Part two of a double upload, if you've not read Lizzy's letter head back to chapter four.
Chapter Five
By the time the Netherfield party had been in residence for a fortnight, Bingley and Darcy had reviewed a large proportion of the estate. There was still one tenant farm to look over and some investigations to be concluded into a ledger that was not tallying correctly, but on the whole, Darcy was impressed. There were few improvements that were required to the land itself; the steward had done a good job running the estate without a master for support. Darcy said as much to Bingley as they were waiting for Miss Bingley to join them in the drawing room before heading to Lucas Lodge for the evening.
"Yes, I agree. I should have been far more concerned should you have found a long list of problems, but I am content that this place shall teach me what I need to know without overwhelming me." At that moment the door opened and Bingley turned to greet his sister, "Ah, Caroline, are you ready? We should have left twenty minutes ago."
"I cannot understand why you accepted such an invitation, Charles. Truly, what were you thinking? The man may well have a title but he is a knight who used to own a shop in Meryton. It is insupportable to lower ourselves to such society."
Darcy could barely tolerate the hypocrisy of such a statement; how quickly Miss Bingley forgot her own family's origins in trade. He turned away before he said something he knew he would regret and took up a position by the window. As he stood gazing out into the darkness, Bingley was effervescing with nervous energy whilst he ensured the party were ready to leave. It was clear to Darcy than his friend was impatient to be in company with Miss Bennet once more; they had been in company five times since they had met, which was longer than Bingley's typical infatuations.
Darcy had noticed how, on those occasions, Mrs Bennet would often try to supplant the eldest Miss Bennet with Miss Mary, but the pair always appeared to drift back towards each other. Sometimes with the assistance of neighbours who hampered Mrs Bennet's scheming whenever they could. To Darcy, to risk the ire of her step-mother in such a way showed a real affection on the part of Miss Bennet, which he hoped his friend would treat gently when he inevitably got bored with his latest angel. With his sisters offering only censure and displeasure when describing the neighbourhood and its inhabitants, Darcy knew that Bingley's interest was likely to fade. Such opposition could not easily be withstood.
Darcy himself, having had little opportunity for conversing with Miss Elizabeth since the evening of the assembly, was scarcely less eager to arrive at Lucas Lodge in good time.
More than anything he was looking forward to hearing her sharp and insightful discourse. Darcy was not sure why it matter so much to him that she had more to her conversational repertoire than critiquing love poems and championing women's education, but it did. Possibly, he mused, it had more to do with his need to know that intelligent women could be found and when he finally decided to take a wife that he need not be stuck with wearisome chatter about the weather and lace for the remainder of his days.
When Darcy walked in through the front door at Lucas Lodge he was greeted emphatically by Sir William and Lady Lucas. It was clear to Darcy that the couple were well matched, both sharing a decided enthusiasm for entertaining.
Before Darcy had reached the refreshment table he noticed Bingley darting away in, what he presumed to be, the direction of the eldest Miss Bennet. As Darcy began his examination of those in attendance his attention was pulled to the far side of the room by the sound of warm laughter. He had heard Miss Elizabeth's laugh a handful of times before, each time the honesty of it surprised him though he knew it should not. She was the only woman of his acquaintance he could imagine having no hesitation in laughing so fully in mixed company. Miss Elizabeth cared not to conceal her thoughts and opinions, why would she treat her merriment any differently.
Over the course of the first half of the evening Darcy found himself attending to any exchange the second Miss Bennet was a part of, even to the detriment of his own conversational partners. Miss Bingley grew quite frustrated with him at one point, though he failed to notice. Following a lively performance by Miss Elizabeth on the pianoforte, which had left them on opposite sides of the room, he decided to take the opportunity provided, in the form of a clear line of sight, to admire her.
As he did, Mrs Bennet ushered Miss Mary towards the bench seat in front of the pianoforte and almost dragged Bingley with her as she past him, insisting he was required to turn the pages for her dear daughter. This display of uncouth behaviour was witnessed by almost everyone in the room, though nobody saw fit to rescue the poor gentleman.
Darcy, one of the few who was not attending to the actions of Mrs Bennet, was approached by her husband. Darcy did his best to supress a blush which threatened to cover his cheeks for having been caught fanaticising about an innocent young lady by her own father. He would have succeeded in his concealment had it not been for the rasp in his voice when he greeted the older gentleman.
"Am I correct," Mr Bennet began, "in believing the gossip that tells me you are one of the Darcy's of Pemberley in Derbyshire? I will confess to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself of course, that I was not fully paying attention during our introduction the other week." Mr Bennet lied, doing his best to hide his interest and make the question seem unimportant.
Darcy, uncomfortable with the man's sudden appearance hesitated before replying, "Yes, they have that right about me at least."
"It has been a long while since I saw the estate last, but I remember your parents having excellent taste. I still think about your library sometimes," Mr Bennet, who was attempting to give the gentleman a chance to admit knowledge of the past relationship, sounded almost wistful to Darcy, "I can't imagine it has changed much over the years."
Darcy found himself instantly relaxing, despite his usual reserve, into the tête-à-tête once he had a topic before him which he was both knowledgeable and passionate about. "If I am to keep a secret of yours, you may keep one of mine. I still have yet to move into the master suite at Pemberley for the room I took when I returned from Cambridge is half the distance from the library. It is far more convenient late in the evening."
"I cannot fault your logic, seeing as I had a second staircase put into Longbourn to easy my travels from my book room to my bed about a decade ago. Though what you say implies your honoured father is no longer alive, my sympathies. He was a good man and a fine chess player."
"That he was, I thank you." Darcy, now suddenly feeling awkward, did not know what else to say, he had not had to accept condolences for so long he was out of practice.
