Page 8 of The Painting (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

E lizabeth and her party returned home soon after midday, exhausted but happy.

Protected by the privacy offered by the bathing machine, they had indulged themselves in as much sea bathing as they liked.

Behind the machine, she discovered she could even swim a little, supported by her cousins’ cheering.

George—the eldest—joined her in her attempt at exercise, much to the disappointment of the other children, who were forced to remain with their mother.

Mrs Gardiner, Jane, Mary and Kitty did not move even an inch away from the machine, but their enjoyment was no less.

On their way back, when they were about to enter the garden of their cottage, the Gardiner children met a girl and a boy, playing with an English setter puppy.

Their new acquaintances—Annie and James—appeared to be around Margaret’s age and the six children, as well as the dog, became good friends during the few minutes they spent together.

When Mrs Gardiner insisted that it was time to rest and that they would be allowed to play together later in the afternoon, she was met with strong opposition from her children.

Luckily, the other two were also called by their mother and they disappeared—together with their puppy—into the garden of the neighbouring house.

At home, Elizabeth found a note from Mrs Forster, inviting her to call whenever she chose. The colonel’s wife informed her that Lydia was being properly taken care of and that the other Miss Bennets were also welcome to visit them at any time.

“Mrs Forster is all kindness. She seems very attached to Lydia,” Elizabeth said.

“I imagine she is; Lydia is very fond of her too. From what I have seen, she is a lovely lady,” Jane agreed.

“Should we visit her later today? I would like to see Lydia as soon as possible.”

“Of course. But Lizzy, I am afraid Lydia will not agree to leave Mrs Forster and stay with us.”

“Probably not. But we should leave her with no choice. The more I reflect on this situation, the more I believe she should not be left alone in a camp full of officers. She is too young to guard her manners and too unwise to make good decisions.”

“I hope Mrs Forster will not be offended by us taking Lydia from her guardianship.”

“We will be careful in our request. We will tell her that this is a unique opportunity for Lydia to spend more time with our cousins, who miss her. Besides, Lydia may still visit Mrs Forster and attend her parties. Perhaps accompanied by at least one of us.”

“Lizzy, is there something particular that worries you? You are very impatient to take Lydia from a place that has been approved by Papa, and I cannot understand why.”

Elizabeth hesitated briefly.

“I am worried and impatient. Papa should not have allowed her to leave. A young, pretty girl could be easily deceived by men who are in search of entertainment, with no regard for the harm they may cause others.”

“You mean Mr Wickham?”

“Yes. But he is surely not the only one,” Elizabeth replied. “Since we are here, we can offer our youngest sister all the care and attention she requires at her tender age. I will write to Papa right away and ask him to support me. And I am sure Aunt Madeline will agree with me too.”

“Very well, Lizzy. I am always on your side as you well know. Oh, listen! That beautiful tune again! I am very curious to know who is playing. ”

“So am I. I will ask Mrs Crawford—I am sure she must know. It is beautiful,” Elizabeth agreed. “Truly beautiful.”

∞∞∞

The clock had barely passed midday when Darcy returned from his ride and withdrew to his chamber.

He had had the chance to observe the houses of the families mentioned by Mrs Clarke; all of them were animated, with many people around, but nothing particular caught his attention.

In the end, he did not even know what he was searching for, what clue did he expect to find, thirty years after some event might or might not have occurred there?

He poured himself a glass of wine, then took a chair near the window. He was so tired—in body and soul—that a long sea bathe seemed the perfect remedy. But he felt too uncomfortable to be in company and even less to make new acquaintances.

There was a knock at the door and then Stevens’ voice was heard, “Sir, Mr Bingley has just arrived.”

Darcy put his glass aside, standing up.

“Has he? Are the chambers ready for him and his men?”

“Of course. He asked if—”

Before the servant had time to finish, Bingley barged in, wearing his usual smile and a delighted expression on his face.

“Darcy! How wonderful to see you!”

“Likewise, my friend. I hope you travelled well?”

“Very well, thank you! But what are you doing in Brighton?”

“I have some business here.”

“Nothing bad, I hope? Your letter took me utterly by surprise. I expected you to be at Pemberley and to meet you there next month.”

“Yes, well, it was a sudden change of plans.”

