There is a longer author's note at the end. For now, let's get down to business.
CHAPTER NINE (PART II)
Once reunited with her companions for the day's diversion, Miss Bingley wasted no time in expressing the degree to which their prolonged absence had been felt. Mrs. Hurst, as usual, had little to add aside from the occasional well-placed nod in agreement with her unmarried sister's pronouncements. If she appeared relieved to no longer be the sole audience to her sister's grousing, it was politely overlooked. At length, Mr. Bingley interrupted the lady's observations to gently admonish her, reminding her that she might have joined the rest of the party on their ramble and thus not have been deprived of their company or made to wait in the carriage for their arrival. Mr. Bingley's willingness to correct his sister came as a surprise to more than one of their party. Mr. Darcy raised an eyebrow inquiringly at Charles, who shrugged and turned his attention back to Jane Bennet. Elizabeth and Charlotte exchanged knowing looks. None, however, were more surprised than Miss Bingley herself. An indignant huff was her only response before turning away from her offending brother and swiftly attaching herself to his friend.
As Mr. Bingley's staff had already carried the necessary provisions up Oakham Mount in anticipation of their master's arrival, there was nothing left to be done but for the young people to set out on the path toward the awaiting repast themselves. During their climb to the top, Miss Bingley,expecting to find in Mr. Darcy a sympathetic listener, voiced her opinions on a number of topics she considered to be of particular interest. These included criticisms of their present company, her observations on the superiority of town to the country, complaints regarding the steepness of the climb, and declarations of the general ridiculousness of a picnic in November. The gentleman, when he was not more agreeably engaged watching the vibrant young woman up ahead leading their party up to one of her favorite haunts, feigned polite interest in all Miss Bingley had to say. For the most part she required no response, which was fortunate as Mr. Darcy could not help but consider that it must have slipped her mind that he himself was a country gentleman and that his own home was situated in close proximity to the famed Peak District, which afforded plentiful walks against which the steepness of their present ascent would pale in comparison. So it was that as they neared their destination, one of the pair was uncharacteristically relieved to broaden his company and the other was well-pleased with what she perceived as a successful campaign to garner the gentleman's appreciation for her superior sense.
Upon arriving at a clearing near the top of the mount, the gentlemen assisted the ladies in seating themselves on the blankets that were neatly situated in the grass and adorned with a splendid array of offerings from the kitchens of Netherfield, Longbourn, and Lucas Lodge. Lemonade was poured, plates passed, and the company endeavored to make polite conversation as they enjoyed their meal.
Tiring of conversation regarding the upcoming ball at Netherfield which she had been coerced into planning as hostess in her brother's home, Miss Bingley's ill humour at length led her to pay what might from anyone else have been taken as a compliment to Charlotte Lucas. "Miss Lucas, these potatoes are simply divine! You must have your cook send the recipe to Netherfield as soon as may be," Miss Bingley's tone held a certain sharpness that belied the kindness of the words themselves. Elizabeth caught the lady's expression and glanced from her to her dear friend. It was likely that Miss Bingley had learned through her staff or gossip in town that the Lucases did not keep a cook. Though elevated to the knighthood, a cook was not a luxury Sir William Lucas could afford. Charlotte and her sister helped their mother prepare their meals and Elizabeth knew that the potatoes were one of Charlotte's specialties.
Charlotte was not as inclined as her friend to rise to such a challenge, so she simply thanked Miss Bingley and told her she would see that the cook at Netherfield received the recipe in due course.
Feeling it wise to steer the conversation in another direction, Elizabeth turned to Mr. Bingley, "Tell me, Mr. Bingley, how are you liking running your own estate?"
"I am still adjusting to the role of landlord, Miss Elizabeth, but I can say that it suits me rather well. Darcy here has been of great use in helping me learn the ropes and navigate the various issues one must address in running an estate."
"I am glad to hear it, sir. And have you had an opportunity to meet many of your tenants? I am sure they must be relieved to have a landlord in residence so that their needs might be attended to more efficiently than they have come to expect in the years Netherfield has lain vacant."
"Indeed, I have become acquainted with several of them over the past few weeks."
"Have you by chance had an occasion to meet the Sedgewicks?"
Mr. Bingley furrowed his brow in thought briefly before declaring that he did not recall having done so as of yet.
