Page 18

CHAPTER 18

Letters

O nce Elizabeth and Darcy left his study, Bennet pulled out several pieces of paper.

He examined his quill to ensure it was ready to write and began composing the first of several letters he would need to write that morning.

The first was to his brother Gardiner.

As a merchant, Gardiner heard things that others may not.

He also had a number of connections, and he could use those connections to find out what he could about both the Earl of Matlock and the viscount who wished Darcy to marry his daughter.

It seemed odd to Bennet that the man was using an intermediary to manipulate—or was it an attempt to compel?

—Darcy into a marriage with his daughter, particularly since the daughter was reported to be young, of a similar age to his daughter Lydia, or perhaps even younger.

Darcy had known little about the girl his uncle wished him to wed, but Gardiner would, hopefully, be able to discover more.

The second was to his old friend James Livesay.

Since that fateful visit five years ago, the two had kept up a steady correspondence, with Bennet far more regular in his writing than he had been before.

Although Bennet had kept up his relationship with the son of his late friend George Darcy, writing to the son had not been the same as writing to his father.

However, his relationship with Livesay had not changed.

Instead, Livesay had become, for a time, more of a mentor while Bennet had attempted to make changes.

After George Darcy had become ill, Livesay had been the one to sometimes cajole, sometimes threaten Bennet to “remove his head from his arse” as Livesay had once put it during a visit to Longbourn a few months after the first one.

In fact, Livesay had visited at least annually since then, although he had come more than that during the first year.

It had been Livesay who had sent one of his own under stewards to assist at Longbourn.

At first, the steward had written to Livesay frequently, updating him on what was going on at Longbourn, and when Bennet had begun, once again, to rely too heavily on his second daughter to manage things, Livesay had written a scathing letter to his friend.

That had been a needed catalyst to force Bennet to again take hold of the reigns of the estate.

While Elizabeth had been fairly competent, she was young and did not have the same knowledge and experience as the trained steward or of Bennet himself.

Now, Bennet contemplated what to write to Livesay.

Since the two men enjoyed a close friendship, he did not hesitate to tell Livesay all he could safely write in a letter.

Some was in a sort of code that only the two men would understand, but, ultimately, the letter was a plea asking Livesay to come as soon as he was able.

The harvest should be done on his estate, and he had two sons to oversee any necessary business.

Both Livesay and Darcy had married several years before Bennet himself had done so, and so their sons were older than Bennet’s children.

Livesay’s elder son was likely near of an age to Fitzwilliam Darcy, and he had one other who was probably a few years younger.

For a moment, Bennet attempted to remember the ages of the daughters, and he added a note to the letter encouraging Livesay to bring his family with him.

Once these letters were finished, Bennet picked up the letter he had received a few days before from his cousin Collins.

While he had considered not responding to it at all, especially given how the man had seemingly invited himself to Longbourn, Bennet decided that it was best he write to delay the man’s visit.

Since he was inviting so many others to his house, there would not be room at Longbourn for Mr. Collins.

Reluctantly, he wrote a third letter, denying the man’s request to visit, indicating that the house would be full at that time.

Instead, he suggested that Collins visit the following spring.

Bennet hoped that perhaps two of his daughters might be engaged or wed by then.

Mary might like to marry a clergyman although Bennet had not been impressed by the man’s letter and thought it unlikely.

Since he had taken an interest in the management of his estate, he had ensured his wife and children would be well cared for upon his death, even if none of his daughters were wed when that occurred.

Of course, if the two married as he was inclined to hope, the steps he had taken mattered far less than they had a few months before.

Once the letters were sitting on the silver salver waiting to be posted, Bennet stood and went in search of his wife.

While he had not intended to speak of his cousin’s visit, Livesay’s visit was another matter entirely.

Although nothing was yet decided, he still felt it was for the best that he inform his wife he had invited Livesay and his family to visit so she could prepare.

The following afternoon, Darcy and Bingley called at Longbourn.

They were joined by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, the former of whom arrived with an air of reluctant duty rather than genuine courtesy.

