Page 25 of Elizabeth is not a Bennet
In the Carriage
Returning to Netherfield Hall
A few minutes later
“Do you think I should marry Miss Bennet?” Bingley asked.
Darcy, whose mind was filled with rapturous visions of Elizabeth Stowe, jerked and turned to look at his friend.
“My apologies. I was woolgathering. What did you say?”
“Should I marry Miss Bennet?” Bingley repeated.
Darcy frowned and forced himself to focus on the question.
“Do you love her?” he asked.
“I do, with all my heart.”
“Then, yes,” Darcy replied simply.
Bingley tilted his head and grimaced. “Is it truly so simple to you, then? My sisters claim that Miss Bennet’s connections are poor, and thus she would not be an appropriate bride. Caroline, in particular, is opposed to the match because she wants to rise in society and wishes for me to marry a lady of the ton who can raise our family standing.”
Darcy leaned back against the squabs and said, “Bingley, I will be honest and say that, before I met Miss Stowe, I would likely have agreed with your sister. I have never been in love before and was prepared to offer for a woman based on wealth and connections. But now that I am genuinely in love, my feelings are entirely different. There can be nothing better than to wed a woman one truly loves and respects. If you believe that you and Miss Bennet will be happy together, you should offer. Moreover, while I do not necessarily think this should weigh with you a great deal, the truth is that Miss Bennet is the daughter of the master of Longbourn, and thus is higher than you socially.”
“Thank you, Darcy,” Bingley said, grinning. “My heart agrees completely. I will offer for her as soon as possible, as I cannot wait any longer!”
/
Dining Room
Netherfiel d
Evening
“It is very cold today,” Miss Bingley said, looking outside. “I wonder if it will snow.”
Darcy, who was spooning truly excellent white soup into his mouth, turned toward the dining room window and said, “It does not look like it will snow.”
“But if it does snow tonight,” the lady continued, “you will not attempt to go north, will you, Mr. Darcy? It would not be safe!”
Bingley, who was wearing a beatific look as he ate his own soup, turned a disapproving eye on his younger sister. “Caroline, the roads are good, and Darcy has an excellent carriage. I am certain he will be very well.”
“It is rare for there to be significant snowstorms at this time of year,” Darcy added.
Miss Bingley grimaced and returned to her soup, and Mrs. Hurst said, “I am sure you are eager to see dear Miss Darcy.”
“I am,” Darcy agreed. Inwardly, he admitted to himself that he was at least as eager to see Miss Stowe as he was to see his sister. He really was madly in love with the lady .
“Well, I hope we will have the pleasure of seeing you in Town for the Season next year,” Miss Bingley remarked.
“Perhaps,” Darcy said noncommittally. “Perhaps.”
/
The Lion and the Lamb Inn
Village of Claybourne
Northumberland
Wickham scooted his chair a bit closer to the fire and took a hefty forkful of shepherd’s pie, devouring it eagerly. He had dined at many inns, some good, some not so good. Meryton’s Pig in the Poke was among the best; his compliments to the comely Bertha regarding the fare were entirely sincere. It was odd, really, that some provincial backwaters produced better food than several elegant restaurants in London he had visited. But perhaps local pubs had the advantage of preparing meals from local ingredients; the cook at the Lion and the Lamb was also remarkably skilled, and Wickham was confident that he would enjoy his time here with tasty food, a jovial landlord, and industrious maids .
He ate his way through his dinner, interspersed with long pulls of his ale between bites. He had only been in town for a few days, sent north by Mr. Bennet on a clandestine mission to gather information. Bennet had sent him off with a list of instructions as well as a heavy purse for expenses, along with a stern warning that no more money would be provided unless Wickham gave a careful account of his expenditures. Wickham would spend his time in Claybourne learning about, and hopefully meeting, Mrs. Moira and Mr. Harold Stowe, whose estate of Greymere lay but a few miles from the quaint little village. Bennet, having discovered Wickham’s gift for reading people, had suggested that it was high time that Wickham started using his ability for good.
After gaining Colonel Forster’s permission to serve the Bennets in such a way, Wickham had ridden north to a village of charming mien and bitter sleety weather. He had spent the journey devising his cover story; he was a young man of business working for an older tradesman of more than modest means who was interested in bettering himself. He would thus at once have an excuse for poking around, making inquiries, and ingratiate himself among the locals. He would look about to see if any nearby estates were available to let and make inquiries about possibly renting one.
It had taken Wickham but one evening to befriend the other young men of the area. They often gathered in the Lion and the Lamb in the evening to chat and smoke their pipes. After the second time Wickham had paid for everyone’s drinks, he had been a firm favorite. There was little gaming to be had, neither cards nor dice. It seemed that gaming was not a popular pursuit in this town. Wickham was just as glad – as much as he enjoyed the cards and bones, he had no real bent for them, and was determined to avoid going into debt here or anywhere.
A party was to gather here tonight, and Wickham hastily finished his meal so that he would be available for drinking and conversation. The other young men would be arriving soon enough to talk over the harvests and fields and next year’s forecasts as they smoked companionably. Someone had mentioned that Harold Stowe would be joining tonight’s jollification, and a frisson of excitement shivered down Wickham’s spine at the news. It felt excitingly like being a spy, slipped behind enemy lines, and for a moment, some boyish part of him wished that he could write his reports to Mr. Bennet in code. But no, regular letters would suffice; no need to raise suspicions with cloak-and-dagger behavior, the events that had sent Wickham up north notwithstanding.
The door opened, and two of Wickham’s recent acquaintances, a Mr. Rodgers and a Mr. Willis, strode into the pub arm-in-arm with a young man of medium height whose red hair and features resembled Elizabeth Stowe’s .
Wickham rose to his feet and stepped forward with a cheerful smile, even as he exulted inwardly. Now he was getting somewhere.
