem to worry about anything like this.

” He had half thought owning an estate was all garden parties and big houses.

“That is where a good steward can come in. If you have someone reliable, you do not have to worry overmuch. However, you risk them swindling you and running your estate into the ground if you do not at least check in regularly. I hesitate to spend too much time away from those who I am responsible to oversee.” Darcy tried to be mindful of his friend’s autonomy, but he felt the urge to warn him away from activities that would bring dissipation. That and these chairs were distracting.

Bingley may enjoy having a good time, but he was finding the need to have meaning in his life.

“I can see how that holds true. A businessman needs to make sure his managers are honest, or he can go bankrupt.” He was also enjoying Darcy trying to find a comfortable chair. His facial expressions were hilarious.

“How are you enjoying the endeavor on the whole? Do you feel it suits you? Also, why are all the chairs so absolutely horrible?” Darcy wondered if his happy-go-lucky friend would take to the hard work necessary for estate management. He also wondered who designed these chairs.

Bingley could not respond to his friend’s query because of his hysterical laughter.

After a few moments, he managed a gasping stop.

“My father once told me that a gentleman needed to have uncomfortable chairs in his study so that he has the upper hand in any negotiations.” His laugh let Darcy know he had found his predicament entertaining.

“Can you at least get me one comfortable chair? Unless you want me to stand any time we are in here.” His pleading tone signaled his desperation.

“I will have one found and brought in here for you, old chap. As for running the estate, I find it is a lot of work, but I am enjoying the challenge. It has been frustrating having to put up with my sisters harping about good people. I have enjoyed the society here despite their complaining.” Bingley was still trying to figure out how to get some freedom from his sisters.

“Would the society you are enjoying have blue eyes?” Darcy grinned.

Bingley’s focus shifted, and he seemed to get a goofy look on his face.

“You know, Miss Bennet is the most beautiful lady I think I have ever seen, but she is unlike any lady I have known. We had an entire conversation about the benefits of crop rotation the last time we spoke. That night I was trying to think if I had ever had a serious conversation with a woman before. I do not think I ever had. She even asked me what I was doing to aid the tenant families on the property. I am ashamed to admit I could not even remember how many tenant families lived on Netherfield land.” The shift in his reality confused Bingley.

Darcy recognized the look on his face as the looks he would get when there was a new lady in his life.

“Miss Elizabeth similarly questioned me. I have written to my stewards to see if what she questioned was being provided for, as I had assumed.” Darcy looked at his thoughtful companion, thinking that Miss Bennet may be the making of him.

Darcy stood to go gaze out the window and contemplate how a different Miss Bennet had affected him.

He came out of his pondering when he spotted a carriage coming up the drive. “It looks like we have callers. Shall we go greet them?” Ready to leave the room, Darcy still found time to glare at the uncomfortable chairs, which seemed to mock his indignation.

“Yes, we have been working long enough. Let us go.” Bingley stood and straightened his attire before leaving his study, and his seemingly problematic furniture, behind.

In the parlor, Caroline Bingley could barely withhold her glee at being able to prove to Darcy her superiority to the country chits that had come calling.

Mrs. Bennet had arrived, accompanied by her two oldest daughters.

They were obviously sniffing after her brother and Mr. Darcy and would have to be put in their place.

“I am glad to host you in my parlor. It must be a treat for you to see a room in the latest style.” She swiveled her gaze to the maid in the corner and requested the tea service.

She glanced around the room, admiring the way the light caught the gold of the furniture and the intricate details of the statues.

Mrs. Bennet looked around the room, noting both the needless opulence and uncomfortable furniture with little to no padding.

The color scheme relied heavily on a mustard yellow and a kind of faded salmon color that almost made her lose her appetite.

“I see that you have put a lot of effort into this room.” She had been on the receiving end of too many cutting remarks, so she refused to respond with her own.

Fanny felt she had managed her response fairly well.

Caroline smirked at the comment. The lowly family who had come calling obviously had no notion of style.

Their dresses were a stark contrast to the fashion of the Ton.

“Yes, these colors are quite the thing right now. My close friend Mrs. Stanford told me that the combination was all the rage and even Lady Jersey was redecorating with these hues this season.” It had been a tremendous feat of hers to befriend Mrs. Stanford, who had the most singular style in the Ton.

“I see that you thoroughly embrace the shades, Miss Bingley.” Jane eyed the odd salmon-colored dress with rows of lace on the bodice.

Elizabeth knew she would never desire to be seen as fashionable if these were the colors she would have to embrace. “How have you been enjoying your time here? Do you find living in the country to suit you?”

“It has been a trial, I tell you. You do not know how I suffer. As you do not live in London, you do not understand the pain of being separated from high society. How I miss the entertainments and calls, the ability to see and be seen. There is simply nothing to do in the country!” Caroline was even more put out that her sister had been staying in her room most mornings.

To make things worse, Darcy had not adequately fawned over her abilities as a hostess.