Page 7 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

Netherfield

An Hour Later

Elizabeth squinted through the window of the Bennet carriage and was relieved to observe three tall footmen emerging from the front door of Netherfield Hall, all carrying large umbrellas.

It was a very good thing that the Bennet ladies had insisted on taking the carriage, because within five minutes of leaving Longbourn, the heavens had opened, and even now the rain was pouring down, splattering the windows of the carriage and turning the road into mud.

Fortunately, the carriageway led directly in front of Netherfield Hall, and there was a stone path and then a series of steps to the front door. With the footmen and their umbrellas, Elizabeth hoped they would not get entirely soaked.

She waited for the threesome to arrive and open the carriage door, and Jane stepped out under the umbrella of one of the men, Elizabeth under another, and Mary under the third.

The ladies hastily made their way up the stone steps and through the open door, where they found themselves in the vestibule, damp but not drenched.

They handed over their hats and gloves to the maids, and then the butler, a genteel man of some five and forty years, guided them to the drawing room, where Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were waiting.

“My dear Misses Bennet,” Caroline Bingley cried, rising to her feet. “What a truly dreadful day! I hope that you are not very wet? Please do sit down by the fire, all of you.”

“We are well enough,” Jane said, and took a seat in the middle of the couch a little distance from the fire. Elizabeth took the seat to her left, Mary the seat to her right, and Miss Bingley sat down across from them, while Mrs. Hurst turned her attention back to her embroidery.

“We truly are very grateful for your visit,” Miss Bingley gushed. “The gentlemen left an hour ago, and we are delighted to spend time with you. Given the weather, it is truly kind of you.”

“It is our honor,” Jane said politely, while Elizabeth tilted her head in surprise. She had been certain that Caroline Bingley disdained her family, and was startled at the apparent warmth in her greeting.

Their hostess rang a bell, and a neatly dressed maid appeared and took a request for tea. Once the servant had left, Miss Bingley turned a smiling face toward them and said, “Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, I know you both play and sing. What of you, Miss Bennet? Are you a performer?”

“I am not,” Jane said composedly, “but Mary and Elizabeth are quite adept.”

“Mary is far more adept than I am,” Elizabeth said promptly. “I do not practice enough to be an excellent performer, but Mary is extremely diligent.”

This provoked a soft flush on Mary’s face, but she merely said, “I do enjoy playing very much.”

“Perhaps after we drink our tea, we could play a little?” Caroline suggested.

“I would enjoy that,” Mary replied.

The door opened with tea and scones, and Miss Bingley, after determining the desires of her guests, poured tea and handed the cups around.

The subsequent discussion was, to Elizabeth’s surprise, actually quite enjoyable.

The Netherfield ladies were gifted conversationalists, and she appreciated their wide-ranging comments about plays and operas, and visits to Parks and Vauxhall Gardens.

There was, she believed, a hint of conceit in their remarks given that the Bennet ladies had far less experience in Town, but it was not egregious, and Elizabeth, a curious soul, was genuinely interested in their experiences.

Just as they finished their repast, Miss Bingley asked a few questions about the Gardiners, and Elizabeth’s suspicions rose again.

There was more than a hint of disdain in her hostess’s voice, and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst exchanged more than one look when Jane placidly described her uncle’s warehouses.

Elizabeth was relieved when tea was finished, and by mutual consent, the ladies turned their attention to the pianoforte.

She was not surprised to discover that Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley were excellent players, but Mary was the match of them both, which greatly pleased Elizabeth.

Mary had always been a hard worker, but in the past, she had been so concerned about showing off her skills that her performance was affected for the worse.

Now, with the confidence of a large fortune at her disposal, Mary was more relaxed, which clearly improved her playing.

The ladies were about to freshen up for dinner when the door to the drawing room opened to reveal the master of the estate, whose confused expression quickly gave way to delight.

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary!” he cried. “I had no thought that you would call on such a wet day, but how wonderful to see you!”

Jane, who had risen at his appearance, said, “Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were kind enough to invite us over for the day. We have been enjoying a cheerful conversation and some music.”

There was movement by the door, and Mr. Darcy entered the room, his expression as grave as Mr. Bingley’s was cheerful.

“It is storming badly,” he said. “It might be safer if you returned to Longbourn before the roads grow even muddier. That is why we left Meryton before dinner – the roads are becoming rather dangerous.”

Elizabeth looked out through the window and was startled to observe that parts of the lawn were pooling water. There had been a great deal of rain.

“Our carriage is not to return until after dinner,” Jane said doubtfully, and Bingley said, “Oh, I am certain it is no great problem, especially if we eat dinner a trifle early. Indeed, we can send you home in our carriage if yours is not available yet.”

***

Dining Room

Two Hours Later

Elizabeth murmured her thanks as Colonel Fitzwilliam assisted her in sitting down, and then watched as he took his place on one side of her and Mr. Darcy took the other.

She regarded this latter gentleman for a moment with a vague curiosity.

