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Chapter Fifteen

Elizabeth was just buttering her second piece of toast when the distinctive sound of carriage wheels on gravel drew her attention to the window of Netherfield’s breakfast room.

An elegant but modest travelling chaise had pulled up before the entrance, and she nearly dropped her knife in surprise when Colonel Fitzwilliam descended from it.

She glanced quickly at Darcy, whose raised eyebrow confirmed that this arrival was as unexpected to him as it was to her.

“Is that Colonel Fitzwilliam?” Bingley asked, rising from his chair to peer out the window. “What an unexpected pleasure! I had no notion he was in this part of the country.”

“Nor had I,” Darcy replied, exchanging a meaningful look with Elizabeth. “Though I am not entirely surprised. My cousin mentioned some business in the south when we last spoke.”

“I shall go welcome him directly,” Bingley declared, already moving toward the door with his customary enthusiasm.

No sooner had Bingley left the room than Caroline, who had been half-heartedly picking at a plate of fruit, suddenly straightened in her chair. “Colonel Fitzwilliam? The Earl of Matlock’s younger son, is he not? I had not realised he was expected.”

“He wasn’t,” Darcy stated simply. “But my cousin often travels on regimental business. Perhaps some matter brought him to this neighbourhood.”

“How fortunate for us,” Caroline observed, patting her already immaculate hair. “Such distinguished company can only enhance our little party.”

Before Caroline could probe further, the door opened to admit Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

The colonel looked just as he always did, immaculate in his uniform with his military bearing lending him a natural dignity that complemented his open, good-humoured countenance.

He bowed to the assembled company, smiling broadly.

“Mrs. Darcy, what a delight to see you again,” he greeted Elizabeth warmly. “Darcy, Miss Bingley, please forgive my intrusion on your breakfast.”

“Nonsense, Colonel,” Bingley insisted. “You are most welcome at any hour. But you must be famished after your journey. Do sit down and join us.”

“You are too kind,” the colonel replied, taking the seat that Bingley indicated. “I hope my arrival has not thrown your household into confusion.”

“Not at all,” Elizabeth assured him. “Though we had no notion you were in this part of the country. What brings you to Hertfordshire, Colonel?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam accepted a cup of coffee from the footman before replying.

“I had some leave accrued, and when I learned you and Darcy were visiting Netherfield, I thought it an excellent opportunity to spend some time with you, and to renew my acquaintances with the Bingleys, of course.” He bowed his head politely to Caroline Bingley.

“And most fortuitous timing,” Caroline interjected, leaning forward with a smile that Elizabeth recognised as her attempt at coquetry. “We were just planning a picnic on the grounds tomorrow, weather permitting. You must join us, Colonel.”

“I should be honoured, Miss Bingley,” he replied politely. “Mrs. Darcy, I trust your family is well? Your parents and sisters?”

“Very well, thank you,” Elizabeth responded, her suspicions growing apace that the colonel was not being entirely honest about his motives for arriving so unexpectedly. “Mr. Darcy and I visited Longbourn yesterday and found everyone in good health and spirits.”

“Excellent news,” the colonel said, returning her smile with evident pleasure.

Darcy was watching his cousin, his expression thoughtful. His gaze slid to Elizabeth’s, an odd smile touching his lips, and she recalled with clarity their conversation about the colonel’s interest in Jane. Had Colonel Fitzwilliam come as a rival to Bingley?

Bingley himself seemed entirely oblivious to the undercurrents flowing around his breakfast table. “We must all ride over to Longbourn later this morning,” he declared cheerfully. “The colonel must be properly introduced to the neighbourhood, and the Bennets are the very best place to start.”

“Charles, really,” Caroline protested. “The colonel has only just arrived. Surely he would prefer to rest before being dragged about the countryside on social calls.”

“On the contrary, Miss Bingley,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied smoothly.

“I find myself quite invigorated this morning. A visit to Longbourn sounds most agreeable, if Mrs. Darcy thinks her family would not object to such an unexpected addition to their callers? Though I have met them before, of course, Bingley; at my cousin’s wedding to Mrs. Darcy. ”

“They would be delighted, I am sure,” Elizabeth assured him. “My father always enjoys intelligent conversation, and my mother will be pleased to welcome you again.”

