Page 8

CHAPTER 8

Reintroductions

A round three in the afternoon, Mrs. Hill announced the arrival of the gentlemen callers and showed them into Bennet’s study.

Rising to greet his guests, he was surprised to see his second daughter lingering in the hallway—and even more so when she winked at him.

Uncertain of her meaning, he gave a slight nod in return before shifting his attention to the gentlemen.

“I am pleased to see you again so soon, Mr. Darcy—and you as well, Mr. Bingley,” he said, then turned to the third man.

“You must be Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, if I am not mistaken? Shall you introduce us now, Darcy?” Bennet smirked at the men.

His lips tilting up in a small smile, Darcy stepped forward to make the proper introduction, after which the four men took their seats and began to converse as Bennet handed them each a glass of brandy.

“By chance,” Bennet began, his thoughts still occupied with Elizabeth’s curious gesture, “did you happen to encounter my daughters while in Meryton earlier today?”

To his surprise, both Darcy and the colonel smiled.

“Indeed, we did,” Darcy replied, the faintest trace of amusement in his expression.

“My cousin and I accompanied Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth to the bookshop, while the younger ladies and their companion visited other establishments. Bingley was at the solicitor’s office, finalising the lease, and he did not have the same opportunity.”

Bingley, for his part, had been rather disappointed to have missed them—especially after once again hearing from Mr. Phillips, whom he now knew to be the young ladies’ uncle, about the beauty of the eldest Miss Bennet.

During their luncheon at the village inn, the colonel had made several complimentary remarks regarding the charm of all the Bennet sisters.

While he had offered no hint of particular interest in any one of them, his comments had only served to deepen Bingley’s own curiosity.

However, none of this showed on his face during this conversation.

Leaning back in his chair, Bennet steepled his fingers as he regarded his guests with mild curiosity.

“Indeed? And was it a pleasant encounter? I trust my daughters conducted themselves with some degree of decorum?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam let out a quiet chuckle.

“They were all quite charming, sir—particularly Miss Elizabeth. She kept my cousin and me well engaged with her observations, and her wit was not lost on either of us. Darcy’s sister will be joining our party at Netherfield, and I am certain she will enjoy the company of all your daughters.”

Bennet harrumphed at that.

“Then I am glad that Lydia is still at school, for you would not wish to have your sister exposed to her influence. Your sister is near my Catherine in age, is she not?”

Darcy nodded, acknowledging that this was true.

Idly, Darcy recalled that Elizabeth had shared only a little about herself, and what he knew of her came from letters written directly by her father.

“Yes, my sister is fifteen,” Darcy replied.

“As you know, my cousin shares guardianship with me, and we have decided that she would do well in coming to know your daughters. She has much in common with all of them, I believe, and she will enjoy spending some time with them.”

“Aye,” Bingley interjected with a slight chuckle, “particularly since my sisters are older than she is and far more interested in tittle-tattle and shopping than anything else. I fear they will not find much to please them in Meryton, though they are quite delighted to host Mr. Darcy and his family.”

Bennet shot the younger man a sharp look, recalling what he knew of him.

From Darcy, he understood that Bingley’s family had made its fortune in trade.

Although Bingley was no longer directly involved in the business, his wealth still stemmed from it.

Without an estate of his own, he was not technically a gentleman although he was clearly striving to become one.

Leasing Netherfield was his first step towards establishing himself, and Bennet wondered whether the attempt would succeed.

Interesting, Bennet mused, watching as the young man squirmed slightly under his scrutiny.

After a pause, Bennet turned back to Darcy.

“Will other members of your family be joining you as well?” he asked, still uncertain what to make of Bingley.

The man appeared young—not only in years but also in maturity.

“My cousin, along with his mother and my sister, will join us midway through October. Richard is obligated to remain in town for an additional fortnight after we depart, and his mother chose to wait until he could accompany them to join us,” Darcy replied.

“And you will arrive just after Michaelmas?” Bennet asked.

“Or was it before?”

“Technically, my lease begins at Michaelmas,” Bingley answered.

“However, Mr. Philips has given me leave to arrive a few days before. I met with him earlier today, and we discussed hiring a staff as needed for the estate and ensuring that all is in readiness for me to arrive on the Wednesday before Michaelmas. Once I am assured that all is in order, I will return to London on Friday or Saturday, and then my sisters will accompany me on that Monday. Darcy will arrive on Tuesday, is that not what you said?”

Darcy chose not to reply and merely nodded at his friend.

“That is good timing, sir,” Bennet said, “although perhaps not for you, Colonel. The full moon will be on the second of October, the day after you arrive, Darcy, and Meryton’s quarterly assembly will be held that evening. Our festivities will begin earlier than you are used to in London, I suppose, since dancing will begin promptly at half past six.”