"I only mention them as their parcel borders my father's estate and is in close proximity to two of our own tenants who I visit regularly. Whilst Netherfield was vacant, I would include the Sedgewicks in my calls as Mrs. Sedgewick is very poorly and the children are rather young to be of much assistance. I believe Mr. Jones attends Mrs. Sedgewick out of kindness, though he can little afford to extend the charity himself. I do not believe the harvest was particularly kind to Mr. Sedgewick last year on account of some drainage issues that were left unattended. I fear the owner has been slow to address issues that have come up over the past few years." Elizabeth was well aware that her father's own tenants, the Cartwrights, were suffering under similar circumstances. She only hoped that Mr. Bingley would be quicker to act on the information than her father had.
"I am sure my brother and Mr. Darcy have the matter entirely in hand, Eliza. There is no need for your interference," Miss Bingley was clearly affronted at Elizabeth's knowledge of the matter and forwardness in mentioning it in company. Elizabeth cut her off before she could finish.
"I beg your pardon for my rudeness in interrupting you, Miss Bingley. I have no doubt of your brother's ability to handle the matter. I had only hoped to speak on behalf of his tenant as I know Mr. Sedgewick is soft spoken and may perhaps be hesitant to put forward his case knowing that your brother is now burdened with a multitude of matters to which he must attend." Turning back to Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth added, "I hope you will excuse my forwardness, Mr. Bingley. I meant no offense."
"None taken," Mr. Bingley said with his characteristic smile, "Your compassion for my tenants as well as your father's does you credit."
Mr. Darcy observed with conversation with obvious interest, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Miss Bingley. Mistaking his interest as disapproval, she endeavored to call further attention to what she considered a erring in Elizabeth Bennet's behavior. "Do you spend very much time in company with your father's tenants, Miss Eliza?" Miss Bingley could scarcely disguise the wrinkling of her nose at the very thought of entering such lowly dwellings to attend to those so far below her station.
"I do, Miss Bingley. They may not be my equals in status, but as they are dependent on our family, it is incumbent on us to see to their needs. Visiting them affords my mother, sisters, and I the opportunity to come to know them and better understand how we might be of assistance." Elizabeth glared at Miss Bingley in challenge, and then added for Mr. Bingley's benefit, "I am not so skilled at knitting or needlework as I ought to be, but Jane has made some truly lovely infant clothes for several of the expectant mothers on our property. She is kindness itself." This had the intended effect. Mr. Bingley positively beamed at Jane, who was seated beside him, and the lady blushed most becomingly under her sister's praise and the gentleman's undisguised admiration. Elizabeth herself was the unknowing recipient of admiring looks from more than one quarter.
Wishing for her sister likewise to receive her due, Jane replied, "Lizzy is too modest. Though she may not always be the one to fulfill a specific need, she is uncommonly gifted at assessing the needs of others. Beyond addressing our tenants' material needs, her cheerful nature is a much needed balm for many of those who are struggling under the weight of difficult circumstances."
"Dear Jane, you are too good. You would paint me a saint. While I could never doubt your sincerity, I am certain our present company is very much aware of my deficiencies in character. My impertinence is too well known for me to pass myself off with any degree of respectibility, I am afraid," Elizabeth teased, drawing a barely perceptible "Indeed" from Miss Bingley, which the former politely ignored, though she smiled all the more sweetly at her harshest critic. Impertinent, indeed.
Elizabeth went on to ask Mr. Bingley a number of questions regarding his approach to crop rotation and other improvements he might consider. His responses were slow and thoughtful, and he often looked to Mr. Darcy for confirmation of his understanding on a key point.
"Do you take a great interest in estate management, Miss Elizabeth?" Mr. Darcy asked her after she and Mr. Bingley had canvassed a number of topics.
Before she could respond with what would no doubt have been a teasing remark designed to challenge the gentleman's opinion on what she was certain he felt was an unladylike pursuit, her cousin inserted himself into the conversation, "My Cousin Bennet has provided ample opportunity for Miss Elizabeth to satisfy her curiosity on a number of topics not traditionally in the sphere of womanly studies. Having no sons of his own, such license is understandable. One likes to have someone they can converse with on topics of mutual interest in the privacy of one's own home or with close acquaintances," Mr. Collins finished, clearing his throat and tugging at the cuff of his sleeve before redirecting they conversation.
