Page 3 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Drawing Room
Netherfield Hall
The Next Day
Elizabeth stepped into the drawing room at Netherfield Hall and looked around curiously.
She had not been in the manor for several years because the Platchetts, the owners of the estate, had relocated to the sea a few years previously because of the ill health of their only son and heir, and it had taken a long time to find a suitable tenant.
“Mrs. Bennet, Misses Bennet,” Caroline Bingley said from her chair by the fire. “Good morning.”
The mistress of Longbourn and her three elder daughters curtsied, and Mrs. Bennet said, “Good morning to you, Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley. I hope that you are well this morning?”
“Very well, yes,” Miss Bingley replied. “Do sit down, please.”
Elizabeth waited for her mother and Jane to take a seat near the fire and their hostess, and then she and Mary sat down across from Mrs. Hurst, who set aside her needlework.
“I hope you are finding Netherfield Park to your liking?” she asked Mrs. Hurst. The lady looked around with a slightly pinched expression and said, “It is well enough, I suppose.”
This statement did not bode well for Mrs. Hurst’s satisfaction with the area, but Elizabeth, after swallowing a sigh, continued, “Do you usually live in London, then?”
“We do,” Miss Bingley declared, inserting herself into the conversation. “We simply adore Town with all its shops and museums and theaters, not to mention members of the haut ton! I assume I will see you all in London during the Season next spring?”
This was said with limpid innocence, and again Elizabeth found herself quelling her irritation. She and most of her sisters were not wealthy enough to enjoy a Season, which was an expensive proposition, and doubtless Miss Bingley knew that.
“Here in the country, very few ladies have a Season,” Elizabeth said in a neutral tone.
“What a pity,” Miss Bingley said and turned toward Jane. “I confess to feeling rather sorry for you. London is truly splendid.”
“Just because my girls have not had a Season does not mean that they have never been to London,” Mrs. Bennet declared. “Our older three have often visited my brother and his family in Cheapside.”
Their hostess and Mrs. Hurst exchanged significant glances, and Elizabeth tightened her lips as her temper rose.
Fortunately, the door opened at this moment to reveal the gentlemen in residence, and Mr. Bingley strode into the room with a broad grin and said, “Mrs. Bennet, Misses Bennet, how wonderful to see you!”
The visitors all stood and curtsied, and Jane said, “It is good to see you as well, Mr. Bingley.”
“I believe you know most of my friends,” Bingley continued, “but I will perform extensive introductions, anyway. Mrs. Bennet, Misses Bennet, Lord Stanton, Sir Quinton, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Hurst. Friends, Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Mary.”
There were bows and curtsies, and Elizabeth, when she straightened, found her gaze shifting to the one man she had not yet met, Mr. Darcy.
He was ridiculously handsome, along with being tall, and his shoulders filled out his jacket very nicely.
However, his expression was aloof, and she wondered if he thought he was above his company.
Of course, another possibility was that Mr. Darcy was merely shy.
“May I sit down here?” a male voice inquired, and she looked up and smiled automatically at Sir Quinton Marston.
“Yes, by all means,” she said. “I hope you are enjoying your time here in the country, Sir Quinton.”
“I am, very much,” the man agreed. He was the oldest and plainest of the men, and she thought his eyes looked sad, but he seemed friendly.
“I believe that Netherfield has excellent hunting for birds,” she continued, “if you are so inclined.”
“We returned from hunting pheasants but half an hour ago,” Sir Quinton said with a smile, “and yes, most of us were successful. I confess that my shooting is not as good as my fellows, but I do not mind a great deal. So long as I am permitted to eat the pheasant, I do not care if I cannot shoot them!”
Elizabeth laughed and said, “My father has similar views as he prefers fishing to hunting, and reading in his library to both.”
“He is a scholar, then?”
“He is,” Elizabeth agreed. “He graduated from Cambridge and has made it his business to read as much as possible ever since.”
“Do you enjoy reading?”
