Page 4 of Mission to Meryton (Pride and Prejudice Variation #25)

Ministry of War

Paris, France

Monsieur Chauvelin lifted his eyes from the paper in his hands and glared menacingly at the French agent who stood in front of his massive desk, “You are certain that you have chosen a good man for this task?”

“Yes, sir,” the other man replied confidently. “He is completely loyal to the Emperor and France, but his mother was an Englishwoman and he speaks the Enemy’s language perfectly. He will fulfill the objectives set before him, I promise you.”

Chauvelin allowed a wintry smile to fill his rather wrinkled face, “I hope so, for your sake. The Emperor is not as forgiving as I am, and this is a vital mission for the future of France.”

“Yes, sir. We will not fail you.”

/

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” the Netherfield butler announced.

The drawing room was fuller than Elizabeth had anticipated; along with Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, and Mr. Hurst, were two other women, one a youthful blonde with blue eyes, the other a plain, dark haired woman of some five and thirty years.

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” Caroline Bingley said as the gentlemen rose to their feet. “How pleasant to see you this morning!”

“Thank you,” Jane replied, curtsying to the others. “It is delightful to see you as well.”

Darcy glanced with uncertainty towards his sister, who was gazing at him piteously.

Georgiana was terribly shy and found it difficult to meet new people; at Pemberley, the butler knew to allow time for her to flee if someone arrived unexpectedly.

On the other hand, Georgiana needed to learn to speak in company, and surely it was sensible to practice here in Hertfordshire where any mistakes were of little importance.

With his mind made up, Darcy gestured to his sister, “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, may I please introduce you to my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy, and her companion, Mrs. Younge?”

“Miss Darcy, Mrs. Younge,” Jane and Elizabeth chorused.

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” Georgiana whispered nervously, ducking her head shyly.

“Please do sit down,” Miss Bingley suggested, gesturing regally from her seat next to Mr. Darcy.

Jane took a seat near Mr. Bingley, and Elizabeth found herself across from Mrs. Younge, who was herself next to Miss Darcy.

The girl was leaning slightly toward her companion, as if for protection, which Elizabeth found oddly endearing.

Surely she and Jane were not so terrifying?

“Mrs. Younge, Miss Darcy, is this your first sojourn in Hertfordshire?”

“Yes, Miss Elizabeth. The Darcys hail from Derbyshire and I grew up in Devonshire.”

“Ah, have you been to the sea then, Mrs. Younge?”

“I have,” Mrs. Younge confirmed. “My husband and I lived in Exeter before his death, and we would occasionally travel to the seashore for a few days.”

“I have never been on a trip to the sea,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “What is it like?”

“Last summer, we ... Ramsgate,” muttered Miss Darcy.

Elizabeth leaned forward a little and fought to make sense of the girl’s mumbling, “You went to Ramsgate? In Kent?”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Younge confirmed with a smile at her charge, “we enjoyed it tremendously. It is quite amazing to look upon the azure waves as far as the eye can see ...”

Mr. Darcy, who had found himself sucked into conversation with Miss Bingley, found himself grateful to both Mrs. Younge and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Georgiana had managed to say a few words, and the two other ladies were kindly carrying the burden of conversation while signaling that Georgiana was welcome to join in.

That was far different than many a haughty London lady, who would ask direct questions of his nervous young sister.

Yes, perhaps Hertfordshire was the perfect place for Georgiana to spread her conversational wings in company.

/

“What did you think of Miss Darcy?” Jane asked curiously as the carriage jolted into motion. The Bennet ladies had stayed exactly half an hour before departing and were now on their way back to Longbourn.

“She is very shy,” Elizabeth declared in surprise. “Given how imperious and proud her brother is, that is unexpected, but siblings vary tremendously in their characters.”

“Indeed they do.”

“How was your conversation with Mr. Bingley, Jane?”

“It was most enjoyable,” Jane admitted. “He likes to play spillikins.”

“Does he indeed? You should challenge him to a game, my dear. I am quite certain you are the best player in all of England.”

Jane laughed and shook her head, “I am quite certain I am not, but I do enjoy it, for all that it is merely a children’s game.”

“It takes great skill,” Elizabeth asserted, “as I can attest to since I am terrible at it! In any case, you enjoy it.”

“I do,” Jane agreed and then, a moment later, added hesitantly, “Mr. Brisbane was very disdainful of spillikins. He used to say that only a child would play a game with sticks.”

Elizabeth jerked in astonishment, “What? You never told me that!”

“No,” Jane admitted. “I suppose I merely assumed his perspective was a common one among learned gentlemen.”

Her younger sister shook her head in disgust. “It is an entirely ridiculous viewpoint. Surely we are permitted to have a variety of interests and hobbies? Why should spillikins be worse than chess, or hunting, or shooting, or all the other ways that gentlemen entertain themselves?”

“I do not know,” Jane concurred with a smile. “In any case, it was pleasing to converse with a gentleman who cheerfully acknowledges his love for spillikins and pantomime, and his dislike of Shakespeare’s tragedies.”

“It sounds agreeable indeed. What did you think of his sisters?”

“They seemed quite friendly. I daresay Mama is right, that they are happy to have some new friends in the neighborhood.”

