Page 1 of Mission to Meryton (Pride and Prejudice Variation #25)
Hertfordshire, England
Fitzwilliam Darcy, master of the grand estate of Pemberley in Derbyshire, smiled reassuringly at his younger sister, “We must be nearly there, Georgiana.”
Georgiana Darcy, sixteen years of age, stretched her arms and looked out the window at the scenery of Hertfordshire, “I will be glad to arrive, Fitzwilliam, though it has been a short, easy journey from London. I know none of us have forgotten that dreadful trek to Pemberley a few months ago, when we were hindered by that horrible rainstorm which turned the roads into a quagmire.”
“I daresay none of us have forgotten that, Miss Darcy,” Mrs. Younge, Georgiana’s companion, agreed with a chuckle. “That inn was full to the bursting with waylaid travelers, and we were fortunate to find two small rooms directly above the pub itself.”
“It was terribly loud,” her charge concurred, shaking her head. “It seems astonishing to me that people could literally stay up all night long!”
“Generally, such people stay in bed until noon or later,” Darcy commented, “and that is not to either of our liking.”
“Definitely not,” Georgiana declared. “The morning is quite the best part of the day!”
Silence fell between them, and Darcy found his thoughts drifting once again toward his cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam.
There had been hope that perhaps Richard would be well enough to spend time at Hertfordshire with Darcy’s friend, Mr. Bingley, but when the time came, the former colonel of the Regulars had not felt capable of being the guest of even such a genial host as Charles Bingley.
Darcy was not aware that he had sighed until he felt Georgiana’s gentle touch on his hand.
He looked up to see her gazing at him sympathetically, “Are you thinking of Richard?”
“Yes, my dear, I am.”
The girl’s eyes filled with tears, “I do wish he was better, Brother. It is so hard seeing him so unwell. Worse than that ...”
She trailed away and Mrs. Younge spoke authoritatively, “War does dreadful things to men, Miss Darcy. I am certain that in time, Colonel Fitzwilliam’s health and well-being will improve, especially given the devotion of his mother and sisters.”
“I pray you are right,” Georgiana murmured, turning her face to gaze at the passing countryside.
“We all pray for that, Georgie,” Darcy asserted, and indeed he sought God’s favor every day for his cousin, Richard, who had fallen into French hands after being wounded in the battle of Corunna.
Richard had spent more than two long years as a prisoner of war, only to miraculously escape and make his way to English shores four months previously.
Richard, as the younger son of an earl, had not been badly treated by the French, but his wounds still pained him, and he had suffered mentally in the aftermath of battle and in captivity.
Thus far, he remained sequestered at Matlock House in London, not yet ready to venture out into the wider world.
Darcy sighed again, remembering the agony of those months when Richard was in captivity.
Darcy was no soldier or sailor, but he was determined to do all he could to end this long war against Napoleon and the French, and thus would strive with heart and soul and strength to fulfill his current mission.
He was an Englishman, and a loyal servant of the King, and Richard was more brother than cousin. He would do his best.
Mrs. Younge, who had been staring with interest at the green hills flowing by the carriage, broke into his thoughts, “I believe that must be Netherfield Hall, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy and his sister craned their heads to watch the approach of an impressive red brick building, and the coachman turned the horses into a drive which led up to the imposing edifice of the mansion.
A moment later, the coach halted, and Darcy opened the door and helped out first his sister, and then Mrs. Younge.
It was, he decided on first glance, an attractive building, neither run down nor overly ostentatious. It was not Pemberley, of course, but nothing was.
“Darcy!” a male voice shouted, and the three travelers turned as a handsome, red-headed man of some three and twenty summers raced haphazardly down the steps leading to the main door. Behind him were Bingley’s two finely dressed sisters, who descended more sedately.
“Bingley!” Darcy exclaimed, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “It is a pleasure to see you. Thank you for inviting us.”
“We are honored! Welcome to Netherfield Park, Miss Darcy, Mrs. Younge.”
Both ladies curtsied to Bingley, and then turned to the newcomers who had now joined them.
“Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley,” Georgiana said, curtsying again. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Louisa and I are delighted to see you, Miss Darcy, and I am quite certain that Charles has been counting the days until you arrived,” Caroline Bingley gushed. “We are honored to have you and Mr. Darcy staying with us for a time, even if the neighborhood is quite provincial.”
“I like the country,” Georgiana commented placidly, “especially after several weeks in London, which is exceptionally noisy at times.”
“Well, please come inside, all of you,” Miss Bingley invited. “I am certain you wish to refresh yourselves after your long journey!”
“Miss Bingley, would you kindly look after my sister and Mrs. Younge while I take a few moments to speak with your brother? I have a great longing to stretch my legs and look about the estate at least a little.”
“Of course, Mr. Darcy, of course! Please do come this way!”
/
Elizabeth Bennet took a deep, rapturous breath out the bedroom window and smiled at her elder sister, Jane. “I do adore autumn! It is such a pleasure to enjoy cooler temperatures, and after yesterday’s rain, the smells of earth and flowers are quite delightful, are they not?”
Jane Bennet, who had been staring blankly at nothing in particular, jerked slightly and managed a smile in return, “You sound like Mother, Lizzy. She too thinks wet soil entirely delightful.”
“Well, it is very good for growing tulips,” her sister declared practically. “But come, we must speak of the assembly at Meryton tomorrow. What will you wear?”
Jane shrugged, “I have not considered that yet. It hardly matters.”
Elizabeth sighed with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation. She understood Jane’s heartache, but it had been months and months...
“Mr. Bingley will reputedly be there with a party of friends,” she said softly. “Charlotte Lucas tells me that he is a very pleasant and congenial young man.”
Jane bit her lip, “Lizzy, I know you mean well but I truly doubt that I will ever give my heart to another man. I would far rather be single than to pledge my troth and be ...”
“Jilted,” Elizabeth finished, her eyes flashing with indignation. “Jane, Mr. Brisbane was cruel to treat you so, but most gentlemen are more honorable.”
Jane shook her head disconsolately, “I still believe that I was most at fault in that matter, Elizabeth. I should have realized Mr. Brisbane did not love me as much as I loved him.”
“He offered for you, Jane, and Father gave his blessing! By honor, David Brisbane was confined to you and you alone as his bride, but he was a weak-willed soul. When his tutor’s daughter sunk her claws into him while he was at Cambridge, he went along easily enough with her insistence that they marry in haste by common license. ”
“I hope they are happy together,” her sister replied wearily. “Forgive me, Elizabeth, but I find myself very tired and in want of a nap.”
Elizabeth leaned over to kiss her cheek, and then departed quickly for her own bedchamber. Poor Jane had been devastated when the Brisbane heir had jilted her some eighteen months ago, and the eldest Miss Bennet had still not recovered her spirits.
It was only a small source of comfort that the neighborhood of Meryton had sided with the Bennets with regards to the broken engagement, to the point that the Brisbanes, who owned Netherfield, had decamped permanently for London.
Now Netherfield Hall and the associated estate were being leased by the genial Mr. Bingley.
Elizabeth hoped for all their sakes that the man was a good and honorable man.