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Chapter Five

Hertfordshire October 1811 Darcy

“R eally, Bingley, an assembly? I have barely set foot in the house!” Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy cast his friend a mildly irritated look. How very like Charles Bingley to schedule a social event the evening his guest arrived from town.

“You will have six hours to rest before we depart.” Bingley nudged Darcy in the ribs. “Now, let us take tea and then I can give you a tour!”

“Are your sisters in residence?” Darcy liked Bingley’s sisters well enough. The elder, Mrs. Louisa Hurst, had lately married a gentleman of some means. Mr. Reginald Hurst owned an estate in Surrey. They shared a marriage of convenience, and he tolerated the pair when needed—for Bingley's sake.

The younger sister, Miss Caroline Bingley, had at first annoyed Darcy with flattering words and attention. Then, her affections were won by Sir James Blackwell, a decorated military officer and second son of a wealthy country gentleman. Sir James received a knighthood in recognition of his prowess on the battlefield. Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, was acquainted with the gentleman and lauded his bravery.

“Louisa and Hurst will arrive in a few weeks. I believe she wrote that they intend to leave Surrey on the first of November, stopping in London for a day or so along the way. That should put them in Hertfordshire by the fourth.” Bingley led the way down the hall to a large, well-appointed parlor. “Nicholls will bring us tea,” he said, plopping down into an overstuffed chair. He slung one leg over the arm and grinned cheekily. “Caroline and Sir James are in Cheshire until December. He wished to introduce his future bride to his family. Her companion is with them, of course. I understand that he has purchased a house in town and means to purchase an estate in the future.”

“I am very happy for them.” Indeed, he was. Darcy despised fawning and false flattery. Miss Bingley had not been the worst artful woman he had ever encountered, but she certainly had been amongst them. Since becoming engaged to Sir James, however, she had revealed more of her true nature—and to Darcy’s surprise, it was not entirely disagreeable.

Despite being born to trade, Miss Bingley dressed, walked, talked, and acted just like a gently born lady. At first, she had annoyed him with her flattering words and attention, but after meeting Sir James and falling in love, her manner had changed entirely. Where once she had disguised insults to look like compliments, Miss Bingley spoke sincerely, offering friendship and kindness to everyone, regardless of station. Her genuine manner impressed many higher-born ladies seeking honest friendship, opening doors that might otherwise have remained closed. Somewhere along the way, she had grown tired of artifice, disliking the woman she saw in the mirror and resolving to change her ways.

Darcy wondered if Sir James would have fallen in love with the Caroline Bingley that had fawned over him .

“You will dance tonight, will you not?” Bingley swung his leg off the arm of the chair and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “These are my new neighbors, and I want them to think well of me—and my friends.”

“And my behavior will be a reflection upon you. Very well, Bingley, I shall dance. No more than three dances, however, and with ladies of my choosing. I shall not be pushed toward any particular woman.”

“I shall only agree to that stipulation if you promise to dance at least two dances with unmarried ladies.” Bingley folded his arms triumphantly.

Darcy laughed in surprise. “How well you know my habits. Very well, I shall dance two dances with unmarried misses. I shall even agree to dance an additional set with another married woman, bringing my total performances to four.”

“Done.” Bingley extended his hand, and they shook to seal their agreement. “Look, here is Mrs. Nicholls with tea!”

A middle-aged lady with silver gray hair placed a tea tray carefully on the table next to Bingley’s chair. She curtsied and departed, leaving Bingley to pour the tea.

“Cream and sugar, Darcy?” his host asked.

Darcy nodded and accepted the cup Bingley offered. He sipped, savoring the pleasant blend. “The estate appears sound from the outside. Did you tour it in its entirety before signing the lease?”

“I did. Mr. Morris, the agent, said that the owner recently repaired a leak in the roof. There were also a few drainage issues addressed, from what I understand. The park is only four miles around—nothing to Pemberley, but it is a good size for me to test the waters.” Bingley grinned and picked up a little sandwich from the tray and popped it whole into his mouth.

“And the owner has agreed to allow you to learn alongside the steward?” Darcy, too, picked up a sandwich, though he did not eat his in one bite.

“He has. I am allowed to make decisions as long as it will not jeopardize the prosperity of the estate. Your agreement to assist me convinced the owner to grant me the liberty to try my hand at it all.”

Darcy smiled. “I assume you regaled him with tales of your prominent, land-owning friend from the North with five years’ experience managing his own estate?”

“Do not forget that it is more than twice the size of Netherfield. Yes, he was convinced by just that logic.” Bingley stood and placed his empty cup back on the tray. “Are you finished? I would love to show you the house. It is a good thing Caroline will not be my hostess. She would want to redecorate every room.”

