Page 59 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

On the road to Pemberley

“I do beg of you not to concern yourself about your garments, Elizabeth,” Miss Caroline Bingley said with false solicitude.

“Mr. Darcy will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed, and it would be quite inappropriate, given your station, for you to wear the type of clothing which is common at Pemberley. Mr. and Miss Darcy, as close relations to an earl, wish for the distinction of rank to be preserved.”

“Of course they do,” Elizabeth returned, her eyes dancing.

Miss Bingley was not a perceptive woman, but she was well enough acquainted with Elizabeth to know that her companion was amused.

“You find my words diverting?” she demanded loftily.

“I do, a little,” Elizabeth answered. “Pray forgive me; I am not laughing at you, of course. It is merely that when I visited my friend Charlotte Collins in Kent a few months ago, her husband told me exactly the same thing before I had dinner with Lady Catherine de Bourgh, aunt to Mr. Darcy. The Darcys and de Bourghs are fortunate to have such loyal and faithful connections. I am most appreciative, Caroline. It would be quite dreadful if I put myself forward in an unbecoming way while staying at Pemberley.”

Caroline stared at her companion suspiciously, but Elizabeth merely peered back with limpid innocence, and Caroline was satisfied.

“I flatter myself that I am a close friend to the Darcys,” the lady said complacently.

“Mr. Darcy is my brother’s closest friend, and I am confident that Miss Darcy enjoys my companionship very much.

She is a truly remarkable young lady! I have never met a girl so accomplished for her age.

She is but sixteen, you know, and already plays the pianoforte far better than I do, and I know myself to be quite a master at the instrument! ”

“She sounds remarkable,” Elizabeth replied, keeping her tone carefully neutral.

She was quite certain she would dislike both Mr. and Miss Darcy profoundly.

Mr. Darcy, of course, had deprived the charming Lieutenant George Wickham of a living intended for him, and Miss Darcy, according to the same Mr. Wickham, was excessively proud.

Given their close familial relationship to the haughty Lady Catherine de Bourgh, it was no surprise that the Darcys were arrogant, though it was, perhaps, startling that Mr. Darcy was reputedly a close friend to Charles Bingley .

At least Pemberley was reputed to be beautiful, and she would have Jane by her side throughout the entire visit.

Sweet Jane, now Mrs. Bingley, could render any social occasion a pleasure.

Elizabeth was also very fond of Charles, her new brother by marriage.

She was not the sort of person to be easily intimidated, and in spite of Mr. and Miss Darcy’s pride, and Miss Bingley’s sniping, she was certain she would have an agreeable time at Pemberley.

/

Pemberley

“Bingley!” Darcy exclaimed as his friend stepped out of his carriage and onto the gravel drive in front of Pemberley

“Darcy,” his friend returned, reaching forward to shake his hand. “It is so good to see you again. It has been entirely too long!”

“I agree,” Darcy replied, his soul lightening within him.

It had been almost a year since he had enjoyed his friend’s buoyant presence.

It had been a difficult year, leaving him feeling emotionally dry and weary.

Bingley had always been a source of good cheer, and Darcy had missed his friend more than he had realized.

“Darcy, I must introduce you to my bride,” Bingley said, turning back toward the carriage. He held out his hand as a young woman, dressed in a dark blue gown, grasped his hand and stepped out beside him.

“Jane, my dear, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, master of Pemberley and my good friend. Darcy, my wife, Mrs. Jane Bingley.”

“Welcome, Mrs. Bingley,” Darcy said, bowing as Jane curtsied. A moment later, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst emerged from the carriage, and in the midst of greetings and salutations, Darcy surreptitiously analyzed the new Mrs. Bingley.

His first thoughts were full of grim satisfaction.

Mrs. Bingley was, as he expected, blonde and blue eyed.

She was also, he admitted to himself, remarkably handsome; indeed, if she had come out in London society, she would have been one of the belles of the season.

It was no surprise at all that the lady had captured Bingley’s fickle heart, and based on the proud expression on Bingley’s face, the marriage was a satisfactory one.