Mr. Darcy noted that while on the surface, Mr. Collins little speech seemed to be in support of his cousin's interests, he seemed to be rather ill at ease with the topic in general. His closing remark held a certain ambiguity to it that the gentleman from Derbyshire found interesting, particularly in light of the slight shift in conversation following his disclosure. The clergyman's discomfort with his cousin's pursuit of knowledge generally considered to be under the male purview was not be unusual — if that was indeed what it was. He cast a sidelong glance at Elizabeth, but he could not detect any hint of her feelings regarding her cousin's speech.
Mr. Darcy's musing were brought to an abrupt end as Mr. Bingley called for his attention, the bemused smile on his friend's face suggesting that he may have had to repeat himself more than once, "I beg your pardon, Bingley. I must have been woolgathering. What was it you were saying?"
"We were just discussing my humble origins and your magnanimosity in taking a tradesman's son under your wing," Mr. Bingley replied.
"You have more than repaid me with your friendship, Bingley. No one can doubt your value to me," Mr. Darcy responded.
Turning back to Mr. Collins, with whom the inquiry evidently originated, Mr. Bingley continued, "I am fortunate that growing up my father insisted on my active involvement in his business. Though he long hoped to fulfill his dream of providing with me with the means of becoming a landed gentleman, he refused to allow me to be idle. Indeed, I am grateful that due to his influence, I am not at all averse to applying myself and getting my hands dirty, as it were. I am finding that many of the principles of proper management and business sense I learned in my father's shop are equally as applicable in running an estate, even if the situations themselves vary greatly. I am equally fortunate to have a true friend in Darcy, who has sacrificed his own time and leisure so that he might go over things with me in painstaking detail to fill in the gap in my experience and education." His features held just a trace of melancholy in recalling the elder Mr. Bingley. Miss Bingley blanched at her brother's open discussion of their family's roots in trade.
"Come, Charles. No one has any interest in such things. Let us talk of something else," Miss Bingley interjected, picking at a piece of lint on her dress so as to appear less concerned than she truly was.
"I hate to contradict a lady," Mr. Collins nodded apologetically at Miss Bingley, which went unacknowledged, "but I find examining our roots to be a profitable endeavor. I believe there is great value in remembering our history. Our past — both personally and as a family — can provide value perspective for the present and future as well as engender gratitude for the blessings that have come through own our hard work as well as the generosity of others."
"And what is your own history, Mr. Collins?" Mr. Bingley asked kindly.
Sitting up from his somewhat reclined position, Mr. Collins shared with his companions, "I was not born a gentleman, but as the nephew of a baronet on my mother's side, I was afforded a gentleman's education and thereby a profession that allows me to association with people of many different stations in life, including the landed gentry. Through my own studies and the recommendation of my uncle, I was able to secure a generous living that supports a lifestyle with many of the niceties afforded to a gentleman." He hesitated momentarily as though determining how he ought to continue before saying, "Though the circumstances may not seem entirely favorable to all those involved at present, I will eventually inherit an estate and become a gentleman in my own right. I am hopeful that I will eventually find a kind and generous gentlewoman willing to overlook my humble origins and find felicity in the marriage state." He smiled warmly at Elizabeth beside him, who beamed back at him in approval.
"Here, here!" Mr. Bingley cheerfully returned, "That is my hope as well!"
Mr. Darcy, for whom the exchanged glances between Mr. Collins and Elizabeth had not gone unnoticed, inquired rather bluntly, "Would you offer for a gentlewoman before coming into your estate?" It was badly done, and he knew it. But it could not be unsaid, and however he might try to convince himself otherwise, his fate hinged on the answer.
Elizabeth bristled slightly and was about to speak when Mr. Collins calmly answered,just a hint of challenge in his voice, "If the right lady comes along, I would. I would not wish to pin my hopes of marital felicity on my Cousin Bennet's demise. To do so would not be conducive to filial affection. I am in no hurry to inherit and wish my cousin every blessing of health and happiness. I am quite content in the office of a clergyman and can support a wife in modest comfort with my present living."
