Page 8 of Longbourn’s Son (Pride and Prejudice Variation #22)
“Mr. Bingley, a Mr. Bennet and three of his daughters have arrived to visit you,” Bingley’s butler announced.
Charles Bingley, who had been meekly working through accounts in the study with Darcy, leaped to his feet with alacrity. “Thank you, I will be there in a moment. Darcy, perhaps we can return to this later in the day?”
“As you wish,” Darcy responded. On one hand, he was mildly irritated at his friend’s disinclination to sort through Netherfield’s muddled financials; on the other hand, he looked forward to furthering his acquaintance with the Bennets.
Bingley nearly skipped out of the study and into the front hall, where the master of Longbourn and his three eldest daughters were divesting themselves of outerwear.
“Mr. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Mary,” Bingley said jovially. “Welcome to Netherfield!”
“Thank you, sir,” Bennet responded, bowing as the ladies curtsied.
Bingley’s eyes focused immediately on the handsome countenance of Miss Bennet, but Darcy, rather to his surprise, found his own gaze fixed on Miss Elizabeth.
The lady’s eyes were bright and her cheeks pleasantly flushed from the outside wind.
One riotous brown curl had escaped her coiffure, and he experienced an alien desire to tuck it back into place.
“I have not yet been outside today, but it seems chilly?” Bingley suggested, guiding his guests toward the drawing room.
“Yes, it is quite brisk at the moment, though I daresay it will moderate later,” Elizabeth responded. “The sun is out and our butler, who has a sense for such things, declares the wind will fall as the morning progresses.”
“We are intending to ride out later, and I for one am pleased with the cooler temperatures of autumn,” Darcy commented, and then was surprised that he had spoken so comfortably. He usually was far more taciturn in company.
Bingley held open the drawing room door for the ladies, and they passed within. Darcy, at the rear of the company, was startled by a delighted squeal, which he soon discovered was due to the presence of Christopher Hurst.
Bingley smiled fondly as the Bennet daughters clustered around Mrs. Hurst and her little son.
Mother and child were occupying a comfortably padded chair near the fire, and the infant’s eyes were half closed, his little round cheeks pink and his breathing steady.
Miss Bingley was the only other occupant in the room, and based on her expression, she was not in a pleasant mood.
“Mr. Bennet, Misses Bennet, may I please introduce my sister, Mrs. Hurst, and her little son, Christopher?” the master of Netherfield said. “Louisa, Mr. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Mary.”
“Oh, please do not rise,” Mary cried impulsively as Mrs. Hurst made as if to stand up. “I know that babies often grow quite indignant when they are shifted from their desired positions.”
Mrs. Hurst relaxed and chuckled. “That is true enough. Christopher is tired and will fall asleep happily in my arms, but if I stand up and move, he will likely wail.”
“Given that we have guests, Louisa, you must give the baby to the nurse,” Miss Bingley declared, her eyes snapping.
“Oh please do not send him away on our account,” Mary cooed as she took a seat near Mrs. Hurst. “I adore babies most of all things.”
“I am surprised you have much experience with infants,” Miss Bingley commented disdainfully.
“I am fortunate, Miss Bingley, in having three very diligent daughters who assist the tenants of my estate,” Mr. Bennet said, stepping a little closer to the fire to warm his hands.
“Jane often assists with the children, Mary with the infants, and Elizabeth gives guidance to the farmers regarding crop rotation and husbandry.”
“I find your knowledge of such things to be quite remarkable, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said, seating himself near the second Bennet daughter.
Elizabeth’s lips quirked upwards. “In truth, Mr. Darcy, it is my brother Luke who is the true expert; he has genuine passion for such things. Unfortunately, he does not always deal tactfully with the farmers; my role is often to rephrase his more strident suggestions into something more palatable.”
Darcy nodded with understanding. When he had inherited Pemberley, he had attempted to make drastic changes in the way certain farms were managed, arrogantly certain that his book knowledge would bring about improved yields.
Sometimes he was wrong, sometimes he was right, but his initial attempts to manage his underlings had caused great resentment.
Now, at eight and twenty years, Fitzwilliam Darcy recognized and appreciated the wisdom and notions of the older tenants, and that it was unwise to ruffle their feathers excessively by forcing his ideas upon them.
Young Luke Bennet was fortunate that his father still lived and the youth was not yet required to oversee the estate.
He was unfortunate, it seemed, to have a father who was far more interested in chess than in the care of the land which supplied for the needs and wants of the Bennet family.
At least the man’s daughters were eager and willing to assist with the tenants, which was remarkable.
“Speaking of husbandry, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, “may I ask whether you have knowledge of poultry and geese? My brother is interested in expanding our population of fowl, but he lacks knowledge.”
Darcy sat down near her and leaned a little closer to the lady. “I would not call myself an expert, Miss Elizabeth, but yes, I have read some pamphlets and reports on the best ways to manage birds...”
Jane found chickens, ducks, and turkeys loud and noxious save for when they were served at the dinner table, but she knew that Elizabeth was genuinely interested in the topic.
Since Miss Bingley was staring at the twosome with an outraged expression, Jane was certain the lady would interrupt Lizzy and Mr. Darcy if given the chance.
“Miss Bingley,” Jane said with a charming smile, “please, you must tell me about your dress! I declare I have never seen anything so beautiful!”
This was not entirely true; the garment in question was obviously expensive, but it was covered with too much lace, and the silk turban on the lady’s head was overly fine for a morning at home.
Jane was hopeful, however, that such a question would keep Miss Bingley engaged for some time. She was correct.