For now, at any rate. At least the new Mrs. Bingley was dressed with rather surprising restraint.

Instead of wearing whites or yellows, which would show the dirt during the journey, she was wearing a patterned blue and green muslin gown.

Her hat, too, was a simple straw hat trimmed only with a blue ribbon.

Mrs. Bingley looked far more sedate than he expected for a woman who had married for money.

In the midst of his contemplation, another carriage had pulled up and a feminine voice cried out, “Mr. Darcy!”

Darcy slowly blew out a breath and turned to bow at Miss Caroline Bingley.

The lady was, unlike her new sister, dressed in a light, diaphanous garment, and Darcy was startled to realize that the bodice was made out of silver muslin.

It was a ridiculous gown to wear during travel but it was also an expensive dress; Miss Bingley had always flaunted her wealth, especially when she knew that Darcy would be present.

“Miss Bingley, welcome to Pemberley,” he said courteously, taking her hand and bowing over it.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Caroline gushed. “Oh, it has been far too long since we have seen one another! I do hope you and Miss Darcy are well?”

“We are,” Darcy said calmly and was relieved when Bingley swam suddenly into view, his face wreathed with smiles, and said, “Darcy, I must make you known to my new sister. Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy, our gracious host. Darcy, Miss Bennet, Jane’s next younger sister. ”

Again Darcy found himself bowing across from an unknown lady, and again he found himself reluctantly impressed.

The girl standing in front of him was very pretty, if perhaps not quite as handsome as her older sister, with dark chestnut curls peeking out from her straw bonnet.

Like Mrs. Bingley, she was sensibly dressed in a tan dress with a green bodice.

She wore a necklace with a simple cross around her neck, and her dark eyes glowed with vitality and intelligence.

“Miss Bennet, welcome to Pemberley,” he said courteously.

“Thank you, sir. We are most grateful for your invitation,” the lady responded, then turned toward the lake which shimmered in front of the massive front facade of Pemberley.

“You have an incredible view here, Mr. Darcy. Derbyshire is wilder than my home county of Hertfordshire, and I find the hills and rocks and streams to be remarkable.”

“Thank you, Miss Bennet,” Darcy replied, thawing a little. The lady was unusual in complimenting the landscape instead of the house itself.

“Of course, the scenery is nothing compared to the mansion!” Caroline Bingley simpered.

“Pemberley is awe inspiring, and it is far greater than my brother’s leased mansion of Netherfield Park.

As for Longbourn, well, it is no doubt a charming little house, but nothing compared to the edifice before us. Do you not agree, Miss Bennet?”

There was a poorly concealed, venomous note in Miss Bingley’s voice, but Elizabeth Bennet merely smiled and said, “Longbourn is much smaller, yes, but then my father’s estate is far smaller than Pemberley.

It seems reasonable that the size of the master’s home ought to correlate with the size of the estate. ”

“That is true enough, Elizabeth,” Mr. Bingley said, shooting an irritated look at his unmarried sister. “But come, the sun is hot and Jane should get out from the rays.”

Jane Bingley blushed and said, “Oh, I am well enough, I assure you.”

“Bingley is correct,” Darcy said courteously. “Please, I beg you to come within. Mrs. Reynolds, our housekeeper, will show you to your rooms where you can refresh yourselves.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Caroline exclaimed fulsomely. “You are too kind.”

/

Twenty minutes later, Bingley, now dressed in buckskin breeches and an olive green coat, stepped into the study where Darcy was reading through a report on the wheat fields of Pemberley’s home farm. Darcy set down the papers with a smile and said, “Do come in and have some brandy.”

“Thank you,” Bingley replied, wandering over to an open window which looked out over a large pond.

“Ah, that breeze is most refreshing. I am sincerely grateful for your invitation, Darcy. Jane is not entirely well, and the London air is not salubrious this time of year, nor is she comfortable in a moving carriage.”

“I hope it is nothing serious?”

“Well, no,” Bingley said cautiously, and then grinned. “I can trust you, I know. The truth is that we are quite certain Jane is with child. We have not told my sisters but yes, it seems definite.”

