Page 19 of Hidden Desires

“Thank you for the warning,” Darcy said with a chuckle that lacked conviction, “but I doubt I have much to worry about with Georgiana. She avoids the unfamiliar. Miss Lydia will have no luck persuading her to sneak off to Meryton, or anywhere else out of my sight.”

To Bennet’s ear, it sounded like a dismissal, and though he wished it were justified, Lydia’s influence on Kitty had proven strong enough to override caution. He could not force the man to heed the warning, but he could do his part to shield Miss Darcy from his daughter’s reach.

“As my father used to say, forewarned is forearmed,” he said, his conscience clear.

Darcy nodded. “Good advice. Your father sounds like a wise man.”

“In certain matters, yes. But he often let his prejudices cloud his judgment.”

Bennet led him to the young men waiting beside the stable. Their posture made it clear they had heard more of the conversation than they ought to have, but Bennet could not fault them. If he had wished to keep his discussion private, crossing the open yard was not the right choice.

“Allow me to introduce you,” he said, stopping before the group. “With Bingley’s permission, I put these men to work on the repairs. William, here, is responsible for the stable roof’s sorry condition.”

The servant, a broad-shouldered man with thick arms, glanced at his companions, his face paling with worry, which drew a laugh from Bennet.

“I meant that as a compliment,” he said, laughing again as the man’s expression eased. “Without your assault on those rotten shingles, the roof would be on the ground by now.”

Bennet turned to Mr. Darcy. “He is fearless up there, along with his companion, Wilson, who shares both his balance and his nerve.”

He shifted toward the third man, a youth whose face was still untouched by a razor.

“This is William’s younger brother. His task is to gather the shingles and rotten wood the others throw down.

We burn it at once to keep the woodworms from settling elsewhere in the stable or finding their way to other buildings on the estate. ”

Darcy turned to study the roof. His eyes moved from the exposed timbers to the pile of new shingles, freshly cut and ready for use.

“I want to tell you, Mr. Bennet, how grateful Bingley and I are for what you have done,” he said, his gaze steady. “You acted out of kindness. He wants to repay you, but he does not know how.”

“He owes me nothing,” Bennet said. “To be honest, my help was selfish. Netherfield’s decay has bothered me for years. When he spoke of restoring the property, I wanted to be part of it.”

Darcy smiled and shook his head. “If not for you, that decay would have continued.”

He stepped away from the servants and beckoned Bennet to follow. “This is Bingley’s first experience managing an estate,” he said when they were close. “His enthusiasm, though admirable, cannot carry the work alone. Your support has eased that burden, and I want to thank you.

Bennet regarded the man at his side, trying to judge whether his sincerity was genuine or an affectation adopted out of perceived obligation. Although his manner appeared honest, the man remained a stranger.

“Please, call me Bennet,” he said, deciding that the man’s response to a plea for help was proof enough of his worth. “I count Bingley as a friend and would like to do the same with you. What say we forget the formalities?”

Darcy looked him over, then gave a slow nod. “If you are willing, so am I. Now then, what about these ragamuffins you showed me? Are they ready to work, or would they rather stand about and watch?”

Bennet laughed and shook his head, then led Darcy back toward the men, who straightened at their approach.

“In my opinion, their clothing is perfect for the day’s work,” Bennet said, pointing at the roof behind them.

“I want them to finish removing the rotten shingles, which should take no more than two or three hours. After that, they will begin attaching the new ones. If the weather holds and we have a bit of good fortune, the repairs should be complete by the end of next week.”

Darcy nodded, his shoulders loosening. “Accepting your offer was the best decision Bingley has made since taking the lease,” he said with a short laugh. “At the time, I questioned his judgment, but he seems to enjoy the place.”

A grin spread across his face as he leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Of course, that was before I understood a certain beautiful young woman had caught his eye.” He stepped back without waiting for a reply, though the twinkle in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Let us get William to work before we continue our discussion. From what I see of the timbers, the braces and shingles are badly needed. Without them, a strong wind might level what remains of the structure.”

Bennet laughed, but he could not disagree. Had the weather been less forgiving, Darcy’s warning might already have come to pass.

Once instructions were given and the bonfire rekindled, the men returned to their work. Bennet and Darcy stood and watched as the servants cleared away the last of the shingles and stacked the new ones near the stable wall.

“Do they have enough nails?” Darcy asked, as the sharp clang of hammer striking metal rang through the yard. “You must have lost more than a few during the dismantling.”

Bennet smiled and pointed to a small barrel beside the stack of wood. Darcy watched as William approached the container, reached inside, and came out with a handful.