Mrs. Hurst appeared more interested and attempted to be pleasant, but the presence of Miss Bingley made any private conversation between Elizabeth and Darcy difficult.

The following day, the Bennet ladies returned the call at Netherfield.

It was painfully obvious, upon the announcement of their visit, that the hostess was displeased by their company.

Miss Bingley received them in the drawing room with forced politeness and offered no refreshments beyond a single tepid pot of tea, placed on a table and subsequently ignored.

She sat upright, her spine straight and her smile tight with disdain as she began to ask a series of thinly veiled, rude questions that were clearly intended to highlight the social divide.

Mrs. Bennet, unusually restrained, appeared to recognise the impropriety.

After years of Mrs. Graham’s patient instruction, she now understood that certain topics were best avoided with new acquaintances.

Her answers, therefore, were notably brief.

“Have you and your daughters never been to London for the Season?” Miss Bingley asked, her tone edged with affected surprise.

“I am astonished we have not made your acquaintance there before—especially given your family’s supposed connection to the Darcys.” Her voice dripped with disdain, and the very notion of a link between this family and the Darcys made her grit her teeth.

Elizabeth, seated beside Jane, exchanged a glance with her sister.

She could feel Jane tense ever so slightly at this, for even Jane had recognised that Caroline Bingley was not quite as sincere as she might like.

Mrs. Bennet lifted her chin.

“No, we have not gone to town for the Season,” she said evenly.

“My brother resides there, but we prefer to remain in the country.”

“How…charming,” Miss Bingley replied, a thin smile on her lips.

She turned her attention to Elizabeth, eyes narrowing just slightly.

“And you, Miss Elizabeth? Have you never wished for the advantages of a London education? Or exposure to a more refined society? ”

“I cannot say that I have,” Elizabeth replied, folding her hands in her lap, gripping them tightly as she attempted to hold her tongue.

“The society I find in the country suits me quite well without needing to immerse myself in the falseness of those who believe themselves superior to others. My education has been sufficient and quite the equal of any other gentlewoman.”

Mrs. Hurst gave a soft snort of laughter, quickly disguised as a cough.

She knew her sister did not like the Bennet family, yet she could not help but be impressed by the family’s willingness to allow her sister to insult them without comment.

Miss Elizabeth’s barbs were sharp, yet subtle, and often flew straight over her sister’s head.

Miss Bingley continued, undeterred by Elizabeth’s wit, “Yet you seem to have made quite an impression on Mr. Darcy. I understand he has been a regular visitor at Longbourn along with my brother. He mentioned that they had dinner there one evening this summer.”

Elizabeth tilted her head slightly.

“My father enjoys Mr. Darcy’s company. He was friends with Mr. Darcy’s father at Cambridge. After the elder Mr. Darcy’s death, his son maintained the correspondence.”

“Indeed?” Miss Bingley’s eyes gleamed.

“Your father attended Cambridge?”

“Yes, Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth retorted.

“He was even presented at court as befits a gentleman upon completion of his university studies, not that he finds the society in town to his liking. However, he has kept up an acquaintance with a number of friends from university, and we have had the opportunity to meet several when they have visited.”

Miss Bingley furrowed her brows, unaware of additional friendships.

She wondered who else the Bennet family might know and began to wonder if their connections were better than reported.

However, she was not deterred and sought to find another mark against the Bennet family.

“Did you not mention you have a brother who lives in London, Mrs. Bennet?” Miss Bingley asked again.

“Where does he live?”

“On Gracechurch Street,” Mrs. Bennet replied, keeping her answers short.

“I am unfamiliar with that street,” Miss Bingley replied.

“Is that near Mayfair?”

“It is not,” Mrs. Bennet said.

“Where is it?” Miss Bingley snapped, but her question was covered by her sister’s.

“Mrs. Bennet, I understand from the housekeeper that your family looks after the tenants here at Netherfield,” Mrs. Hurst interjected, attempting to shift the topic from the inquisition her sister intended.

