Page 18 of Longbourn’s Son (Pride and Prejudice Variation #22)
“I hope you enjoy pheasant, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Bingley said cheerfully to his new guest as the party gathered in the drawing room before dinner.
“Darcy and I snatched a few hours yesterday to hunt, and we caught four braces of birds between us. Our cook has promised us a delicious dish of pheasant tonight.”
“I am very fond of pheasant, both as prey and as dinner,” Fitzwilliam responded cheerfully. “You are fortunate, sir, to have such fine hunting grounds on an estate so close to London.”
“Yes, I believe I am fortunate,” Bingley agreed. “I presume you have substantial hunting experience, Colonel?”
“I spent many hours of my misspent youth hunting, but of late my military duties have not coincided with opportunities to shoot pheasant. Perhaps we will have an opportunity to go out together soon, if weather permits?”
“Does that mean that you will be able to stay for a good while, Richard?” Georgiana asked eagerly of her favorite cousin. The colonel smiled down at the girl, delighted at the light and life in a face which had been dismal and depressed after the near disaster at Ramsgate.
“I have leave to stay for some time, yes,” he said, “though I promise you, Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, I have no desire to overstay my welcome.”
“Naturally, we are delighted to have you here, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Miss Bingley simpered, batting her lashes at the man.
“Any relation of Mr. Darcy is a friend of ours. I will say, however, that the local society is rather provincial and unvarying; you will doubtless find our neighbors dull indeed.”
“I already had the honor of meeting two members of the Bennet family and found them enchanting,” Fitzwilliam returned, his eyes glinting in amusement as Miss Bingley frowned in consternation.
“Did you meet Miss Bennet?” Bingley asked eagerly.
“I met two Miss Bennets, though I am not certain if one was the eldest.”
“You met Miss Elizabeth and Miss Kitty Bennet; their elder sister, Jane Bennet, is the eldest of the daughters,” Darcy explained.
“Is she as lovely as her sisters?”
“She is the most handsome of them all,” Bingley declared, his eyes shining enthusiastically.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had been much impressed with Elizabeth’s pretty features and beautiful brown curls, said, “I confess that is astonishing given Miss Elizabeth’s beauty.”
“Oh, my brother is correct that Jane Bennet is the best looking of the Bennet girls,” Caroline asserted. “It is well for them that most of them are handsome, as none of them are accomplished.”
“Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary play the pianoforte,” Georgiana pointed out.
“Yes, if you call that playing,” Caroline said with a sniff. “I fear that with so many daughters, they have not had the opportunity to study with the best masters.”
“I quite enjoy listening to Miss Elizabeth play,” Georgiana returned stoutly.
Darcy smiled approvingly at his sister, proud of her determination to defend her friend. The door to the drawing room opened and the butler entered to announce dinner.
/
“Tell me about Miss Bingley, Darcy,” Richard requested. The two men had retired to Darcy’s private sitting room, and Richard was seated on a cushioned chair near the fire with his legs stretched out casually.
“What about Miss Bingley?” Darcy asked, removing the stopper on the brandy bottle.
“She kept making disdainful comments about the locals, which I found annoying. Is she always a termagant?”
Darcy chuckled as he poured amber liquid into two glasses.
“Not always, certainly, but too often. She is an inveterate social climber and wishes for her brother to marry into society’s upper crust. He is currently pursuing the eldest Miss Bennet, who may be one of the loveliest women in the kingdom, and Miss Bingley is attempting to dampen his ardor by abusing the Bennets at every opportunity. ”
“I am surprised Bingley puts up with that, if he truly cares for Miss Bennet.”
Darcy strolled over to the fire and turned around, relishing the warmth against the back of his legs.
“Bingley has always been a tractable soul and does not care to argue with his stronger-willed sister. In any case, I doubt his interest in Miss Bennet will last; I have often seen him in love before. As for Miss Bingley, I find her quite tiresome. Her greatest desire is to be my wife, and thus she takes every opportunity to ingratiate herself with me and Georgiana.”
“I wondered about that,” the colonel mused, taking an appreciative sip of brandy.
“Yes. There is, of course, no chance of such a thing. Even if I were not partially promised to our mutual cousin, Anne, I would not marry Miss Bingley. She is not attractive to me either by birth or temperament.”
Richard Fitzwilliam arched an eyebrow and asked, “So you do consider yourself promised to Anne?”
Darcy sighed and lowered himself into a chair across from his cousin. He stared at the flickering yellow flames in the fireplace for a full minute before commenting, “Lady Catherine believes that I am promised to her daughter.”
“Yes, she does.”
“I believe Lord Matlock also expects that Anne and I will make a match of it, thus combining the estates of Pemberley and Rosings.”
“My father has mentioned that possibility a few times, yes.”
“Am I to gather from your tone that you disapprove of our unofficial cradle engagement?”
Richard Fitzwilliam stared at his boots, noting absently that they were in desperate need of polishing.
“It is not that I disapprove, exactly,” he answered slowly, “but since Anne is four and twenty, and you are eight and twenty, it seems that the principle participants in this charming plan are not themselves overly enthused at the prospect of marrying one another.”
Darcy grimaced at this and was silent for another minute, after which he nodded reluctantly. “It is true, Richard. I do not love Anne except in a dutiful way, and I feel no enthusiasm for the match. More than that…”
He rose to his feet, strode forward and backwards on the carpet several times, and then turned to look down at his cousin.
“More than that, I worry about Anne’s fragile health.
Pemberley needs an heir, and so does Rosings.
I fear that our cousin, who has been sickly since birth, is not well enough to carry a child. ”
The colonel nodded and said, “I quite agree with you, Darcy. I believe there is a significant chance that Anne would not survive a pregnancy.”