Caroline’s lips thinned almost imperceptibly at this, and Elizabeth suppressed a smile at her evident displeasure. The remainder of breakfast passed with animated conversation, Caroline doing her best to monopolise Colonel Fitzwilliam’s attention with limited success.

As they rose from the table to prepare for their visit to Longbourn, Caroline manoeuvred herself to intercept Colonel Fitzwilliam at the door. “Colonel, you must allow me to show you the improvements to the gardens. Charles has spared no expense on the new rose beds.”

“Most kind of you, Miss Bingley,” he replied with impeccable courtesy, but Elizabeth could see his lack of interest. Military men had little care for flower gardens, she suspected; Miss Bingley had chosen her topic ill.

The garden party formed quickly, with Bingley insisting on leading the way to show off his new plantings, Mrs. Hurst taking his arm while her husband abandoned them, presumably for his usual post-breakfast nap.

Caroline positioned herself firmly at Colonel Fitzwilliam’s side as they stepped out onto the terrace, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy to follow with Georgiana.

Their circuit of the gardens brought them eventually to a small decorative pavilion overlooking a lily pond. Caroline, who had been growing increasingly frustrated by the colonel’s merely polite attentions, suddenly gave a small cry.

“Oh! I believe I have turned my ankle on this uneven path,” she declared, clutching at a nearby stone bench for support. “How clumsy of me.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam, ever the gentleman, stepped forward immediately. “Allow me to assist you, Miss Bingley.”

“You are too kind, Colonel,” Caroline simpered, leaning heavily on his offered arm. “Perhaps you might help me to the pavilion where I could rest for a moment?”

As the colonel guided her carefully across the lawn, Elizabeth noticed that Caroline’s supposed limp appeared to be remarkably selective in its severity, becoming virtually undetectable whenever the colonel’s attention was elsewhere.

“A most convenient injury,” Darcy observed dryly, having evidently made the same assessment.

“Indeed,” Elizabeth agreed. “One that seems to require very specific support.”

Georgiana said nothing, but a slight smile played about her lips, suggesting she too was not deceived by Caroline’s performance.

The rest of the party followed to the pavilion, where Caroline established herself on a bench with an air of delicate suffering, positioning the Colonel beside her with a firm grip on his arm that allowed no graceful escape.

“I fear I shall not be able to continue our walk,” she announced with a martyred sigh.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam has been most gallant in coming to my aid.”

“Perhaps we should return to the house,” Bingley suggested, concerned for his sister. “If your ankle is truly injured, Caroline, you should not exert yourself further.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of spoiling everyone’s pleasure,” Caroline protested. “The colonel and I shall remain here to... admire the view, while the rest of you continue your tour of the gardens.”

Elizabeth caught Georgiana’s eye and saw a flicker of genuine amusement there.

“Perhaps my dear cousin Georgiana might remain as well,” the colonel suggested smoothly. “Her company would be most welcome, and three is often more comfortable than two for conversation.”

Caroline’s expression soured visibly at this proposal. “I would not wish to tire Miss Darcy with my invalid complaints. She would surely prefer to continue the walk with the others.”

“Not at all,” Georgiana replied with gentle firmness. “I should be happy to remain. The pavilion offers a lovely prospect of the autumn foliage, and I have so little opportunity to spend time with my cousin, I should welcome every moment.”

Thus outmanoeuvred, Caroline had no choice but to accept Georgiana’s company – and chaperonage – or reveal the artifice of her injury. She chose the former, though with such ill grace that Elizabeth had to bite her lip to suppress a laugh.

“How remarkably entertaining,” Elizabeth observed quietly to Darcy as they moved away with Bingley to continue their circuit of the gardens. “I had not expected our visit to Netherfield to provide such diversions.”

“My cousin is rarely a source of dullness,” Darcy replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "And far too clever a strategist to be entrapped by Miss Bingley, never fear."

Their conversation was eventually interrupted by Bingley himself, who had circled back to join them. “I say, should we not return to check on Caroline? Her ankle might be worse than we thought.”

“I am sure Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana are providing excellent care,” Elizabeth assured him. “But yes, perhaps we should complete our circuit and rejoin them.”

When they returned to the pavilion some ten minutes later, they found Caroline looking distinctly disgruntled, while Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared to be engaged in animated conversation about music.

“Caroline, how is your ankle?” Bingley inquired solicitously.

“Much improved, thank you,” she replied tersely. “I believe I can manage to walk back to the house now.”