/
Drawing Room
Longbourn
The Next Morning
The fire crackled softly as Charles raptly took in the angelic features of Jane Bennet, who was standing but a short distance away from him. Mrs. Bennet had just shepherded Miss Kitty out before her to see to some concern of the housekeeper’s, while Miss Lydia had been sent off on an errand a few minutes before that. Bingley could only be thankful for Mrs. Bennet’s tact or forethought in arranging for him to be alone with his beloved Jane.
“Miss Bennet, I love you with all my heart and soul and mind,” Charles Bingley said, gazing into the eyes of the woman he adored. “Would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage? ”
Jane’s eyes welled with joyful tears. “Yes, Mr. Bingley. Yes! I would be honored and overjoyed to become your wife!”
/
Pemberley
The Next Day
Two Hours After Noon
Darcy looked up at the door of Pemberley with joy as he alighted from his carriage. The windows glowed, fires and lamps lit for the ladies in residence. Miss Stowe and her cousin had been here for close to a week, and Darcy eagerly hoped they were finding the estate to their liking.
Certainly Pemberley was making a good showing for itself today. A slight snowstorm had blown up but a few days previously, with another dusting the prior night. Icicles dangled charmingly from the eaves to either side of the door, and snow sparkled along the stone railings before the front door, like icing-sugar on a cake. Ice-coated bare branches and twigs shone brightly in the sun. Darcy looked about his property with pleasure, breathing deeply of the crisp, cold air.
The door opened as he put his foot upon the first step, his butler moving down the stairs as quickly as his dignity would permit.
“Mr. Darcy, we did not expect you so early!”
“I left at the break of dawn this morning, Tuppin,” Darcy replied with a smile. “I was eager to arrive as soon as possible.”
John the footman was waiting directly inside the door and took Darcy’s heavy coat, hat, and cane. Darcy relaxed, enjoying the warmth. A shriek from near the stairs was his only warning, and he turned hastily, arms rising. Georgiana crashed into him with a force surprising for so slight a figure, and he hugged her tightly, a bright smile lightening his features. She looked up at him, her face blazing with joy. “You are here! I am so happy to see you, brother!”
“I am so pleased to be home,” he replied, smiling down at her. “How beautiful you are becoming, little sister! And not so little anymore, either – you have grown!”
“I have,” she agreed, laughing, but Darcy had been distracted by the soft tap of footsteps. He looked around eagerly to observe two young women coming down the corridor, and his face warmed and his heart beat faster in his chest. Miss Stowe and her cousin were approaching, with warm smiles on both ladies’ faces. Darcy’s eyes, naturally enough, fixed on Miss Stowe, who was looking glorious in the pale candlelight yellow with a delicate green shawl about her shoulders, her fiery hair piled high and glinting in the light.
“Mr. Darcy!” Miss Stowe exclaimed. “How wonderful to see you!”
“It is wonderful to see you as well,” he replied and then forced himself to switch his attention to her cousin. “Miss Bennet, good morning.”
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bennet said, dropping a curtsey.
“I am certain you wish to refresh yourself,” Georgiana said, “but do come into the east sitting room when you are ready, and we will enjoy some tea and scones.”
He grinned down at her. “I will be as quick as I can.”
He was true to his word, eager to spend time with both Georgiana and his beloved Miss Stowe, and thus it was only twenty minutes later that he found himself back with the young ladies, who were being looked after by the motherly Mrs. Annesley, Georgiana’s companion. The east sitting room was modest in size, with a large fireplace which poured out heat. Only a few months previously, it had been repainted, and fitted up with new blue carpet and furniture and light blue curtains for Georgiana, who had taken a liking to the prospect of the room, with its windows looking over Lady Anne’s rose garden.
“I hope you had a pleasant trip north, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked as he settled down onto a chair across from her. The room looked to be a favorite spot for the ladies, as Miss Stowe had a stack of books on a small table at her side, Miss Bennet had a sewing basket at her feet, and Georgiana had a piece of music in her hands.
“I had a wonderful trip north,” he agreed, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth’s fine eyes and sparkling demeanor.
“I suppose it must be pleasant to be home again,” Miss Bennet said.
“It is very pleasant, indeed,” Darcy confessed, “but not only because of the house and the grounds. I am overjoyed to be here because of the people waiting for me.”
He was gazing at Elizabeth, who flushed a delightful pink, and when he glanced at his sister, it was to discover her with wide eyes and an amazed smile.
“Oh, Brother, I did not realize that you and…,” she began, and then blushed violently and stammered, “I … I… ”
“Nothing has been settled,” Elizabeth said, reaching over and patting the younger woman on the hand. “Mr. Darcy and I thoroughly appreciated one another’s company back in Hertfordshire, but our relationship was complicated by the shooting and my injury and the like.”
“I praise God every day that you were not harmed more than you were,” Darcy said fervently. “Is your injury quite healed?”
“It is,” Elizabeth said. “Now, my uncle and aunt and younger cousins are not the best of correspondents, and Jane has not written in a week. Do you have any of the latest news from Longbourn?”
He realized that she wanted to change the subject, and he replied, “I visited Longbourn only two days ago along with Bingley, and we had a pleasant discussion with your family, Miss Bennet, Miss Stowe. They are all well, and Mr. Bennet entrusted me with a letter to you both.”
“I am glad,” Miss Bennet said hesitantly, and then lifted a blond eyebrow. “Is, erm, that is, I suppose it is not quite, but…”
“Are Mr. Bingley and Jane continuing to enjoy one another’s company?” Elizabeth asked, smiling cheekily.
Darcy chuckled and nodded. “As of a few days ago, there were no formal arrangements, but yes, they show every appearance of relishing one another’s company very much.”