Bennet felt a mixture of emotions at this confirmation. Predominantly though, he felt relief. Relief that if this Mr Darcy did not remember the events of eighteen years ago, there was one less person to inform him. This also sparked shame, for George Darcy had been a dear friend to him at one time and to feel relieved at news of his passing showed him to be more heartless than he had realised.
"Did he ever teach you to play?"
"Yes, though I rarely play now." Darcy quickly fell into his default position of saying as little as possible when in an uncomfortable social situation.
"Does your cheerful companion not have a set?" Thomas Bennet was unsure why he was pursuing a conversation with Mr Darcy. He had satisfied himself that if Mr Darcy knew anything he had given the man plenty of opportunity to say something, and therefore he currently posed no risk to his family. But it had been so long since he had spoken to anyone connected in some way to the life he had before his beloved wife passed; he rarely even corresponded with the Gardiners, he simply permitted Jane and Lizzy to do so.
"Bingley is a terrible opponent, he moves half the pieces incorrectly, and the best matched opposition I can find is in the army and not reliably available."
Mr Bennet smiled at that, "Well I should remember to only play Mr Bingley when I am in need of some comedic relief." After a brief lull of silence between the two men, the shame Mr Bennet was feeling led him to ask, "And your mother? I must confess to owing Lady Anne a long overdue apology. For a couple of years after my own loss she persisted in her efforts to keep in touch. I even found flowers from her in the churchyard once or twice. I was not of a mind to hear from her though, I'm afraid. I shut them all out."
Darcy could do nought but stare at the man. It took him some moments to gather himself before he could reply, for it had been even longer since he discussed his mother's passing with anyone. "Your apology will, unfortunately, have to wait a little longer. My mother preceded my father by a good many years. She passed a month after my sister, Georgiana was born, some fifteen years ago now."
Bennet did not know how to respond to that news. It clearly explained why the letters and flowers had stopped, but it had never crossed his mind as a possibility. How he now wished he could have been there to support old Darcy through the same grief he himself had suffered. The son must have seen the grieved look come onto his face for he quickly added, "My Father poured himself, and all the affection he could no longer show my mother, into caring for my sister. Georgie has my mother's eyes, I think he always felt closer to her when he spent time in the nursery looking upon her."
Bennet nodded, he understood perfectly. "It is the same when I look at my Lizzy." After a brief pause he added, "This shall help date my last seeing Pemberley; your local physician at the time, a Mr Forrest, or Woods, oh I cannot remember."
"Woodrow?" Darcy supplied.
"Ah, yes, that it the fellow. Woodrow. Well he confirmed my Amelia's being with child that summer during our stay. The babe turned out to be my Elizabeth, so it must have been the July of ninety-one."
Mr Woodrow had only retired the winter before and moved to be near his daughter and grandchildren in Gloucestershire. He was a sensible man, not prone to follow the changing fashions and fads of prescribed medicines but based his advice on experience, education and hygiene.
"I imagine the summer months at Pemberley were wasted on a man who enjoys a library as much as I understand you to do."
"Aye that they were. Would I much rather have stayed when it was horrid out. But my wife and your mother did very much enjoy tiring out you and Jane in the gardens. Apparently, master Fitzwilliam, you taught my Jane to crawl. Bloody nuisance that turned out to be when we got home." Bennet immediately regretted opening up further, he should be walking away before the man asked any questions he was unwilling to answer.
Darcy could not supress the barking laughter that erupted from him at that. He remembered doing just that as a small boy. Only six or seven years old, he had lifted and placed the limbs of a babe visiting Pemberley to mimic crawling and then proceeded to show them how it was done. Much to the annoyance of his nurse and the maids for he got himself covered in grass stains. 'What a coincidence that it turns out to be Miss Bennet'.
Darcy felt eyes on him and immediately became self-conscious. Raising his gaze he met the puzzled face of Miss Elizabeth from across the room. His laughter must have been louder than he realised. Darcy held her in a look that lasted longer than strictly proper, but as happens with a changeable landscape, Miss Elizabeth's ever changing eyes drew him in. From a distance, in the dim candlelight, they appeared darker than they had earlier in the evening and for a moment, just before she severed their connection, they danced.
As the conversation wound down, Bennet realised that Mr Darcy was truly unaware of the closer connection shared between their two families. It was not unsurprising as he had only been a boy when the split occurred and would not have been included in any drawing room discussions on the topic at the time. Bennet was thankful for that. He was not comfortable with the idea of facing his past and answering for the decisions he made whilst suffering inexpressible anguish. He knew that his eldest daughters would most likely have benefited from a relationship with their maternal family, but too much water had passed under the bridge in the intervening years and he was not a man to go out of his way to do something if there was an easier solution.
As Mr Bennet walked away he contemplated asking Mr Darcy not to mention their discussion to his daughters, but chose not to. He did not want to raise unnecessary questions; and in reality, what was the chance that such a topic would come up in polite conversation anyway?
From her location near the fire place Elizabeth had watched in disbelief as her father engaged the disagreeable Mr Darcy in conversation. She was flummoxed when she heard the younger gentleman laugh, she did not think a man so determined to be displeased could laugh. Lizzy was thoroughly confused; she could not make him out. As they regarded each other from opposing corners of the room, Lizzy thought to herself that he appeared to be sizing up an opponent, like she used to watch the neighbourhood boys do on a Sunday afternoon before they started scrapping with one another. 'So he wishes to find weaknesses and faults in me, he shall have no shortage to choose from I am sure'. In fact, Elizabeth saw this more of a challenge for herself than the gentleman in question. She so enjoyed studying characters and Mr Darcy presented quite the conundrum.