“Congratulations!” Darcy returned, and he meant it.

Like most gentlemen, Bingley was eager to sire an heir.

More than that, though, his friend had always been excellent with children.

Indeed, Bingley had met Georgiana when the girl was only ten years of age and had managed to befriend her, which was not an easy task.

Darcy had even entertained the hope that one day Bingley and his sister would make a match of it.

Bingley was one of the few men who would be consistently patient with his sister’s more unusual character traits.

It was not obvious that Georgiana would ever make a suitable wife to anyone, but Bingley had been Darcy’s best hope, now lost.

“I declare I am the happiest man in all of England,” Bingley said, breaking into Darcy’s gloomy thoughts. “I do pray that you find such a compatible wife, my friend. Life is unquestionably better with a loyal, faithful, and loving companion at your side.”

“You are fortunate to have found such a lady,” Darcy said as he began pouring brandy into glasses. “What can you tell me about your bride? I know you wrote me several times while you were in Hertfordshire and London, but I confess that your letters were…”

He trailed off and Bingley laughed aloud. “Difficult to read? I know that I am often illegible, and given my courtship and marriage to Jane, I was probably even more confusing than usual. I would be delighted to tell you about my wife and her family if it is not too boring.”

“Not at all, though I must ask, will Mrs. Bingley require your presence in the next hour?”

“No, she urged me to come and spend an hour or two with you while she rests. Elizabeth will make certain that Jane is well cared for; the two sisters are very close. ”

“That is good,” Darcy replied, handing a glass to his friend and sitting down on a wingback chair near an open window.

“It is,” Bingley said warmly, taking a sip of his own drink as he sank down into a chair near his friend.

“Well, anyone with eyes can see that my wife is incredibly handsome. But more than that, she is kind, gentle, loving, and godly. I have never met anyone with such a tender heart. She has won the loyalty of the servants both at Netherfield Park and in our London house through her good nature.”

Darcy was impressed. Many a woman won admiration from nobles and gentry because of her beauty, but a servant often saw a different side of her mistress.

In truth, one of the reasons that Darcy disliked Caroline Bingley was that she was often rude to servants, indicating that her natural tendency was to be arrogant and disdainful toward others.

When she dealt with her social betters, she managed to conceal such propensities, but Darcy was more interested in a woman’s true character as opposed to the facade she put on in elevated company.

“How many siblings does Mrs. Bingley have?” he asked.

“She has four younger sisters, with Elizabeth being second to Jane. Her father is master of a small estate which borders Netherfield Park, called Longbourn. Regrettably, the estate will pass to a distant relation when Mr. Bennet dies, as the estate is entailed to the male line.”

“That is most unfortunate,” Darcy agreed with a frown. “Do the daughters have reasonable dowries?”

“No. Mrs. Bennet, whose father was a solicitor, brought five thousand pounds into the marriage, and it has become clear that Mr. Bennet has not set any substantial sum for his daughters.”

Darcy compressed his lips and said, “They must have been very pleased at your marriage, then.”

Bingley’s usually cheerful expression transformed into cold disapproval. “They were pleased because they wished for their daughter to be happy, nothing more. I expect such remarks from Caroline, but not you, Darcy.”

“My apologies,” Darcy said hastily. “Though there is no shame in a lady seeking a man of fortune, especially given the financial situation of Mrs. Bingley’s family.”

“That is true enough,” Bingley allowed, his expression relaxing, “though Caroline, and to some degree Louisa, drove me nearly mad with similar remarks when I was courting Jane. My younger sister kept whining that the Bennets were merely interested in my fortune, and that my beloved would marry me for my money alone. Such absurdity! My dear bride is a most honorable woman, and she would not pretend an attachment which did not exist.”

Darcy blinked and took another gulp of brandy.

On this occasion, he was inclined to agree with Miss Bingley’s assessment of the situation, but it would be foolish to say so, and would only serve to offend his friend.

For better or for worse, Bingley was married to the former Miss Jane Bennet of Longbourn, and nothing could be done about it now.