Bingley laughed.

“That is extremely early,” he replied.

“My sisters will no doubt scoff at such a notion.”

The colonel snorted, earning him a scowl from his cousin.

However, Darcy felt it necessary to educate his friend about the differences between life in the country and that in town, something he would need to learn during his stay here.

“The distances one has to travel within the city limits of London are significantly less than in a country village such as this one,” Darcy replied.

“Not to mention, the streets in London are considerably better lit. In the country, one must rely more heavily on lanterns and the moonlight for travelling to and from such events. I daresay the early hour is meant to make the most of the lingering sunlight before it sets fully, and the event is scheduled on the night of the full moon to make travelling home easier for the families who live further afield. We do the same in Lambton and around Pemberley—remind your sisters of this fact, for I believe they had the same complaint during their one visit to my estate.”

“Indeed,” Bennet replied.

“You and your sisters will have to become accustomed to the idea of country hours while you are in residence here. We tend to rise much earlier than our counterparts who live in town and return home much sooner. Yes, there is the odd occasion that lasts until dawn, but those are few and far between. ”

“I will do as you suggest, Darcy, and inform my sisters of how things are done differently in the country,” Bingley replied with a laugh.

“But you know as well as I do that it will make little difference.”

“Indeed,” Darcy replied coldly, realising that both Bingley and his sisters would find living in the country difficult.

He wondered, not for the first time, if his friend was really suited for living the life of a landed gentleman.

“I am sorry I will miss the assembly, mainly because I would enjoy seeing how my cousin acts at one,” Fitzwilliam interjected with a tease.

Then he turned the conversation to a subject that was of interest to him.

“Do you know anything about this militia regiment that is slated to arrive in Hertfordshire this autumn?”

“Yes, both my brother Philips, the solicitor, and Sir William Lucas have mentioned their coming to me,” Bennet said, a frown forming on his face.

“At least my daughters are used to being accompanied whenever they leave the house, even my Lizzy, much as she still dislikes it. With so many strangers around, I worry for my daughters’ safety even more.”

“It is good of you to protect your daughters in this way,” Fitzwilliam replied.

“Many a girl has fallen victim to an unscrupulous man in regimentals. A wise man would be on guard, much as I hate to admit it.”

Bennet looked thoughtful for a moment and merely nodded at the colonel’s words.

After a time, he seemed to shake off whatever thought had overtaken him, and he turned the conversation yet again.

“Come, enough of this. My wife and daughters are no doubt anticipating your arrival. Darcy, you have stolen my thunder by introducing the colonel to them, but I will still have the pleasure of introducing young Bingley here to my family. My wife is most pleased that you have come and that she will have met you before nearly all of our neighbours.”

All three gentlemen chuckled at this, and they rose and followed their host from the room.

They found Mrs. Bennet and her daughters seated in a parlour that overlooked the front entrance.

At the gentlemen’s arrival, the ladies rose, and Bennet stepped forward to perform the necessary introductions.

“My dear, surely you recall Mr. Darcy though it has been many years since his last visit,” he said, pausing as his wife offered a murmured greeting.

Turning to the others, he continued, “Gentlemen, allow me to present my wife, Mrs. Bennet, and our daughters—Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Mary Bennet, and Miss Catherine Bennet.” Each young lady curtsied politely as her name was spoken.

He then addressed his wife.

“Mrs. Bennet, daughters, this is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy’s cousin, and beside him is Mr. Charles Bingley, our new neighbour. They are to remain with us for the evening before returning to London on the morrow. Mr. Bingley will take possession of Netherfield at Michaelmas.”

With the introductions complete, everyone was encouraged to take their seats.

Mr. Darcy gravitated towards Elizabeth, who was seated alone on a small settee.

Meanwhile, both Mr. Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam made their way to the eldest Miss Bennet.

The colonel, having been a step ahead and already acquainted with her, reached her first and claimed the spot beside her on her settee.

Mr. Bingley, undeterred, settled into an armchair nearby.

Bennet rubbed his chin, only half-listening now to Jane’s gentle tones as she addressed Mr. Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

The colonel, ever gallant and good-humoured, appeared to be enjoying himself thoroughly; yet it was Bingley who leant forward with the greater interest, hanging on Jane’s every word.

The sight pleased Bennet.

If Bingley had even half a brain, Jane might soon have an excellent prospect—and she deserved no less .

As for the colonel, Bennet was less certain of his interest. Although his wife remained unaware, Bennet knew Fitzwilliam to be the younger son of an earl, and he doubted such a match would suit his eldest daughter.

