Page 2 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Drawing Room
Longbourn
The Next Morning
“Come in, my dear friends, come in!” Mrs. Bennet cried out, and Elizabeth, who had been working on some embroidery, carefully set it aside and stepped forward to greet the Lucas ladies.
It was common practice for the women of Lucas Lodge to gather with the Bennets the morning after an assembly or ball.
When Lady Lucas and her two daughters were settled in their chairs and tea had been ordered, Mrs. Bennet said, “Lady Lucas, do you happen to know which of the gentlemen in the Netherfield party are married? I simply could not find out, which was quite exasperating!”
Lady Lucas, a cheerful lady of some fifty summers, leaned forward and said, “Oh, Mrs. Bennet, all but one are single! Can you believe it? Five eligible gentlemen at Netherfield! What a thing for our girls!”
“So only Mr. Hurst is married?” Lydia asked eagerly, and Maria Lucas, the second of the daughters in her family, squealed and said, “Indeed, is it not wonderful? And Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are very handsome, are they not?”
“Which one is Mr. Darcy?” Kitty asked, her pale blue eyes wide with curiosity.
“He is the tallest and most handsome of the guests at Netherfield,” Lady Lucas said, “but I hope that none of you girls will put your hopes in that gentleman. He is master of a great estate with an income of ten thousand pounds a year and is the only one of the guests who confined his dancing to his own party.”
Even Elizabeth could not help but gasp at this information.
Her own family home of Longbourn produced a robust two thousand pounds per annum, and an estate five times that was truly astonishing.
However, Lady Lucas’s advice sounded wise as she vaguely remembered seeing the tall, dark, and handsome Mr. Darcy propping up a wall for most of the previous evening.
She was far more interested in the other gentlemen, all of whom seemed to enjoy dancing.
“Is Colonel Fitzwilliam wealthy?” Mrs. Bennet asked just as the door opened to reveal two maids with tea and trays of scones and cheesecakes.
For a few minutes, the ladies sat in silence except for the clink of saucers and cups as Mrs. Bennet poured tea for everyone and the ladies enjoyed a simple repast.
“He is not wealthy, no,” Lady Lucas finally said in response to her hostess’s earlier question. “He is a younger son, you see. His older brother is Lord Stanton, heir to the Earl of Matlock, who will eventually inherit a fine estate!”
“And which one was he?” Mrs. Bennet demanded with a furrowed brow.
“He was the best-dressed man of the party, with all those fobs and seals and that wonderfully tied neckcloth.”
“Oh!” sighed several of the younger girls, and Lydia exclaimed, “Would that not be marvelous, Mamma, if I were to marry a lord?”
“Indeed it would, my dear,” Mrs. Bennet said fondly and then turned back to her friend. “And what of the last one, Sir Quinton, the older one in the gray coat?”
“I do not know much about him,” her crony said with a disappointed pout, “not even whether he is a knight or a baronet.”
“In any case,” Lydia said with a shake of her curls, “he is far too ugly for me to marry.”
“There is more to a gentleman than merely his looks, my dear,” her mother declared.
“If he has money, he would be a good husband for one of you. Oh, Lady Lucas, this is entirely wonderful. Five eligible young men at Netherfield! I shall go completely distracted! But my dears, I will have to speak to your father about purchasing new gowns for you all.”
“We each acquired a new gown only a month ago after we left half mourning,” Jane protested.
“Yes, but with so many eligible gentlemen, it makes sense to purchase a few more gowns. We would not wish for our new neighbors to think us impoverished!”
“It is a great pity we cannot use our dowries for gowns,” Lydia said with a pout. “With five thousand pounds, we could each purchase a score of gowns each and still have plenty left over.”
“Oh, how I wish that we could,” Kitty said wistfully. “I am certain you saw how well the ladies of Netherfield were dressed. Would it not be wonderful to wear silk gowns and purchase hats with ostrich feathers and the like?”
“I believe that Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley are quite wealthy,” Jane said gently, “and thus have far more money available to purchase gowns.”
“How much money do they have?” Mrs. Bennet demanded, looking to Lady Lucas.
“I understand that Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley each have dowries of twenty thousand pounds.”
“Mary has more!” Kitty exclaimed, turning her attention on the middle Bennet girl.
Mary, who had been quietly knitting in a corner, flushed crimson at suddenly becoming the focus of the conversation, and said, “I do not have access to the income, though, and I will not for many years.”
“And a great pity that is, too,” Mrs. Bennet said with an irritable twitch of her lips.
***
Caroline Bingley’s Bedchamber
Netherfield Hall
Noon
Caroline Bingley rolled her sip of hot chocolate around her palate, savoring the rich, creamy bitterness, before swallowing and taking a pensive bite of buttered toast. The light pre-breakfast repast was spread across a white linen cloth on the small table, which she had directed her maid to drag near the window.
The clock over her antiquated fireplace informed her that it was noon, and Caroline was still wrapped in her dressing gown.
She had never much cared for country hours and was tired, especially after the assembly the previous night.
Given how insipid it had been, she did not think anyone could blame her for sleeping in.
Sitting here, she had an excellent view of the stables, and while she was glad that the smell did not reach all the way up to her window, she was enjoying the antics of the foals in the pasture beyond.
More importantly, she was able to observe the six gentlemen crowded near the stables looking very fine in riding breeches and coats as they mounted the horses the stable boys were bringing out for them.
It was a fine day for riding, if one was so inclined, with deep blue skies and warm sun interrupted by only a handful of clouds, white and puffy as cotton-wool.
She was certainly not so inclined, being but an indifferent rider herself, but she did not begrudge the gentlemen their pursuits.