Elizabeth nodded and chose not to answer.

She thought that the sisters were more like Mr. Darcy than their brother; she had seen the disdainful glances at the Bennet ladies’ simple dresses, and Miss Bingley had made more than one snide comment about ‘country life’.

But Mrs. Younge was a good conversationalist and Miss Darcy seemed sweet under her shyness.

Meryton was a small town, and there were only four and twenty families amongst the gentry.

It was rare for newcomers to enter their midst, and Elizabeth was well pleased to interact with such a disparate group of gentlemen and ladies.

/

Jane and Elizabeth entered the west parlor of Longbourn to find Lydia sitting disconsolately on a chair, her face red and her eyes slightly weepy.

“What is wrong?” Jane asked in concern, laying aside her bonnet.

“I broke a nail through my gardening gloves,” the girl responded indignantly. “It will take weeks for my thumbnail to grow to the proper length again.”

Elizabeth bit her lip in exasperation but refrained from speaking. Jane was always best in dealing with Lydia when their youngest, spoiled sister was in a fretful mood.

“My dear,” Jane said gently, sitting down beside Lydia and putting an arm around her shoulders, “that is quite disappointing, but that is why we have gloves for when we go out in company, is it not? I believe I have a lovely pair in green which you may use.”

“Oh, thank you!” Lydia exclaimed, leaping to her feet. “May I get them now?”

“Of course. Where are Mama and the other girls?” her eldest sister inquired.

“They are still out in the garden. I simply do not understand how anyone could actually enjoy grubbing about in the soil!”

“It is a good thing that some members of our family enjoy working with the tulips, since it enables us to buy many of the things which bring you pleasure,” Elizabeth pointed out. “I will see you both at dinner.”

Jane and Lydia made their way toward the stairway and Elizabeth walked quickly out the back door of Longbourn and down a side path to the stables, which she skirted to enter the side door of the conservatory.

When young Miss Frances Gardiner had married Mr. James Bennet of Longbourn some four and twenty years earlier, she had brought not only a five thousand pound dowry, but the combined knowledge of generations of women in her family regarding the successful breeding of the famous broken tulips which originated in Holland.

Mr. Bennet was not a wise business man, and in his initial infatuation with his pretty young wife, he willingly put up a large sum of money to erect a modern conservatory.

Fortunately for the long term solvency of Longbourn, the tulips were showing a profit by the time Jane was three years old, and now the greenhouse, artfully concealed behind the stables, held the promise of yet more horticultural triumphs.

Elizabeth strolled through the greenhouse, the fragrance of moist soil tingling in her nostrils. Her mother and sisters were not within, so she passed through the back door and into the walled garden where her mother, Mary, and Kitty were bending over to inspect one of the tulip beds.

Elizabeth gazed around the garden with satisfaction.

The stone walls which hid the garden from passersby had been carefully designed to look dilapidated and unkempt, and a few rocks were even artistically displayed on the ground outside as if they had fallen from the wall.

So far, the general population of Meryton was unaware that the Bennet ladies of Longbourn were growing tulips and selling them, and Elizabeth, while she decried the necessity, was thankful.

It was true that as the daughters of a gentleman, she and her sisters were of sufficient social standing to attract the attention of many a man, especially with their augmented dowries through the sale of the tulips.

Of course, if a man actually offered, he would need to be told about the family business, but it would be harmful for the Bennet women, already connected to trade through their mother, to be known as flower sellers to society at large.

“Lizzy!” Mary called out, straightening up and waving a soiled glove at her elder sister. “How was your visit to Netherfield?”

“It was interesting,” Elizabeth replied cheerfully to her next younger sister.

Mary was the only Bennet daughter to not share their mother’s handsome features, which was somewhat of a trial to the girl.

Fortunately, Mary had inherited her mother’s remarkable gifting with breeding tulips, which made her Mrs. Bennet’s favorite daughter.

Elizabeth could only be grateful; in a culture where beauty was considered paramount for a woman, Mary knew herself to be accomplished in a most unusual way.

“Interesting?” Mrs. Bennet asked absently. “Kitty, my dear, please move that cold frame a few feet farther from ... yes, like that. Mary says the weather is warming and we do not wish for those plants to overheat.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Interesting, Lizzy?” her mother repeated, this time with more focus. “In what way?”

“We met Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy’s younger sister, and her companion, a Mrs. Younge.”

“What is Miss Darcy like?” Kitty inquired with a wrinkle of her nose. “I suppose she is haughty and proud like Mr. Darcy?”

“Not at all. She is very young, probably Lydia’s age, and extremely shy. No, the Darcys are not much alike.”

“And what of Mr. Bingley?” Mrs. Bennet inquired. “Does he continue to please you with his character?”

“I like him, certainly,” Elizabeth replied, “but Jane likes him more. Mr. Bingley and Jane seem to have much in common.”

Mrs. Bennet tilted her head thoughtfully.

“Well then, my dear, we must invite him and his party to dinner at Longbourn soon. It would be a great blessing if the young man helped Jane get over her disappointment with the Brisbane boy. Now come, we are off to the Philips’ house in three hours for cards and supper, and need time to freshen up. ”