“Oh, this old thing?” Miss Bingley inquired with a smug brush of her skirt. “I bought this a full year ago, and it is no longer entirely in fashion, but I thought it good enough for Netherfield in the morning. I do flatter myself that it becomes me very well…”
“Mrs. Hurst,” Mary Bennet murmured from her position near Bingley’s older sister, “forgive me for my impertinence, but may I ask when you were bereaved?”
Louisa Hurst glanced sadly at the lavender skirt which signaled her status as a widow in half mourning and said, “It has been seven months now, Miss Mary. My husband and I were in a carriage accident; I broke my arm, and my husband died of his injuries.”
“I am so very sorry,” Mary responded, her eyes glistening with sympathy. “I cannot imagine how hard it must have been; I believe that the child had not yet been born?”
Louisa nodded and felt tears fill her eyes. “I was some six months along and was terrified the baby would be harmed; by the grace of God, he was born full term and healthy.”
“I apologize for bringing up such painful memories, Mrs. Hurst,” Mary said contritely.
“Please do not apologize,” the lady responded, planting a kiss on the fuzzy head of her now sleeping baby.
“I find it comforting to speak of my husband, who was a good man. It is very sad that my little one will never know his father, but Charles is a kindly and generous uncle, and I am grateful for that.”
Mary looked over at Mr. Bingley, who was now seated next to Jane, involved in a conversation with the lovely eldest Miss Bennet and Miss Bingley. “There is much to be said for a good-hearted brother, Mrs. Hurst.”
/
“Kitty!”
The second youngest Bennet daughter looked up from her perch on the fence and waved at Maria Lucas, who was hurrying toward her friend.
“Kitty! How are you today?” the younger Miss Lucas inquired before turning her distracted attention on the three people hovering over a fluffy sheep beyond the fence. “What are Luke and Lydia doing with your shepherd?”
“They are checking on the ewes of the Home Farm. Most of the sheep were bred last month and should be pregnant, and several of the females will be first time mothers. Luke insisted on checking them over with Richards.”
Maria shook her head in bewilderment. “Surely that is the duty of Richards?”
“It is, of course,” Kitty agreed with a fond look at her brother, “but Luke wishes to learn more about sheep. He is planning to purchase a few of a different type for cross breeding purposes. I do not pretend to understand any of it, but Luke is fascinated.”
Maria nodded without comment. While she applauded Luke Bennet’s devotion to his estate, she did not comprehend why Kitty trotted along after her brother when she had very little interest in sheep and cows and chickens.
Then again, she was not a twin. There was a special and beautiful devotion between Luke and Kitty, one that Maria vaguely knew she would never entirely understand.
“Good day, Maria!” Lydia called out, and Kitty and Maria looked up as Luke and Lydia approached them.
“Are the sheep looking well, Luke?” Kitty asked.
“Yes, they all seem healthy,” Luke declared happily. “Good morning, Maria. How are you?”
The girl bounced on her feet and said, “I am very well. I saw something terribly exciting this morning; the first members of the militia regiment have arrived!”
The three Bennets exchanged amused glances at this. Maria Lucas was the twins’ age, but more empty headed than any of the Bennets. She had long held a tendre for Luke Bennet, but was flighty enough to be easily infatuated with a handsome military man in a red coat.
Kitty said kindly, “That is very exciting, Maria. It will be pleasant to have additional officers to attend the assemblies and dinner parties.”
“Yes, the officers look so very fine in their red coats, and their horses are quite marvelous.”
Luke Bennet, whose attention had drifted back to the vagaries of sheep, lurched forward an excited step. “Horses, Maria? What kind of horses?”
“Well, I do not know,” Maria said merrily. “I know very little about horses. But several of the officers were riding very fine looking beasts. I daresay you will like the horses if not the men.”
Luke chuckled reluctantly at this and nodded. “That is true enough. I have plenty to keep me busy on the estate without spending much time visiting officers, but if they have horses ... well, I wonder where they are being stabled?”
“Perhaps our aunt Philips can find that out,” Lydia suggested slyly, provoking a communal laugh. Mrs. Emma Philips, sister to the deceased Mrs. Bennet, was an inveterate gossipmonger.
“Would you care to walk into Meryton with me and visit your aunt?” Maria asked hopefully.
“Luke and I cannot,” Lydia insisted. “He promised to climb a tree with me.”
Maria blinked in astonishment as Kitty and Luke exchanged a long glance. Kitty turned to her friend and said, “I would be delighted to walk with you, Maria. Luke, can you join me at our aunt’s in an hour?”
“Of course.”
The youngest Miss Bennet and the heir of Longbourn strode off together, leaving Maria staring after them in astonishment and disapproval. “Lydia is still climbing trees at her age, Kitty? Do you not think she is too old for such antics?”
Kitty gently took her friend’s arm, and they began walking along the narrow lane which led to the main road.
“Lydia is very energetic,” Kitty explained, “and if she does not get sufficient exercise, it is difficult for her to sit still. She has a lesson with her music master this afternoon and needs a vigorous clamber up a tree, or she will not be calm enough to focus on playing the harp. Of course we would not permit her to be alone, but with Luke along, she will come to no harm.”
Maria shrugged and said, “It seems very odd to me. I cannot imagine my mother allowing such a thing.”
Kitty chuckled ruefully as the two girls achieved the main road to Meryton.
“Mrs. Bennet would have fainted at the very thought of her fifteen year old daughter climbing trees,” she admitted, “but I am confident that Jane and Lizzy have determined the right approach for Lydia. If they kept her tied to a parlor sewing samplers, she would go quite mad. As it is, Lydia lives a vigorous life and can manage a few hours doing her lessons or conversing sensibly with visitors.”