“Your sister is a lady of fashion.”

“There are ten bedrooms in the family wing,” Bingley said, leading his friend from the room. “On the opposite side of the staircase is the guest wing, with ten additional rooms. Both sides mirror each other. The third floor holds the nursery, rooms for the governess and nursery maids, and a few additional chambers. Servants reside in the west attic and below stairs. The east attics are for storage.”

Bingley rambled on as they walked. Darcy admired the portrait gallery and peeked into a few guest chambers before Bingley showed him to his own. “There is a sitting room through there,” he said, gesturing to a door on the opposite side of the chamber. “Your valet can stay here or with the servants—it is your choice. Now, I know you wish to refresh yourself, but I simply must show you the ballroom downstairs. I have plans to hold a ball there before Christmas.”

Darcy groaned. “You and your dances, Bingley. Please tell me you have planned other forms of entertainment.”

Bingley laughed. “We shall hunt and ride to your heart’s delight, my friend. I promise I shall only request you dance once a week.”

“What of other social excursions? Surely, the denizens of the area will wish you to attend all their functions. Am I to be paraded alongside you?”

Bingley chuckled. “You have a dismal view of the world, do you not? How can you have so much and still be so displeased with life?”

Darcy sighed. “I feel as though I am always on display. Ever since I inherited, ladies have thrown themselves at my feet—quite literally, I assure you. I detest walking into a room and being sized up for the amount of money in my bank account and the extent of my estate.”

“That would certainly make socializing more tedious.” Bingley frowned. “I shall do my best to keep the matchmaking mamas off your scent.”

“And I shall do my best to be an amiable companion.” In truth, Darcy had only agreed to come to Hertfordshire because his sister had practically begged him to go. Georgiana had experienced a disappointment that summer and had yet to recover her spirits, and now resided with her aunt, Lady Matilda Matlock. Darcy’s aunt assured him that the time away from him would do Georgiana a world of good.

“She thinks you are ashamed of her,” his aunt had confided. “Go with Bingley, Darcy. Keep writing to Georgiana and she will recover her spirits eventually.”

And so Darcy had departed London after bidding his sister a fond farewell. Georgiana had barely looked at him as he said goodbye. Would that I could take all her pain away, he thought. It is my fault. I failed her.

Bingley’s exuberance proved to be a balm to Darcy’s dark mood. By the time they were dressed for the assembly, he felt more inclined to enjoy the evening. Bingley rambled on about the gentlemen he had met and the calls he had returned as the carriage made its way down the drive and onto the main road that led to the little market town of Meryton.

“Sir William Lucas is a jovial fellow. He is the master of ceremonies tonight, or so I have been informed. You will like him. He speaks of St. James with great fondness.”

“I do not attend St. James regularly. Tell me, does he have any daughters?” Ever cynical, Darcy nudged his friend with his foot and raised an eyebrow.

“Two. The elder is Miss Charlotte Lucas. She is seven-and-twenty. His younger daughter is but sixteen—Maria, I believe her name is.” Bingley paused. “Do not give me that look, Darcy. A man is not to be suspect simply because he has daughters to marry off.”

“If you think for an instant that this Sir William does not see you as a potential mate for his offspring—”

“Oh, stop. I intend to enjoy myself fully tonight. If you cannot do the same, I shall send you back to Netherfield in the carriage.”

Darcy drew in a breath. “I am sorry, Bingley. It seems I cannot shake the dark mood that hovers about me like a cloud. I shall do my best not to disappoint you.”

Bingley nodded sharply, then continued describing his neighbors as though he had not just thoroughly chastised his old friend. “The Gouldings have a son and a daughter. Their daughter is not out, and their son is away at school. Then there are the Longs—Mr. and Mrs. Long do not have children, but they do have the care of their nieces. I met them when I returned Mr. Long’s call. Oh—and then there is my closest neighbor, Mr. Thomas Bennet.”

The name sounded familiar, but Darcy could not place it. “Has he an estate?” he asked instead.

“Yes. Longbourn lies south of Meryton, whilst Netherfield is just to the north of the market village. It is a prosperous little estate. I suspect the income is some thirty-five hundred pounds.”

“And he has how many daughters?” Darcy tried to keep his voice level but failed miserably.

Bingley frowned. “Come to think of it, I do not know. Mr. Bennet said only that his son had recently returned from university and was now assisting him with management of the estate.”

Perhaps he has no daughters, Darcy thought. Surely a man with female children would wish his new and very eligible neighbor to know that they exist. Expounding on their charms would be top priority.

“I look forward to meeting your neighbors,” he said aloud, and none too sincerely. “I am sure it will be an enjoyable evening.”