Page 29 of Longbourn’s Son (Pride and Prejudice Variation #22)
“How is your brother today, Miss Bennet?” Mrs. Hurst asked as Mr. Bingley looked on with obvious concern.
“He is very well,” Jane answered, smiling down at Lydia, who was playing with Baby Christopher on the floor of the drawing room. “By the grace of God, the blacksmith intervened before any great harm could be done.”
“Thank God indeed!” Louisa said fervently, looking up as Mr. Bennet entered the room. “Mr. Bennet, I am so grateful that your son is safe.”
“I am as well, Mrs. Hurst,” Mr. Bennet replied, his expression softening at the sight of mother and baby. “It could have been a disaster, but Luke, while sore, is well enough to be out of bed. I am, however, a little surprised that he is not here in the drawing room.”
“Luke went to visit the horses in our stable ten minutes ago, Father,” Elizabeth explained. “He grew quite weary of his sisters fussing over him and claimed the need of fresh air. He pledged not to exert himself in the slightest, and we sent Kitty along to hold him to that promise.”
“I hope he will take care,” Mrs. Hurst said worriedly. “It would not do for him to injure himself further, and I understand he might have some broken ribs.”
“Kitty will keep him in line,” Elizabeth said with a chuckle. “It is part of their twin bond that Luke is quite amenable to her ordering him around if it is for his own good.”
“That is excellent,” Mr. Bingley said heartily. “Now, I know you are aware that we intend to have a ball at Netherfield in six days. Since it is important to us all that your family is able to attend, should we push it back to allow your brother to recover?”
The Bennet daughters exchanged quick glances, and Miss Bennet shook her head.
“I think that is not necessary, Mr. Bingley. Luke does not particularly enjoy dancing and would relish a good excuse for avoiding the exercise. Father, I believe you are willing to accompany us to a ball at Netherfield?”
Mr. Bennet, who was gazing at Louisa Hurst, nodded and said, “I would be delighted.”
“Wonderful!” Bingley said. “Miss Bennet, might I have the honor of dancing the first set with you at the ball?”
Jane considered briefly and nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Bingley.”
“Miss Elizabeth, might I have the honor of the first set?” Darcy asked courteously, watching the lady keenly.
Elizabeth looked surprised but said, “Thank you, sir. That would be very pleasant. May I inquire as to whether Colonel Fitzwilliam intends to return for the ball?”
Darcy was suddenly aware of a peculiar stab of envy; was Elizabeth interested in his cousin, in spite of Richard’s poorer prospects?
His dismay must have shown on his face because Elizabeth looked rather confused, but before he could determine what to say, Louisa Hurst explained, “I spoke to the colonel before he departed for London with Wickham and urged him to return for the ball. He said that he would attempt to come, though his military duties might prevent his return.”
“Wonderful! I know many of our friends will enjoy dancing with a colonel in the Regulars,” Elizabeth said cheerfully, and turned back to Darcy, who had wrestled his countenance under control to present its usual calm facade.
“Now, Mr. Darcy, what can you tell me about goats? Luke is considering purchasing a herd, and I offered to seek out information about them. Do you have any goats at Pemberley?”
/
“Is Miss Bennet not an angel, Louisa?” Bingley enthused as the carriage rolled back toward Netherfield. “She is beautiful, yes, but also serene and so very kind.”
“She is a marvelous young lady,” Louisa Hurst agreed, planting a kiss on her son’s downy head. The baby had thoroughly enjoyed being cossetted by the Bennet daughters, but all that activity had worn him out, and he was now fast asleep with his head leaning against his mother’s shoulder.
“But then, they all are,” Mrs. Hurst continued.
“They are a truly charming family, with a delightful devotion to one another. Young Mister Bennet is a most diligent young man, which must be a relief to his sisters, all of whom depend on his well-being for their future. There are many young men who would disdain their responsibilities to their female relations, but not Mister Bennet.”