“The blacksmith calls them cut nails,” Bennet said, responding to the raised brow. “He heard about them, ordered a barrel, and convinced me to use them for the shingles.”

“Why not have him make what you need?”

Bennet nodded toward the roof, where William had already resumed work, attaching shingles with remarkable speed.

“These are made by machine in Birmingham. Each is the same size and weight. Unlike the hand-forged ones, they are identical, which allows for faster work. He can lay a shingle, place a nail, and strike it without wasting time examining the head. He does not need to study or adjust for irregularities. That alone allows him to finish more in a single day.”

Darcy watched in silence. William had hesitated at first, but as he grew accustomed to the new nails, his confidence and speed increased. Within ten minutes, he was fastening shingles at a pace Darcy had never witnessed.

“It seems the blacksmith knew what he was doing,” Bennet said, turning from the roof. “And the cost is lower than commissioning hand-forged nails. All things considered, his advice proved sound. Next time my carpenter makes repairs at Longbourn, I shall send him to Meryton for nails.”

With a final glance at the diligent servants, Bennet moved toward the garden and a waiting Bingley. The movement caught Darcy off guard, and he hurried to keep pace.

“I want to ask you about your plans for Netherfield’s orchard,” he said, gesturing toward the far side of the garden. “While I understand most of what you told Bingley, some of it is unclear.”

Bennet shook his head. “Can your questions wait? With you here and the servants occupied on the roof, I should return to Longbourn and see to matters there. Mrs. Bennet believes I have neglected my duties, and she may have a point. I can make myself available tomorrow, if that suits.”

“Tomorrow is fine,” Darcy said. “With your permission, I will bring Georgiana. As we expect to stay a month or more, I believe an introduction to your eldest daughters will benefit her.”

“By all means,” Bennet said with a firm nod. “Elizabeth enjoys meeting new people. I suspect Jane will call on Miss Bingley, but the other three should be home.”

Darcy studied him, the corners of his mouth curling. “For safety’s sake, and to spare my peace of mind, I will be sure to warn her to take care around your daughters. Although, as I said, I am not worried about any of them influencing her.”

“And I shall prepare Elizabeth for your arrival,” Bennet replied with a smile, noting the flicker of alarm that returned to Darcy’s eyes at his daughter’s name. “Be polite and treat her with respect. Lizzy is headstrong, but she does not hold a grudge. Your honest explanation should suffice.”

“I hope so,” Darcy said, though his tone lacked conviction.

“Well?” Bingley asked as they approached. “Is everything going according to plan? Does the progress meet your expectations? From what I can see, Bennet has everything well in hand.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bennet caught Miss Bingley’s scowl at her brother’s praise but ignored her sour expression. Drawing attention to it would only increase her needless resentment.

He noticed a spark of mischief in Darcy’s eyes, followed by a jesting remark.

“Where do I begin?” he said, his tone drawing attention from both siblings.

“The shingles are wrong and must be replaced. The fence repairs are unacceptable. I will have them pulled apart after returning from Longbourn tomorrow. Until then, we might as well call the men off the roof and let them enjoy the rest of the day. According to William, Bennet has worked them to the bone, and they need time to recover.”

The siblings responded as differently as two people could. Bingley’s face fell, concern drawing his brows together, while his sister’s lit up with a satisfied smirk.

“Are you certain?” Bingley asked, voice tight as his gaze shifted between them. “I thought everything was coming along. Bennet said nothing of concern, nor did either of the brothers.”

“I told you to hire a carpenter from London,” Miss Bingley said, tilting her head and crossing her arms. “If you had, we might have avoided this.”

“Hush, Caroline,” Bingley snapped, then turned to the men. Bennet suspected Darcy was working as hard to suppress laughter as he was.

“What is wrong with the repairs?” Bingley asked, mirroring his sister’s posture. “The rotten shingles are gone, the bonfire is lit, and the roof is going on now.”

“I know,” Darcy said, struggling to control his laughter. “But the new shingles are the wrong color. How can you tolerate them when they match nothing else on the property?”

Bingley stared, then punched his friend’s shoulder with a solid blow. “That will teach you to worry me.”

“I should have known,” he added, laughing along.

“On that note,” Bennet said, giving them both a wave, “it is time I returned home. I look forward to your visit tomorrow.”

As he left the garden, he caught Miss Bingley’s narrowed eyes and the gleam of something feral. Her head turned toward Darcy and her lips parted, but Bennet rounded the corner before she could speak.

What is she plotting now? That woman is the most selfish and unpleasant person I have met. Judging by Darcy’s expression, he agrees. Thank heaven she is not a guest at Longbourn. I doubt I could tolerate her for more than a day, if that.