Caroline watched, content with her chocolate and toast, as her brother and his five male guests rode towards the lush parkland.
Judging from what she had heard of their conversation the day before, she surmised that they intended to survey the hunting prospects of Netherfield Park.
The previous night, one of the locals had insisted on engaging her brother in endless tedious discussion regarding the birds in the park, and Charles was eager to search for the coveys himself.
Caroline wished them luck. Hunting and any discussion of it bored her exceedingly, but she was fond of partridge.
As the men disappeared down the grassy lane, Caroline leaned back and cogitated in her chair, which, despite being outdated, was still plush and comfortable enough to be acceptable for the moment.
Her own long-held and cherished plans were being upset, and she needed to consider carefully before making her next move.
From the moment Caroline had met handsome, wealthy Fitzwilliam Darcy, she had planned to become his wife, and every new piece of information she gathered about the man had deepened that desire.
He was not only tall and handsome and wealthy, he was extremely wealthy.
Pemberley was considered one of the finest estates in England and had an income of ten thousand pounds a year.
Not just that, but the master of Pemberley was the nephew of the Earl of Matlock, and his other connections were equally impeccable.
Caroline had done everything in her power to encourage Charles's friendship with Mr. Darcy, seeing in their close companionship an opportunity to realize her ambitions of rising high into the haut ton.
Now though, she began to wonder if her ambitions were quite high enough.
Caroline was under no illusions as to her own worth as a bride.
She was beautiful, as her looking glass informed her daily, with a tidy dowry of twenty thousand pounds, and all the manners and accomplishments that Miss Lacey's Misses' Seminary could provide its students. Her clothes were among the finest money could buy, and she already looked the part of a noblewoman. Why set her cap for a mere nephew of an earl when the Earl’s own sons were right there in the same house? It would, she thought dispassionately, be easy enough to capture an impoverished second son, but with the Viscount unwed, she would be a fool not to try to charm him instead. Lord Stanton’s allowance from his father might not be large, but to be a countess one day would be worth a few years of frugality, and in any case, her own fortune was worth eight hundred pounds a year in the four percents.
If Stanton proved impossible to capture, she might turn her attention to Sir Quinton Marston, master of a substantial estate in Essex.
The man had been a widower for some five years and seemed in no hurry to replace his dead wife, but he was getting older, and while his looks did not please, he would need an heir sooner or later, and why not choose young lovely Miss Bingley?
She would be an excellent choice to be the mother of that heir.
It might prove that neither of the noblemen would be an easy catch, but Caroline Bingley was no quitter. She could be forced to settle for Mr. Darcy and his far from modest estate, but for the time being, she would exert all her wiles on her noble guests and see what interest she could garner.
***
Netherfield Park
After Noon
Darcy was feeling much refreshed after the previous day’s travel and tedium, and the loveliness of the morning ride was playing no small part in that.
He did not enjoy the society of minor country squires and their families, who never left their own meager estates, but he truly loved the countryside.
One did not get clear arching cerulean skies like these in London, and the city parks were a sad substitute for the vast swards of grass and copses of trees and parkland that one could find away from Town.
Phoenix pranced, also pleased to be out in the country, away from cobbles and all sorts of phaetons and curricles bowling along, apart from rude boys throwing stones and dogs barking and nipping.
It was good to be away from the odors of the city, back out in clean air, surrounded by birdsong and the rustlings of small animals.
Ahead of them, Bingley reined in his own gray gelding, and all the men did the same, and the party came to a halt as their horses blew and pawed.
“I believe that the birds can be found in that patch,” Bingley remarked, pointing toward a woodsy area. “Or at least that is what Mr. Morris, the agent, informed me.”
Mr. Hurst was an indolent gentleman, but he thoroughly appreciated hunting – and eating – pheasant.
“It looks quite hopeful,” he said approvingly. “I hope you have some decent spaniels to flush the birds, Bingley.”
“I have one excellent gun dog, and a couple of younger ones whom I intend to give a try,” Bingley replied.
“Perhaps we can try hunting tomorrow, then, if the weather holds?” Hurst asked.
Darcy, looking around, said, “I would enjoy that very much.”
“I must say, Bingley,” Lord Stanton remarked, “you have done well in choosing this estate. It seems to have all that one would want in terms of a manor, and it is close enough to London to allow for a quick journey to Town if necessary.”
“Thank you,” Bingley said with a grin. “I am inclined to agree with you, especially given the welcome of the inhabitants.”
“Especially the ladies, perhaps?” Richard asked with a lift of his brow.
“Indeed!”
“That is no great surprise,” Darcy said coolly. “You are very wealthy, and thus all the ladies will make a point of being gracious to you. I would suggest you be careful not to show more interest than is wise.”
“Now there is no need to be cynical,” the colonel said indignantly. “I found the ladies most charming, even if their manners were sometimes a trifle exuberant.”
“Miss Bennet was not at all exuberant,” Bingley said passionately. “She was uniformly courteous, and her manners were perfect.”
“Not to mention that she is very beautiful,” Lord Stanton said with a grin.
“She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld,” Bingley said with a besotted smile and then touched his gelding’s flanks with his heels. “Now, shall we return to the manse?”
The party trotted back toward Netherfield Park, chattering happily enough, though Darcy contributed little to the conversation as he pondered his friend Bingley.
The younger man was cheerful, with a ductility of temper that made him a most valuable companion, but Bingley tended to fall in and out of love rapidly, and Miss Bennet was the type of lady who would catch his eye.
The problem was that the people in this rural community would not appreciate Bingley toying with the local beauty’s heart, and Miss Bennet was certainly not a good match for his friend.
He would have to prevent Bingley from making enemies or, worse yet, acquiring an unsuitable bride.