“My husband’s family owns an estate that he will one day inherit. Would you answer a few questions I have about how you handle the needs of the tenants? In fact, I would like to accompany you on a visit or two, if I might.”

Mrs. Bennet flushed a little at this question.

“My daughters do most of the visiting these days,” she admitted, unwilling to say that tenant visits were something she had never bothered to learn about.

“Lizzy handles most of the visits here at Netherfield, and she is assisted by Jane and Mary. Catherine focuses more of her time on household matters since she is unable to do much that requires her to be out of doors; her health has never been good, and she cannot walk or ride so long as is required.”

“Your daughters visit tenants?” Miss Bingley asked, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

“How can your husband allow them to do such a distasteful task? Is that not the responsibility of the steward of an estate?”

“It is not,” came a deep voice, and Miss Bingley coloured brightly at hearing Darcy speak.

Both he and her brother entered the room then, bowing and greeting the three ladies .

“Welcome to Netherfield, Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley said, nearly bouncing in his excitement.

“A maid mentioned in passing that you arrived some time ago; we would have joined you sooner had we known.”

Miss Bingley grimaced; she had explicitly informed the housekeeper that her brother was not to be informed of these callers.

She would investigate that matter later.

“Did you not order tea, Caroline?” Bingley said next, calling more attention to her less than gracious behaviour.

“They brought us cold tea,” she complained, turning to ring the bell.

“I will ask them to bring fresh.” However, even as she did this, she turned towards her guests.

“Although I suppose you will be going soon,” she said.

“You have already been here for a quarter hour.”

“Caroline,” Bingley reprimanded, speaking at the same time as his sister.

“Caroline,” Mrs. Hurst cried sharply.

“What?” Miss Bingley asked, turning to look at her brother and sister.

“I think you must be ill,” Mrs. Hurst said, rising to her feet.

“Come with me, and I will escort you to your room where you can rest for a time. Surely your behaviour just now is indicative of a headache or some other ailment.”

She turned towards their guests.

“Forgive me, Mrs. Bennet. I will be just a moment, and I will ask the housekeeper to be sure there is hot tea when I return. Brother, I think I will need to speak to you later.”

Bingley nodded, surprised by this, but grateful, nonetheless.

He turned to his guests.

“Forgive my sister, Mrs. Bennet,” he said.

“She can be rather…unpleasant when she feels a megrim coming on. It is likely it will cause her to keep to her bed for several days.”

“It is of no matter, Mr. Bingley,” Mrs. Bennet said graciously .

Beside her, Jane and Elizabeth shared a look.

While Jane no longer viewed the entire world as ideal, she had rarely encountered someone as unpleasant as Miss Bingley and struggled to understand what would have caused a virtual stranger to act in this manner.

“Mr. Bingley,” she said, “please express our sympathies to your sister when she feels better. A megrim can be unpleasant to experience, and I do not envy her the pain she is suffering.”

Darcy stifled a chuckle at this undeserved kindness.

Elizabeth observed this and merely raised a brow at him.

Although the two had not spoken of Miss Bingley beyond that first dance at the assembly, Elizabeth recognised the symptoms of jealousy that Miss Bingley exhibited.

While she knew Mr. Darcy admired her, she still doubted it would matter very much, for surely, he would seek a wife with wealth and connections far beyond her own.

She could admit that she returned the admiration, but she was doing what she could to keep it contained.

By the time Mrs. Hurst returned about ten minutes later, a fresh pot of tea had been delivered.

Mrs. Bennet did attempt to withdraw, refusing the beverage given how long their visit had already lasted, but both Mr. Bingley and Mrs. Hurst encouraged them to remain a bit longer.

With a minimal amount of persuading, she relented, and the six enjoyed a pleasant half an hour until Mrs. Bennet insisted that it was truly necessary they depart.

Elizabeth arranged with Mrs. Hurst to call the following day to take her around to a few tenants.

It would remain Longbourn’s responsibility, but Mrs. Hurst was grateful for the opportunity to learn from Elizabeth’s example.