"Of course, Mr. Collins!" Miss Bingley said in the same affected tone she had used in her thinly veiled insults to Charlotte earlier, "Some lady will be quite fortunate to receive your addresses. Indeed, she could not do better than secure a honorable gentleman such as yourself." Charles cleared his throat uncomfortably and Mrs. Hurst nearly choked on her lemonade. Uncertain what his sister was about, Mr. Bingley shot Miss Bingley a warning glance, which she shrugged off languidly.
Elizabeth felt the slight, though she was not certain of its intent — indeed, only two of their party understood the mark. Unable to hold her tongue, she replied, "I believe you are correct, Miss Bingley. I have always felt that it is actions that are the measure of a man — or lady — not merely rank or status."
Miss Bingley chuckled mirthlessly, "My dear, Eliza, that may do well here in the country, but you must allow it would never do in town. Perhaps, not having a home in town yourself, you have been spared the necessity of bowing to the restraints and expectations of society. For those in the first circles, rank is rank and income — or lack thereof — cannot be overlooked. Being situated in society as we are, my brother and I, and indeed Mr. Darcy and his sister will not have the luxury to overlook such considerations." She concluded her observations with a pointed look toward her brother and Jane Bennet.
"I acknowledge that some consideration must be given to status no matter where one lives. One must have something to live on. It would be foolish to suggest otherwise. It would however, be unfortunate for anyone to marry with only material considerations in mind," Elizabeth paused here for emphasis, gazing intently at Miss Bingley, who pretended not to notice. "Rank and income have no bearing on character or temperament, which ought to be priorities in selecting a marriage partner. Even in cases where both parties are of excellent character and temperament, there is the question of compatibility and affection. It would be a pity indeed to make an excellent match by social standards only to be shackled for life to someone with whom there is no hope of mutual affection and respect." Elizabeth spoke with such a fierceness that her conviction as to the truth of her assertions could not be doubted. She was not playacting for anyone's approval.
"You wish to marry for love then, Miss Elizabeth?" Mr. Darcy inquired in an oddly husky tone.
"Yes, sir. Only the deepest love will induce me into matrimony," she replied with a hint of defiance.
"How quaint," Miss Bingley sighed, feigning boredom.
Feeling it best to separate her friend and Miss Bingley before the verbal sparring could escalate any further, Charlotte seized the opportunity to ask Elizabeth to join her for a stroll toward an overlook that promised a particularly fine prospect of the surrounding countryside. She begged the pardon of the remainder of the party, claiming her forthcoming departure and subsequent deprivation of her dear friend's company as her only excuse.
Charlotte took Elizabeth's arm and pulled her close as they put some distance between themselves and Mr. Bingley's churlish sister. They walked in companionable silence, one of them keeping her observations of the morning's conversation to herself and the other allowing her temper to cool after a hour of such unrelenting provocation.
The ladies soon arrived at the anticipated overlook. They found a fallen log and made themselves comfortable as they spoke of inconsequential things, avoiding the topics that begged to be canvassed.
"I had once thought autumn my favorite of the seasons," Elizabeth observed after a particularly long lull in their conversation, "The loved changing leaves and a certain promise of renewal to come. The air of anticipation has often left me breathless." She paused, leaving Charlotte to wonder at her silence.
"And now, Lizzy? You said you had once thought it your favorite. Have you had a change of heart?"
"I am uncertain. Perhaps it is merely because it coincides with several significant changes in our lives now, but I cannot help but feel unsettled. Rather than feeling hopeful in anticipation of coming changes, I find I am anxious. You are to London, perhaps to stay. Jane is likely to be married ere long," Elizabeth trailed off, gazing absently out over the sun-drenched meadows stretching to the horizon.
"And perhaps you will not be long behind Jane in reaching the altar?" Charlotte tread lightly.
"Charlotte—"
"I am not referring to Mr. Darcy, Lizzy, however sorely I am tempted to once again point out your stubbornness on that score," she shook her head as Elizabeth began to protest, "I refer to your cousin, Mr. Collins. There is a spark there, Lizzy. I believe he admires you."
"You may be right, Charlotte."
"And you, Lizzy? Do you admire him?"
"Yet another subject on which I am uncertain," Elizabeth sighed, picking up a nearby stick and tossing it out over the cliff before them, "He is amiable certainly, but I am not sure we would suit."
"You are convinced none would suit you."
"More likely it will be the other way around, Charlotte."