While his daughters’ dowries were improved from what they had been five years ago, they did not approach the level of what a man like Colonel Fitzwilliam might seek in a wife.

Chuckling softly to himself at the absurdity of such a notion at their first meeting, he turned his attention to Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.

Mary and Catherine shared a settee with Mrs. Graham seated close at hand.

Mrs. Bennet surveyed the arrangement with considerable satisfaction though she was taken aback to see Mr. Darcy so readily position himself beside her second daughter.

No longer plagued by fears of being cast into the hedgerows upon her husband’s death—and having come, somewhat grudgingly, to recognise Elizabeth’s many merits—she was nonetheless astonished that such a handsome and wealthy gentleman as Mr. Darcy would choose to sit with her bookish daughter over the universally admired Jane.

Still, her spirits rose again as she observed that the other two gentlemen appeared to favour her eldest.

At first, the conversation was general, but soon, small groups began to emerge.

Bennet was seated near enough to Darcy and Elizabeth to engage in their discussion, which shifted easily between literature and the practicalities of land management.

He was, at first, mildly amused by the pairing, having not expected a man of Darcy’s wealth and status to pay attention to his second daughter despite their common interests.

Yet the more Bennet listened, the more he realised how naturally conversation flowed between the two and wondered if, perhaps, the idea George Darcy had written to him about shortly after his visit to Longbourn was not as outrageous as he might have first surmised.

Darcy spoke of some of the more recent innovations he had implemented at Pemberley, and Elizabeth responded with thoughtful, and at times teasing, observations.

When the conversation turned to the expense of maintaining tenant farms during poor harvests and difficult seasons, she asked sharp questions that Bennet could see gave Darcy pause—and pleasure.

That Darcy admired her wit was apparent; that Elizabeth was not entirely immune to his attention was equally so, though she masked it with her usual playfulness.

“I must say, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy remarked, following a particularly pointed comment she had made on a landlord’s duty to his tenants, “you are more conversant in estate matters than many gentlemen I encounter in town.”

Elizabeth tilted her head with mock-seriousness.

“Indeed, sir? Then I fear for their tenants if that is truly the case.”

Darcy laughed—quietly, but genuinely—and Bennet’s brows rose ever so slightly.

It was not a loud laugh, nor a lengthy one, but it bore no trace of artifice.

Given all he had heard of his guest, Mr. Darcy was not a man easily amused, especially in the company of ladies.

Despite his history with the Darcy family, Bennet had written recently to his brother in London to enquire what was known of the two gentlemen soon to be residing in Hertfordshire.

The report had arrived only that very morning and informed Bennet that Bingley had a habit of flitting from one pretty face to another, while Darcy tended to avoid any and all romantic entanglements—or even the suggestion of one.

This knowledge made Bennet determined to keep an eye on both men and to see how any courtships might progress, or whether they would progress at all.

“I am beginning to suspect,” Darcy said, sobering only slightly, “that if you managed an estate, Miss Elizabeth, half the county would prosper—or at least be required to read Cowper.”

“And the other half would learn to spell,” she replied with a smile.

That earned a second, quieter chuckle.

Bennet leant back in his chair, mildly astonished.

He had known Elizabeth was clever and quick— but he had not expected Darcy to be so willingly drawn out of his shell by his second daughter.

“Darcy,” he said, interjecting at last with a knowing glance, “you may find, if you continue this path, that my daughter will have you drawing up detailed plans to improve your estate before you leave the county.”

“I should not object,” Darcy said, looking straight at Elizabeth.

“Provided she would consent to inspect the estate first.”

Elizabeth flushed slightly, and Bennet, though outwardly calm, gave a silent huff of surprise.

The man might not be making declarations—but his intent was clear enough to a father who had not ceased observing him since the drawing room doors opened.

Across the room, Mrs. Bennet sat in her usual place in the room’s most comfortable chair, her hands tightly folded in her lap in an effort to appear composed.

As she was unaware of Darcy and Elizabeth’s previous meetings or the letters exchanged between them in her role as her father’s sometime secretary, it was the scene unfolding around her eldest daughter that she watched closely.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, for all his ease and cheerful manner, seemed to Mrs. Bennet more the sort who would charm a room for the pleasure of it, whereas Mr. Bingley, the dear man, looked entirely besotted with Jane already.

This delighted her; despite the changes in her conduct, Mrs. Bennet still saw a good marriage as the ultimate goal for her daughters.

“Oh, you must tell us more about Bath,” Jane was saying, her eyes bright as she addressed the colonel.

“I have never been, but I have heard so much about the Pump Room and the Assembly Rooms. Our neighbours, the Gouldings, went a few years ago and enjoyed it ever so much.”