“So you do not think I should marry her?”
“I do not think you should marry her.”
The master of Pemberley scowled and demanded, “If you believe that, why have you not said such a thing before now?”
“When could I? We have not been together so very much these last years, Darcy, with my military duties keeping me busy. I will also confess that I felt hesitant to discourage you; Rosings is a great prize.”
“I assure you that Pemberley is quite enough for any man. But if I do not marry Anne, what will happen to her? When Lady Catherine dies, Anne will inherit Rosings. She is hardly capable of administering a vast estate given her state of health.”
“If she asks for our assistance, we will ensure that she has a most reliable steward. Come, Darcy, it is foolish for you to throw yourself into marital shackles when you have no desire to marry our cousin. Furthermore, I have no reason to think that Anne desires to marry you, or anyone for that matter.”
Darcy, rather to his astonishment, felt as if a great burden had suddenly slid off his shoulders. He had not realized how unhappy he had been at the prospect of marrying Anne de Bourgh and acquiring Lady Catherine as a mother in law.
He found himself grinning rather foolishly into the fire as Richard looked on in amusement. The colonel allowed two minutes to pass before he murmured, “Darcy?”
“Yes?” Darcy returned happily. Really, he was overjoyed that he would not have to deal with Lady Catherine more than once a year, when he went to Rosings for his annual visit.
“There is one problem,” his cousin drawled.
“What is that?” Darcy demanded, striding over to pour himself a celebratory glass of brandy.
“Now you need to find another woman to marry.”
/
Charles Bingley hesitated in the corridor before knocking on the nursery door.
Louisa’s personal maid opened the door and bobbed a quick curtsey; “Yes, sir?”
“Is Mrs. Hurst available?”
“Come in, Charles,” his sister called out, and Bingley gratefully took a few steps into the room, smiling at the charming sight of mother and child in a rocking chair.
The baby was leaning against his mother’s chest with his thumb stuck firmly in his mouth and his blue eyes half closed in drowsiness.
“You and the babe make a truly delightful picture, Louisa,” Bingley said. In that moment he felt a sudden surge of longing that he had never felt before, to marry and to have children, to settle down and no longer be searching frantically for the quintessential woman to wed.
“Thank you, Brother. I never feel so alive and fulfilled as when he is in my arms. Children are a blessing.”
“They are,” Bingley agreed fervently. “Indeed, that is why I wished to speak to you. I was wondering…”
He trailed off in some embarrassment and his sister, who wore an expression of amused confusion, gestured to a chair. “Do sit down, Charles. What are you wondering?”
He sat down across from his sister and took a moment to look around the nursery, which was a hastily converted bedroom at the far end of the family wing.
It was larger than most of the bedrooms, but its furnishings were rather old fashioned and the curtains, originally dark blue, had faded in the sun.
“Louisa, if you wish to refurbish this room, I hope you will not hesitate to do so. I am happy to bear the expense.”
His sister gazed around in surprise and then chuckled. “Thank you, Charles, but it is not necessary. One of the pleasant things about a baby is that he cares for little more than loving arms, a comfortable bed, milk, and blankets. I do not care in the least whether the furniture is up to date.”
“Very well,” Bingley responded, and ran a finger under his collar, which felt too tight. “That is not why I am here. Caroline suggested that you might be, er, that you and Mr. Bennet are, well, erm...”
He felt his face heat up as Louisa smirked at him. “Caroline suggested that Mr. Bennet and I are courting? Is that it?”
“Yes,” he answered, and then added hopefully, “It is not true, then?”
“I would not describe it as courting, precisely,” the lady responded calmly, “but I do like Mr. Bennet very much, and I believe he returns my regard. We have a great deal in common, you know; he is a passionate historian, somewhat like my late husband, although Mr. Bennet has wider interests. My Zachary was fascinated by the monuments at Stonehenge and Avebury, but his curiosity did not extend much farther afield.”
“Is not Mr. Bennet rather too old for you, Louisa?”
“He is but four and forty, having married young. I am only thirteen years younger than he, which is not so very much.”
Her brother grimaced. “I see. In any case, you are still in half mourning, so I assume you would not accept an offer for at least a few months?”
Louisa scowled at him in irritation. “Why do you not wish me to marry Mr. Bennet, Charles? I am not certain he will offer, nor that I would accept if he did, but do you have something against the man? If so, it would behoove you to express yourself clearly now, before our friendship can proceed any further.”
“No, I have nothing against Mr. Bennet, I assure you. It is just that, well, I am much attracted to Miss Jane Bennet, and if you were to marry her father, it seems that it would be…”
Louisa, her good humor quite restored, said, “Awkward? My poor, dear brother, I do beg of you not to worry about such a thing at this juncture. You and Miss Bennet, who is indeed a delightful girl, may never progress in your friendship such that you make her an offer. Mr. Bennet and I have a similarity of mind which I find intellectually pleasant, and I would like to marry again, but as you said, I am not yet out of half mourning. You are borrowing trouble, Charles, I assure you. Does not the Word of God tell us ‘sufficient for the day is its own trouble’?”
Bingley gazed down at his sister and forced himself to smile. “You are correct, of course, Louisa. Much has yet to be determined in our concourse with the Bennets. I hope that if Mr. Bennet does offer, that you will tell me?”
“Of course,” Louisa returned calmly, “though I warn you that as I am one and thirty, a widow, and a mother, I have no intention of asking your permission whether to wed Mr. Bennet or not. I will make that decision based on my own understanding of what will bring me and my son happiness.”
“Certainly, dear sister. I would have it no other way,” he assured her.