"Do not let the likes of Miss Bingley cast you down — nor any comparisons your mother may draw," Charlotte took Elizabeth's hand and squeezed it before dropping it again.
"How is it that you would hold out hope for me, but none for yourself?" Elizabeth turned to face her friend, her eyes brimming with tears.
"It is different for me. I am seven years older, and my prospects have never been as good as yours. Fear not, Lizzy. I will be satisfied in London, and you will eventually find a gentleman who will either rise to meet your exactly standards or so capture your heart as to overthrow them," Charlotte smiled affectionately at Elizabeth and began to rise, "Now, I must go check on Maria. I noticed before we left that your youngest two sisters and my brother had wandered off from the rest of our party. I imagine they quickly became bored of such serious conversation. Jane is there, but I believe she will have been much occupied with Mr. Bingley. Maria will not want to be left for long with so many with whom she is not well acquainted. It may be wise to locate the other three as well. Shall you join me?"
"I will join you shortly, Charlotte. I believe I will enjoy the view a little longer in solitude before reentering the fray," Elizabeth's impish smile revealed that her good humour had returned.
"Behave yourself, Lizzy. She may be your sister ere long," Charlotte teased, eliciting a roll of the eyes from Elizabeth.
Charlotte had been gone for several minutes when Elizabeth heard a twig snap along the path behind her. "Back so soon, Charlotte? Was the company too oppressive for you?" Elizabeth called out merrily before looking back over her shoulder. She blushed crimson and jumped to her feet as she caught sight of Mr. Darcy coming into the clearing.
"I cannot speak for Miss Lucas, but I find the company quite pleasing this morning," Mr. Darcy answered her wayward remark and offered her a stiff bow in greeting.
Regaining her composure, Elizabeth returned a quick curtsy, "My apologies, Mr. Darcy. I thought my friend had rejoined me as she has only just left my company."
"I am sorry to disappoint, Miss Elizabeth," he gave a wry smile, "I passed Miss Lucas on the path, and she indicated that the view at the end was particularly fine."
"It is one of my favorites," Elizabeth replied, returning to the seat nature had so generously provided.
"May I?" Mr. Darcy gestured to the spot on the log beside her, a request to which she nodded in acquiescence, if reluctantly.
"It is a fine prospect," Mr. Darcy ventured after several moments of silence.
"But nothing to Derbyshire, I'm sure." Elizabeth replied pertly.
Mr. Darcy considered her for a moment. Her chestnut curls took on a soft glow in the dappled sunlight of the clearing in which they sat. At length he quietly replied, "I am naturally partial to my home county, Miss Elizabeth. The peaks and woods of Derbyshire hold fond memories for me. This gives them an unfair advantage over other places. It does not, however, negate the beauty other counties have to offer. It simply means that none but Derbyshire provide the warmth of home for me."
"That will not do, Mr. Darcy! How am I to tease you if you insist on giving such a sensible answer?" Elizabeth laughed lightly. The gentleman merely smiled in response, searching for an appropriate response.
As the moments stretched on awkwardly, his mind wandered to the events of the preceding day. Shuffling his feet slightly, he tentatively asked, "Do you often climb trees, Miss Elizabeth?"
"Not that often, Mr. Darcy," she chuckled, "Why? Have I offended your gentlemanly sensibilities?"
"Of course not, Miss Elizabeth. Climbing trees is no evil in itself. My cousins and I could often be found dangling from the branches of one of the many fine climbing trees at Pemberley in our youth."
"I confess I find it hard to imagine you dangling from a tree branch at any age, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth's eyes danced in merriment as she glanced at the proper gentleman beside her.
"Am I really so formal, Miss Elizabeth?"
"Until yesterday I had never seen you smile, sir. I had begun to imagine you born fully grown and with every proper refinement." She teased.
"I assure you that was not the case, Miss Elizabeth. My cousin Richard, in particular, assured that I found my way into all manner of mischief as a child. I have many fond memories of growing up in his company."
"I am glad to hear it, Mr. Darcy. Though I imagine that it has been quite some time since you have climbed a tree. You cannot feel it a proper diversion at this age."
"Are you so determined that I must find fault in your behavior?"
"Do you not? Your demeanor changed so decidedly once the initial shock wore off yesterday. I was certain you disapproved."
Mr. Darcy began to reply, but stopped himself.