“The Bennet ladies are certain to marry, are they not, and marry well?” Bingley argued, his color a little heightened. “They are such handsome young women, after all.”
“There is a dearth of eligible young men thanks to the war,” Darcy pointed out. “I noted at the ball at Meryton that single men were scarce.”
“Nonetheless,” Bingley began, and then continued more rapidly, “I hope to marry Miss Bennet myself. Do you think she cares for me as I care for her?”
Darcy and Louisa Hurst exchanged glances, and Louisa sat back to let her baby rest his head more comfortably against her shoulder.
“I do not know, Charles,” she confessed. “Miss Bennet is such a serene woman, and while she is always agreeable in company, I cannot tell if she is particularly attached to you.”
“I agree, Bingley,” Darcy said. “She is, without a doubt, an excellent young woman, but I do not think she loves you.”
“Well, then, I must win her,” Bingley said determinedly. “But come, Darcy, tell me about your time with Miss Elizabeth. I believe I heard something about sheep?”
“Goats,” Darcy corrected. “Her brother is interested in developing a herd of sturdy goats, and she wondered if I had experience.”
“Do you?”
“A little. We have several tenant farmers who keep goats, and we have discussed their characteristics on occasion. Pemberley does not maintain its own herd of goats, but after my discussion with the lady, I am inclined to consider rectifying that oversight. They are hardier and more intelligent than sheep and can eat a wider variety of food.”
The threesome lapsed into silence, which permitted Darcy to evaluate his recent interaction with the second Bennet sister.
Miss Elizabeth had not gazed at him soulfully, or fluttered her lashes, or spoken in coquettish tones.
She had discussed, with great fervor and no embarrassment, the characteristics of goats.
She obviously looked upon him primarily as an expert in animal husbandry and was eager to soak up any knowledge he could impart on the matter of goats.
Richard was right; the lady was not pursuing him in any way.
Moreover, it was entirely possible that Miss Elizabeth would refuse him if he asked today for her hand in marriage.
Not that he intended to propose, not yet, but it was still an incredible thought that a woman with poor connections and little wealth might reject him.
He liked her very much, he realized, more than he had ever liked a woman outside his own family.
Miss Elizabeth was genuine and intelligent and kind and devoted to her family.
Richard was right – she might be his perfect match, but could he win Miss Elizabeth without the trappings of wealth and connections to assist him?
He truly did not know.
/
Richard Fitzwilliam stepped through the front door of Netherfield and halted as a housemaid, her arms full of towels, rushed by in a frenzy.
A moment later, the butler stepped forward and bowed.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, it is good to see you again. I confess we expected you a little later, and with all the preparations for the ball tonight, your room has not yet been prepared. Would you care to join Miss Bingley and Miss Darcy in the sitting room for tea, or perhaps wait for Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley in the library? The gentlemen are out riding.”
“I would be delighted to have tea with the ladies,” the colonel said, and followed the butler down one side of the wide front hall, passing numerous servants bustling around with plates and cutlery and candles.
Miss Bingley and Georgiana were seated side by side on a couch near the fire, both looking down at several pieces of paper in the older woman’s hands.
Georgiana, who was smothering a yawn, leaped to her feet at the sight of her cousin and rushed forward to embrace him.
“Richard! I am so glad you were able to come back to Netherfield!”
“I am pleased as well, sweetling. Good morning, Miss Bingley. I hope you are both well?”
“I am!” Georgiana said brightly, though her eyes were tired. “Miss Bingley and I have been going over the last minute details for the ball tonight. It is very interesting.”
Richard’s mouth twitched. He knew his young cousin well enough to realize that her cheery tone was masking significant irritation; no doubt Georgiana had experienced a surfeit of Miss Bingley’s abrasive personality.