“I never knew you had any affairs in Brighton. Not that I am complaining, there is nothing better than to be at the seaside during a hot summer.”

“True. I hope you will approve of your room. The house is in a poorer condition than I had anticipated, so if you wish to look for another place to stay, you certainly may find something more comfortable.”

“If it is convenient for you, surely it will be for me too! But whose house is this?”

“It is the cottage where my mother used to stay every year. Both before and after her marriage. I came here with her for many years, as a child. Mrs Clarke owns it.”

“Oh, I see.”

“It is the first time I have visited since my mother passed away and it is not what I expected. I am helping Mrs Clarke to improve the place.”

“I dare say the cottage is very well situated close to the sea, although quite far away from the centre of the town and its entertainment.”

“It is indeed far from the animation of the town, which is one of the reasons my mother chose it. Make yourself comfortable and we will talk more later.”

“Excellent!”

After Bingley left, Darcy’s uneasiness increased.

There was no sign of any apparent suffering or lack of spirits in Bingley’s appearance.

Whether he was still thinking of Miss Jane Bennet or still pined after her, Darcy could not speculate.

Unlike himself, who had never completely recovered after Elizabeth’s rejection, his friend seemed in his usual disposition.

For a moment, Darcy pondered if there was any use in stirring up old memories and discussing Miss Bennet with Bingley at all.

However, he quickly dismissed such a notion.

It was a matter of honour and loyalty to confess the truth to his friend and to admit his presumptuous error of judgment.

He only needed to find the right time for such a delicate conversation.

Half an hour later, refreshed and changed, Bingley returned, declaring he was perfectly pleased with the accommodation.

They enjoyed some refreshments, exchanging news from the last few months.

They were still in Darcy’s room, as the rest of the house was in the middle of alterations and both the old and the new servants were busy with their duties.

“You know, Darcy, my friend Peter Dawson is in Brighton too. I would like to briefly call on him so he knows I have arrived. I hope you do not mind.”

“Of course not. Why would I mind?”

“I know you find him to be shallow and you are not very fond of his company.”

“I have no business to judge your friends. I am sure many others are not fond of my company either,” Darcy replied.

“So, will you join me?”

“I am afraid I cannot. But please be sure it has nothing to do with Dawson; I am afraid I am in no disposition to make any calls.”

Bingley sipped from his glass. “I believe you. I have to say you look rather unwell. Is there anything wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No. I am only preoccupied, as I have some matters to resolve.”

“I see. Are you troubled by being here? Because of your mother? Forgive me, I know it is a painful subject for you.”

Darcy hesitated and emptied his glass. “Partially.”

“There is more? Will you not tell me? I feel you are reluctant to speak to me—which has never happened before. You have always spoken to me openly about what is bothering you.”

“Yes, well…Perhaps I should have been more guarded in expressing myself,” Darcy said bitterly.

“I am at a loss to what you could possibly mean, Darcy.”

“Do not worry, we have plenty of time to discuss this later. Make your plans as you wish to.”

“Darcy, I have come because you wrote to me, so my wish is to make plans that coincide with yours.”

“Thank you, my friend. Your kindness is much appreciated.”

“Do not speak of kindness, Darcy, when you have been so generous with me since we became friends.” He suddenly paused, listening to the sound that had entered through the open windows.

“Who is playing? Is Georgiana here? ”

“No, of course she is not here. I would have told you if she was. Someone from a nearby house is playing,” Darcy answered.

“What a wonderful performance!”

“It is, Bingley. So, will you call on Dawson now?”

“If you do not mind. I will return in a few hours.”

“Very well, then. Just in time for dinner.”

“Are you certain you do not wish to join me?”

“Very much so, Bingley. We will speak more this evening.”

In truth, Darcy felt relieved that his friend had other plans that might keep him entertained. It offered him time to prepare his speech for the upcoming conversation that he expected to turn into a confrontation.

But regardless of his low disposition, Peter Dawson—Lord Stanford’s youngest son—was not his idea of good company. In that, Bingley was correct.

∞∞∞

In the afternoon, Elizabeth and Jane visited Mrs Forster, as they had planned. Mary stayed at home, but Kitty insisted, even cried to be allowed to join them, and Mrs Gardiner—whose carriage they used—supported her request.