"Out with it, sir. There is no need to prevaricate here."
"It was not your climbing a tree that shocked me, madam. It was only upon discovering that you had been hidden amongst the branches with an unmarried gentleman that I felt concern for your situation." Mr. Darcy had not meant to say anything about the matter, but his frustration at her willful misunderstanding got the better of him. The turn of her countenance at his chastisement caused him to immediately regret voicing these thoughts.
"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth cut him off, her rising ire evident in her clipped tone, "What business is it of yours how I conduct myself?" She stood from their perch, and he quickly followed suit.
"I had not meant to suggest—" Mr. Darcy's response was slow and inarticulate as he searched for an answer that would not betray the nature of his interest in her affairs, but his failure to offer a suitable answer only angered her further.
"Are you my father?"
"Certainly not, madam."
"My brother?"
"I am not," he muttered, grinding his teeth in aggravation at her stubbornness and silently cursing his own inability to keep quiet on the subject.
"My husband?"
He started at her question. His gaped at her for a moment, unable to immediately answer as the sound of the blood rushing in his ears drowned out all else. Her husband. He was not her husband. He had convinced himself he could not be. But she would marry, and that man, whomever he might be, would have every right to check her behavior as he had attempted to do, to talk and laugh freely with her, to share every intimacy with the lovely, brilliant woman before him. He suddenly felt ill.
Elizabeth's ire wavered for but a moment as she watched the colour drain from Mr. Darcy's face, but the compassion that flickered within her heart for the man was quickly extinguished.
"Elizabeth—"
"Do not, sir!" Elizbeth hissed, her eyes ablaze with fury, "How dare you chastise me for climbing a tree in the company of a gentleman when you have now twice had the audacity to use my Christian name without my leave to do so. Mr. Collins is my cousin, sir. We were accompanied by my sister. However much my behavior might be frowned upon by the elevated ladies of your acquaintance, it was not a matter of gross impropriety as you suggest. Your familiar use of my Christian name, however, if overheard, could lead to speculation that would be detrimental to both of our reputations. Mine, most especially. If either of us is to be chastised for forgetting themselves, sir, it is you. I beg that you would refrain from repeating the offense and leave me to my own counsel."
Mr. Darcy drew himself up, his back rigid, his lips drawn in a tight line, "You are perfectly right, madam. You have my sincerest apologies."
"I would ask that you leave me, Mr. Darcy. We are alone here, and I will not have my reputation put in any further risk by your remaining any longer. You have made it perfectly clear that I am not handsome enough to tempt you even to dance. I can only imagine how much more unpalatable a forced marriage would be to you. Save yourself, Mr. Darcy, and leave me in peace." Elizabeth said with a quiet fierceness that spoke of her bitterness.
Mr. Darcy felt like he had been struck. She had heard him at the assembly. He had not time to register the significance of this revelation or make his retreat before Charlotte came upon them, shaking her head and muttering to herself. She stopped short when she looked up and observed the two of them locked in a heated gaze, her friend with her arms stubbornly crossed over her chest and chin raised defiantly, the gentleman looking a tad bewildered as he saw her approach.
Mistaking the cause of his bewilderment, Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed audibly, "Fear not, Mr. Darcy. As she was foolish enough to send you up the path where she knew I sat alone, Charlotte will hardly be announcing a compromise to the greater company." She gave Charlotte a severe look.
"No, of course not," Charlotte answered, properly chastised, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy. I merely came to claim my friend for her sisters who are asking for her."
"Of course, Miss Lucas, Miss Elizabeth" Mr. Darcy gave a swift bow to the ladies, who returned curtsies of their own before they turned and swiftly made their way down the path.
"My gracious, Lizzy. Whatever happened between you and Mr. Darcy?" Charlotte inquired of her friend as soon as the two were far enough down the path that the gentleman might not overhear their conversation.
"Nothing of consequence, Charlotte. I merely let my temper get the better of me." Elizabeth replied curtly. She would not mention the gentleman's baffling use of her Christian name. He made no advances on her, for which she was grateful. But why take such a liberty in using her Christian name? Insufferable, confusing man.