“It is my pleasure to teach you such skills,” Miss Bingley said, adding in a condescending tone, “not that such hard work is necessary for the people here in Meryton, but it is all good practice for more important parties in the future. At any rate, the locals will no doubt find it quite one of the most delightful evenings of their lives; I suspect many of them have never been to a ball hosted by a superior family like ours!”
“You may be correct,” Richard said, suppressing a desire to roll his eyes.
Georgiana let out an exasperated huff, which caused the colonel to turn to her and say, “Now if memory serves me, Georgiana, you usually practice the pianoforte at this time of the day? As our aunt Lady Catherine says, you really must practice faithfully if you are to continue improving your skills on the instrument.”
His cousin nodded quickly and said, “Yes, you are quite right. I will see you at dinner, I hope?”
“Of course.”
He waited for her to leave, ensuring that the drawing room door was open for propriety’s sake, and turned back to his hostess. “Thank you for allowing me to visit again, Miss Bingley, especially when the house is quite at sixes and sevens with the ball tonight.”
“Oh, we are very pleased to have you here,” Miss Bingley assured him, sitting down and pouring a cup of tea with milk for her guest. “Nor are we in any particular disarray. The arrangements for the ball are entirely in hand; no doubt a young lady like Miss Darcy would be out of her depth, but I have significant experience in managing such things.”
“I have no doubt you do,” the colonel said gravely, accepting the tea and taking a welcome, warm sip. “I am sure my young cousin is grateful for your instruction, as she will be required to host parties at Pemberley.”
“Ah, yes,” Miss Bingley said, deliberately infusing worry into her tone.
“I do hope that Miss Darcy will enjoy such tasks; she is a diligent and gifted young lady, but not, I think, nearly ready to take on the burden of managing a vast estate like Pemberley. She is, of course, still very young; it is a pity that it will be some years before she is ready to provide the necessary oversight to the servants and staff at Pemberley.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam, easily discerning the true message of these stately lines, glanced at the door to ensure that he and Miss Bingley would not be overheard and decided on blunt honesty.
“Darcy will never marry you, Miss Bingley,” he said quietly. “You should lay aside that ambition and seek another gentleman as a husband.”
Caroline Bingley gasped and her face paled, save for two bright red spots which appeared on her cheekbones. She clenched her jaw and took two deep breaths before saying, in measured tones, “I do not believe that you know your cousin well enough to make such a pronouncement, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“I am more brother than cousin,” the colonel declared, leaning forward to collect a biscuit from a plate near the teapot, “and I believe I know him as well as any man save, perhaps, your brother Bingley. You are not well suited for Darcy, nor he for you.”
“Why not?” Caroline hissed angrily. “I am handsome, well-dowered, educated at one of the finest seminaries in England, and skilled at managing a household. I am Mr. Darcy’s perfect match.”
Her guest sighed and said, “No, you are not, I promise you. You like the city and despise the country, whereas he finds the crushes of the London Season unpleasant. You disdain rural society, which is hardly an estimable trait for the mistress of Pemberley; the nearby villages of Lambton and Kympton are much like Meryton, with few inhabitants who are members of the high society you adulate. No, Darcy is, at heart, a man of the earth and of the country whereas you are made for the bright lights and amusements of the city.”
“That does not matter,” Miss Bingley insisted, a note of desperation in her voice.
“Pemberley is one of the most beautiful estates in the country, and I would thoroughly enjoy spending a few months there every year. As for the rest of the time – you know as well as I do, sir, that wives and husbands do not have to live in one another’s pockets. ”
“That view of marital happiness is a common one, but it will not do for my cousin; his parents made a true love match, you see.”
“A love match! Do not be absurd, Colonel! Romantic ecstasies are for peasants, not members of the upper classes.”
Richard’s sharp ears caught the sound of Darcy’s distinctive voice in the hall outside and he rose to his feet, looking down at the woman with exasperated sympathy.
“You can discount my advice, Miss Bingley, and continue to pursue my cousin, but in the end, you will merely waste your time and find only disappointment.”