“I do, but I also like to walk, and dance, and play the pianoforte, though I do so rather poorly. I have many interests and am not greatly accomplished in any of them.”
“I am confident that one can find great pleasure in an activity without being an expert,” her companion said.
“Very much. Indeed, in some cases being a novice is a blessing, like lawn billiards, which I have played only a few times in my life. That is to say that I find great joy when I manage to hit the ball through the hoop, even if it takes me a number of attempts to do so. If I were an expert, I would probably be irritable over every poor strike, but as it is, I am entirely without shame even if the ball ends up in the trees!”
“I have not played lawn billiards for many years,” her companion said with a chuckle, “and doubtless would perform very badly. But come, what kinds of books do you like?”
The pair discussed books amicably for the rest of the visit, and then the Bennet ladies took their leave.
Elizabeth, in the midst of her quiet farewells, noted that Mr. Bingley could hardly keep his eyes off of Jane.
That was no great surprise, given that her sister was both beautiful and kind.
Perhaps the eldest Miss Bennet would find a good match among the gentlemen of Netherfield Hall.
***
Dining Room
Netherfield Hall
Dinner Time
Silverware clinked against china all around the table, while glasses thumped onto the white linen cloth.
The aromas of dinner sat heavy on the air, pheasant and ham and potatoes and white soup and rolls piled into pyramids, along with pies and vegetables and fish and cheese.
Darcy glanced over the table, half irritated and half amused.
Miss Bingley was showing off for her guests again, and while he did appreciate the variety from a purely gastronomical standpoint, it was absurdly expensive and even pretentious.
Miss Bingley was not being subtle. It was now obvious that she had set her cap for one of her brother’s highborn friends and acquaintances.
When first she had been introduced to Darcy, he a grave young man down from Cambridge and she a young lady just barely out of the schoolroom, she had batted her lashes and complimented him outrageously and hung on his every word.
It had been very uncomfortable, and Darcy had avoided speaking with her as often as he politely could.
Now her enthusiasm for him had demonstrably waned, and he found himself both grateful and entertained.
It seemed that she no longer wished to charm and wed a mere Mister, even if that Mister came appended to the name of Darcy and the estate and wealth of Pemberley.
Now Miss Bingley, daughter of a tradesman, had set her sights far higher; now on capturing the heir of an earl, or a baronet, rather than a mere nephew.
Unhappy woman! She would not succeed in her ambitions.
The Viscount and Sir Quinton had successfully fended off cleverer social climbers than she for many years now.
While Miss Bingley was tiresome, Darcy was pleased with his fellow guests.
He still would not have knowingly joined such a large party, and Bingley had yet to show any inclination to settle down with Netherfield’s books and ledgers, but the group was congenial, and all of these men were ones whom Darcy counted among his friends.
“If they had uncles enough to fillallCheapside,” cried Bingley, “it would not make them one jot less agreeable.”
“But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world,” replied Lord Stanton.
Darcy frowned, realizing he had missed the previous conversation, and asked, “Who has uncles in Cheapside?”
“The Bennet girls have an uncle in Cheapside and another who is a mere solicitor,” Miss Bingley said, pointing her nose upwards.
“Moreover, Mrs. Bennet is but a solicitor’s daughter.
It is really a great pity, as Miss Bennet is a sweet girl, but with such dreadful connections, I fear that she will never find a worthy husband. ”
Darcy did not particularly care about the Bennet ladies so long as Bingley did not foolishly fall in love with one of them.
He turned a thoughtful gaze on his friend and observed that the younger man was looking truculent.
However, within seconds, Hurst began speaking of further sport on Netherfield land, and the conversation shifted away from women and toward hunting.
***
Jane’s Bedchamber
Longbourn
Midnight
Elizabeth slipped through the door and closed it softly behind herself as she drew her night robe closer around her shoulders. Her woolen clothing was warm, but there was a pervading chill in the air from the cold autumn night.