She had yet to speak to him at any great length, and she looked forward to learning more about his character and manner.

He seemed a quiet man, rather unlike the other gentlemen save for Mr. Hurst, who gave every impression of living only to eat.

At any rate, with the good colonel at her other hand, Elizabeth was at least guaranteed the prospect of a pleasant conversation over dinner.

She contemplated the generous spread of food on the table with sardonic amusement.

If Mrs. Bennet was prone to ordering absurdly lavish meals, Miss Bingley was even more so.

Elizabeth glanced down the table to her hostess who, with the return of the gentlemen of the party, had little attention to spare for the Bennet ladies.

At the moment, Miss Bingley was flirting indiscriminately with Lord Stanton and Sir Quinton, seated on either side of her.

Rather a rude place to put the two highest ranked members of the party, Elizabeth thought idly, at the foot of the table, but there was no doubt that Miss Bingley had chosen those seats as being most advantageous to herself.

At the head of the table, Mr. Bingley was far more interested in his company than his plate, his food sitting mostly neglected, his eyes fastened on the lovely Miss Bennet.

He was speaking to her at great length and with enthusiasm.

Jane responded politely but without marked emotion, and there was nothing in her mien or manner to indicate any inordinate pleasure in his conversation.

Elizabeth watched a moment, rather troubled.

She did not blame Jane for her cool aloofness, but it might be as well to give the gentleman a chance to prove himself.

And yet, was that necessarily true? As much as it would delight Mrs. Bennet for one of her daughters to marry a wealthy man, it was not imperative.

Their Aunt Amelia's generosity would keep them solvent when their father died.

If Jane was not amenable to Mr. Bingley's continued attentions, she was free to discourage them as she wished.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said, drawing her attention, “I understand that you are an enthusiastic reader. What kinds of books do you enjoy?”

She wondered how he knew of her delight in the written word, but merely said, “I like a great many books, Mr. Darcy, and what I choose to read very much depends on my mood at the time. At the moment, I am reading Robinson Crusoe again.”

“That is a truly fascinating book,” Darcy replied, a grin lighting up his face. “I remember as a child wishing that I would be shipwrecked on a deserted island, with no true understanding about the associated difficulties.”

Elizabeth regarded her companion with new eyes. She had expected Mr. Darcy to be the sort of intellectual who would disdain a book like Robinson Crusoe .

“I thought the same thing,” she said with a chuckle. “Now that I am older, I have more respect for the challenges of our fictional hero. The experience with the wheat, for example.”

“Indeed,” Darcy agreed quickly. “It is hard to imagine living somewhere without those crops, which are so vital to us.”

“Have you read the sequel, The Farther Adventures of Robinson Crusoe ?” Elizabeth asked.

“I have. It is interesting, but I did not like it nearly as much as the first book.”

She wrinkled her nose and said, “Well, I would still like to read it. For some reason, our circulating library does not have a copy.”

“I believe I have one at Darcy House in London. Perhaps I could send for it.”

“Oh!” Elizabeth replied in astonishment. “I would not wish to put you to the trouble, but thank you. Have you read any of de Foe’s other works?”

“I have,” Darcy said, just as a soft exclamation drew the attention of both to the head of the table.

The butler was leaning over to murmur in his master’s ear, and Bingley looked distressed.

“Thank you,” he said and turned to his assembled guests with an apologetic expression. “Misses Bennet, I regret to inform you that the bridge on the road to Netherfield has washed out.”

Elizabeth gasped in surprise and turned her gaze on Jane, who was looking back at her with consternation.

“Washed out?” Elizabeth asked weakly. “Do you mean that the entire bridge has been swept away?”

Bingley turned a questioning look on his butler, who said, “No, Miss, but one of the supports has cracked badly, and a number of planks have fallen into the rushing waters. It will need repairs before a carriage can cross it again.”

Elizabeth suppressed a groan. This was supremely frustrating news.

“You will need to stay tonight,” Mr. Bingley said authoritatively, “and tomorrow we can see about fixing that bridge.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Bingley,” Jane said in a carefully modulated tone.

“Why of course, it is our pleasure!” Mr. Bingley returned with a broad smile. “Now, I beg you not to worry at all, ladies. I am confident that by tomorrow, you will be able to return home, and if not, we are very pleased to have you here, are we not, Sisters?”

Miss Bingley responded in the affirmative, but Elizabeth, whose dislike of the woman was growing, was certain that she was actually dismayed.

It was one thing to enjoy the company of some of the ladies of the area when the gentlemen were elsewhere, but to have a trio of Bennets spending time with the very eligible gentlemen of Netherfield Hall was not the sort of thing to please an ambitious young lady.

Elizabeth was not altogether pleased either, but she was not in the habit of crying over spilled milk. It was still raining, and the bridge was damaged, so they would have to spend the night at the Hall.

“Thank you very much,” she said for all of them and took another drink of dinner wine.