Elizabeth sighed audibly and took Charlotte's arm, squeezing it affectionately, "I am sorry, Charlotte. I do not mean to be short with you. Whatever Mr. Darcy's offenses, you should not be subjected to my ire on account of them. I hope this outing has proved beneficial for Jane, otherwise I must rue the day I thought to suggest such a scheme. I am beginning to appreciate my mother's nerves," she laughed wryly, burying her disquiet under a facade of humour. Charlotte was not fooled, but she knew better than to press her friend to share a confidence she did not wish to share. "Now, tell me, were you merely rescuing me, or do my sisters truly require my presence?"
"The latter, I am afraid," Charlotte frowned. "When I returned to the others, Maria asked me to accompany her in seeking out your youngest two sisters. After some time searching, we came upon your sisters in a terrible argument. John was with them, though he seemed at a loss as to what to make of their hysterics. I could make little of what they said, so I told them to quiet themselves and not to move from the spot until I returned with you. I was confident I could address whatever tomfoolery John has gotten himself into, but I felt it would be better I had reinforcements where your sisters are concerned. I sent Maria back to the others to ensure no one else ventures over to where I left our wayward siblings until we can sort out what has happened."
"I applaud you for your quick thinking, Charlotte. I fear I am ill equipped to endure any more of Caroline Bingley's thinly veiled insults against my family this morning. Have you no idea of what has occurred?"
"I do not rightly know, Lizzy. I hope John has not been so foolish as to compromise one of them."
"I confess I think him a fool for following one or both of them without a more reliable chaperon, but worry not, Charlotte. My father will not force him to marry either of them."
"How can you be certain? Not that it would be so terrible to be sisters, of course, but John is but one and twenty with no means of providing for a wife."
"Trust me, Charlotte. He is safe."
Elizabeth and Charlotte quietly slipped past the area where Mr. Bingley and his sisters still sat with Jane and Mr. Collins, soon arriving at the copse of trees where the guilty parties awaited them. Lydia was perched on a large rock, plucking at the ribbon on her bonnet, which she had removed and held in her lap. She appeared bored, but otherwise composed. A particularly unladylike sniffle from her next oldest sister drew Lydia's attention, eliciting a roll of her eyes before she returned her attention to her bonnet, an action that hinted at her utter lack of concern over whatever it was that had so discomposed her sister. Kitty leaned against a tree a little further away with her back to Lydia, but Elizabeth could see enough of her face to tell that her skin had the tell-tale red blotches left in the wake of copious tears. John greeted his sister and Elizabeth as they approached, alerting his companions to their company.
Elizabeth wasted no time in inquiring as to what had taken place between the assembled parties. Both Lydia and Kitty began to talk at once, their volume rising as each attempted to talk over the other, gesticulating wildly. Elizabeth hissed a harsh "Be quiet!" to them as she looked back over her shoulder. Although the trees somewhat obscured them from view of the party still assembled on blankets nearby, they were still close enough to draw the others' attention. With some coaxing and several reminders to mind their volume, Elizabeth and Charlotte were able to piece together a somewhat coherent narrative through the sobs of one sister and the gloating of the other. It would seem that at some point Lydia had tired of the company and conversation and convinced John to take a walk with her. Kitty noticed their absence not long after and went in search of them. It had taken Kitty some time to locate her wayward sister and her would-be beau. When she had found them, they were in suspiciously close proximity. Lydia denied it was anything serious, laughing off her sister's accusations of catching them on the verge of a passionate embrace, but the deep crimson shade creeping up John Lucas's cheeks and his refusal to meet Elizabeth's eyes indicated that Kitty was not far from the truth of the matter. He muttered a half-hearted defense, but was quickly cut off by Charlotte who informed him he would have his say when they returned to Lucas Lodge and their father.
At length, Kitty's tears resumed. Lydia, seeming to realize that some remorse would be fitting, approached Kitty and placed her arm around her shoulders, "Come, Kitty. I do not even like John. You know I could not like a man without a red coat. I was merely bored and in need of amusement. No harm is done," she said lightly. John gaped at her, astonished at having been so ill used.