“It is delightful, to be sure,” Fitzwilliam replied.

“I found it a touch overrun with matchmaking mamas and ambitious aunts, and my cousin Darcy would not step his foot in the place if he could help it. However, I escaped with my dignity intact—perhaps only because I returned to my regiment with haste.”

Everyone laughed, though Bingley’s smile faltered for half a second before he rallied.

“I have not had the opportunity to visit Bath either,” he said to Jane, a note of regret in his tone.

“But I have heard it does not hold a candle to the tranquility of the countryside. I confess, I am very much looking forward to my stay at Netherfield with such neighbours as yourselves to befriend us. My sisters will be delighted to make your acquaintance when they come.” Fitzwilliam struggled to contain his smirk at such a comment, knowing that at least one sister would be rather displeased by the connection.

Jane coloured prettily, and Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain the delighted gasp that tried to escape her throat at such blatant flattery.

Oh, there could be no doubt now—he was as good as hers, if only Jane played her cards correctly!

“Mr. Bingley is quite right,” Mrs. Bennet said suddenly, unable to help herself.

“Nothing is so fine as the country. And when one has as agreeable a prospect as Netherfield—why, it is the very finest situation imaginable for a young man of good fortune. I hope your stay there will be of some duration.”

Jane looked mortified, but Bingley only chuckled and nodded.

“I could not agree more, madam. My friends and I are most anxious to make this county our home for the autumn.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam, ever observant, hid a smile behind his teacup.

It appeared Bingley had found his “angel” for the duration of his stay in Meryton, and Fitzwilliam briefly wondered how his cousin would respond to his friend’s evident admiration of Miss Bennet.

There was no question that Darcy held a vested interest in the Bennet family, and he would not look kindly upon Bingley trifling with the sister of the first woman who had ever truly captured his notice.

For a moment, Fitzwilliam studied his cousin, who was deep in conversation with Miss Elizabeth, and then glanced towards their host—who, he observed, was watching all three gentlemen with a discerning eye.

Fitzwilliam offered Bennet a knowing smile and was gratified to receive a brief, acknowledging nod in return.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Bennet’s eyes flicked again towards Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth.

She had not missed the quiet way they leant into one another, nor the small smile that seemed to linger on Mr. Darcy’s face.

Good heavens, could it be?

Mr. Darcy, of Pemberley, favouring Lizzy?

Elizabeth, who preferred walking and books to ribbons and dancing?

After the Darcys departed all those years ago, her husband had made clear just how little regard the Darcys and Mr. Livesay had for her behaviour and that of their youngest daughters.

Bennet had impressed upon her the immense wealth of both gentlemen and the likelihood that their opinions would be echoed by others encountering the family for the first time.

That conversation had been the catalyst for her willingness to reform though the change had taken considerable time—and even now, she required frequent reminders of what was expected.

The girls, with the exception of Lydia, had adapted well.

Lydia, already spoiled at nine years old, had not taken kindly to the new order of things and had since been sent away to school where she remained.

Now, watching her second daughter converse with the young Mr. Darcy—whom she distinctly remembered looking at her with thinly veiled disdain all those years ago—Mrs. Bennet was astonished to see that such a man might take an interest in Elizabeth.

Of course, it might all come to nothing, for this was only their first proper meeting.

Still, even if Mr. Darcy proved not to be the one, this encounter compelled her to re-evaluate what she had previously believed about Elizabeth’s marriage prospects.

With Jane so clearly admired by Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth in close conversation with Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Bennet could barely keep her mind from running ahead.

Two daughters married!

Two grand houses—Netherfield and Pemberley!

No more talk of hedgerows and economies.

She would be the envy of Meryton and she could not wait to brag about her daughters’ conquests to all and sundry.

Her gaze settled momentarily on Mary and Catherine, who sat dutifully near Mrs. Graham and worked on their sewing.

Mrs. Bennet sighed. “Well,” she whispered to herself, “two out of five is nothing to sneer at. Of course, these daughters are scarcely considered out, despite Mary’s being eighteen, but Mr. Bennet insists they wait another year or two.” She grimaced at this thought, and then she recalled that gossiping of her daughters’ prospects was now forbidden.

That had been one of the first lessons her husband, in combination with Mrs. Graham, had forced her to learn.

A mother pushing a daughter towards a gentleman might have the opposite effect of the one intended, and she would not risk that.

She heard the group around Elizabeth chuckle once more, unsurprised to see that it was Elizabeth who had made some witticism that had her father and Mr. Darcy laughing.

Even the colonel was smiling at whatever had been said.

Whatever it was had flown over her own head, so Mrs. Bennet consoled herself by watching Jane and Mr. Bingley smile shyly at each other.