Kitty threw off Lydia's hand and rounded on her, "How dare you!" she screamed. Her tone was hysterical and she pushed Elizabeth off as well as she attempted to soothe and shush her. She jabbed her finger at Lydia's chest, shocking the young girl, whose eyes were wide in fright, "You always have your way, Lydia. Mama is forever taking your side against me. You have the best ribbons, the finest dresses, the most attention. Even so, we have always managed to work it out between us in the end. But this, Lydia? You knew that I liked him. You knew, and yet you would do this? And for your mere amusement, no less?" Here Lydia attempted a half-hearted laugh as though Kitty were playing some sort of choke, but another jab of her sister's finger quickly silenced her. "No, Lydia! You will not laugh this off as some sort of joke. I am done with you!" With these parting words, Kitty stormed off to join the rest of the company.
As Kitty passed her on the path, Miss Bingley vacillated between smug amusement at the spectacle before her and annoyance at being forced into such vulgar company. When Elizabeth started down the path and suddenly caught sight of her, she attempted to meet her eye, jutting her chin out and looking down her nose in triumph at the inferior country chit before her. Realizing that Elizabeth was looking past her rather than meeting her eye, she followed her gaze, turning to look back over her shoulder. The smirk quickly fell from her lips as she saw her brother still seated on the blanket with Jane Bennet, a tender smile gracing his features as he leaned toward her and reached up to remove a wayward leaf that had fallen in Jane's coiffure. Mrs. Hurst had fallen asleep where she sat and Mr. Collins was nowhere to be seen. They were too far away to hear Mr. Bingley and Jane's conversation, but such familiarity combined with the pink tinge to Jane's cheeks as Mr. Bingley spoke to her could not but raise alarm for the gentleman's sister. When Miss Bingley turned back to face Elizabeth, it was the latter who now wore a look of triumph. Narrowing her eyes at her adversary, Miss Bingley spun on her heels and hurried over to where her brother and Jane Bennet sat each consumed with the other.
Putting forth a performance worthy of Covent Garden, Miss Bingley convinced her brother that her present health required their immediate removal to Netherfield. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Collins soon rejoined the rest of the party, Mrs. Hurst was roused, and Mr. Bingley's footmen were called on to immediately begin packing the provisions to return to Netherfield. Mr. Bingley apologized profusely to his friends for such an abrupt departure and promised to send the carriage round to Lucas Lodge and Longbourn to return their belongings so that his companions might return home as unencumbered as they had come.
It was with mixed emotions that the party from Netherfield were bid farewell and the rest of the young people began their short journey home.
A/N: There is a lot going on in this chapter to move several key components of the plot along. I hope it's not too much. Again, this picnic has been a challenge, but my muse returned from vacation this week and things finally came together.
Posting Schedule: Let's be real here. There simply isn't one. I genuinely hope not to go more than a few weeks without a post, but I am finding that it is foolish to make promise that time and inspiration have repeatedly conspired to overturn. I will tell you that one of my goals for this year is to complete this story. There is A LOT of ground to cover to make that happen. My goal is to write a minimum of 3,000 words per week REGARDLESS of what scenes those words may cover. This means that I may be writing a scene in London with the Colonel and Darcy, a proposal, or any of number of things already planned as inspiration arises for those scenes and dialogues. I will always come back to try to move the plot along so that I can post semi-regularly (the ping of my email notifications for new followers and reviews is a HUGE encouragement, afterall!), but I would prefer to know that progress is being made even if it is not always done chronologically. At some point we'll meet in the middle and end up with more frequent updates as a result. My combined birthday and Christmas gift from my husband is a three day writer's retreat at a cozy little vacation rental I've had my eye on. That will occur sometime in early spring, so hopefully that will be a productive few days to help us move things along.
Reviews: I wish I had time to respond to all of you as I so appreciate the time you take to provide feedback and encouragement. Unfortunately my time is so very limited at present, so I have been opting to write rather than respond to reviews individually. I am sorely tempted to venture comments on some of them, but I'm afraid I will give away too much of what is to come. I will say that several of you are quite perceptive and very close to hitting on what I am trying to achieve with our beloved characters.
Oops: As I reread the posted version (I do this because I invariably see mistakes I missed not five minutes before when rereading BEFORE posting - it's magic, I tell you!), I realized that I have somehow misplaced poor Mary in this chapter. Poor girl had a brief moment with Mr. Darcy and then goes MIA for the picnic. This will be fixed during later edits, but suffice it to say that her involvement will have no bearing on the plot for these events.
Now, pretty please click 'Review" below and tell this tired mama what you think so I can have a little good cheer during a difficult week of potty training a two-year-old. ;)