"I do not understand why Mr. Bennet insisted that the younger girls stay home tonight," Mrs. Bennet exclaimed as the Bennet carriage rolled toward Netherfield.
"Nor do I, Mother," Elizabeth said calmly, "but I am certain he has his reasons."
Privately, she was overjoyed that her father had chosen to keep Lydia and Kitty home. Her two younger sisters were invariably loud and often vulgar, and she was looking forward to dinner with Bingley and his houseguests without worrying about what her younger sisters would say and do.
"I am certain he does have his reasons," Mrs. Bennet said peevishly, "though I cannot pretend to understand them. But then I never could! Your father is a bewildering sort of man."
Mrs. Bennet sighed deeply, but moments later her face brightened and she exclaimed, "Oh Jane, to think that within the fortnight you will be mistress of Netherfield! Not that I approve of your decision to marry in such haste, but no one listens to me! I fear your wedding breakfast will be quite meager."
"I am certain you will provide a lovely meal, Mother," Jane returned placidly, glancing out the window of the carriage at the frozen countryside. They would arrive at Netherfield soon.
"But you have only given me a little more than week to prepare," Mrs. Bennet fretted. "A week! That is not nearly enough time!"
"You can make Mary's wedding breakfast splendid, Mother," Elizabeth pointed out gently.
"Oh yes, we can!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, clapping her hands with delight. "Mary, perhaps we can rent a pineapple! That would make your wedding breakfast especially remarkable."
Mary looked startled and said, "That is a kind thought, Mother, but I think that Lady Catherine would prefer a less ostentatious celebration. Mr. Collins says that our patroness wishes for the distinction of rank to be observed."
"Well, it is not likely that she will be at the wedding breakfast, is it?" her mother said reasonably. "Nor do I see why she should have any say in how we celebrate your marriage. I know Lady Catherine is the daughter of an earl, but you are the daughter of a gentleman, and your husband is heir to Longbourn. Oh my dear Jane and Mary, I declare I can hardly sleep at night for joy! Two daughters well married! I have never been so happy!"
Elizabeth exchanged smiles with her two sisters at her mother's enthusiasm and looked out the window as they made the turn into the carriage way. On an ordinary day, she would find her mother's fluttering annoying, but this was no ordinary day. Yesterday the jury at the inquest had ruled that Wickham's death was accidental, and both she and Mr. Darcy were safe from any further danger or disgrace. She had slept well and long last night, and she had woken with a most welcome lightness of spirit. Even the bruises on her shoulders were fading.
There was more to think upon, of course; she had always walked freely on Longbourn land and was not certain she would regain her confidence in doing so, but for now she could only rejoice in what they had gained.
"Lizzy, we are here," Jane said, touching her on the shoulder.
/
Fitzwilliam Darcy watched in awe as Anne zig zagged her black draught across the board, removing three of his white pieces in the process. When she was finally finished decimating his offensive strategy, she leaned back in her chair and bestowed a smug smile upon him.
He looked back, shook his head dramatically, and said, "I resign. Again."
Georgiana, who was curled up on a chair nearby, chuckled and said, "Dear cousin, where did you learn to be such an excellent draughts player?"
"Mrs. Jenkinson taught me, and we often play together," Anne explained. "She is even better than I am, though I beat her occasionally. More often, our games end in a draw."
Darcy gazed down ruefully at the board and said, "I will count it a great success if I ever succeed in playing you to a draw, Anne."
Anne laughed and Darcy looked at her in wonder; it was hard to believe that this cheerful woman was the same lady who sat miserably swathed in shawls at Rosings year after year. It was a great pity that no one had intervened earlier in Anne's life; it was obvious that she was far happier out from under her mother's autocratic thumb.
"Richard, would you care to play a game?" Darcy suggested, unexcited at the prospect of being drubbed again by his female cousin.
"No, no, I have little hope of prevailing against Anne if you cannot," his cousin answered. "I am far more familiar with card games than draughts and chess."
Outside the drawing room came the sound of Bingley's butler, followed by the murmur of multiple feminine voices. Both Darcy and Bingley stood up just as the door opened to reveal Mrs. Bennet and her three eldest daughters.
Bingley surged forward, his face beaming, as Jane, dressed becomingly in a simple yellow muslin gown, stepped forward and held out her hands. Bingley reached out and took her gloved hands in his own, and the couple smiled adoringly at one another.
Darcy in turn had eyes only for Elizabeth. She was dressed in a sober dark green gown, which covered her arms and shoulders thoroughly, but her expression was joyful, and he felt a deep sense of relief that she seemed in excellent spirits.
Anne and Georgiana looked on with open curiosity, fascinated at the sight of Darcy staring openly at Miss Elizabeth Bennet. After a moment had gone by, Anne stepped forward and said, "Cousin, will you not introduce Georgiana, Richard, and me to our guests?"
"Of course, my apologies," he said quickly. "Anne, Richard, Georgiana, may I please introduce Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, who is engaged to Bingley, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Mary. Ladies, my cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh, my sister, Miss Darcy, and Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of the Regulars."
The ladies curtseyed to one another, and Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, "Oh, Miss de Bourgh, it is truly an honor to meet you! I am not certain if you heard, but my Mary will be wed to Mr. Collins, who serves as Lady Catherine's rector in Hunsford."
Anne smiled graciously at Mary and said, "I did hear of your engagement to Mr. Collins, Miss Mary. Many congratulations!"
"Thank you, Miss de Bourgh," Mary returned softly. "I am looking forward very much to serving the parish in Hunsford."
"Mother," Jane said from Bingley's side, "Charles has asked the housekeeper to show me around Netherfield so I have a better understanding of the household as I consider its management. Would you be willing to accompany me so that you can provide your expertise and insight?"
"Oh, of course, my dear Jane, of course! It was wonderful meeting you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Miss Darcy, Miss de Bourgh. Oh, Colonel, I do hope you will be able to meet my younger daughters soon; they do love a man in a red coat. I am coming, Jane, I am coming!"
Mrs. Bennet and her eldest daughter, accompanied by Bingley, left the drawing room in a flurry, leaving quiet in their wake. Before the silence could grow awkward, Elizabeth said, "I hope you are enjoying your time here in Netherfield, Miss de Bourgh?"
"I am indeed," Anne returned. "It is my first visit to Hertfordshire, and it seems a pleasant area. Miss Mary, I think you will find that Kent is similar to Hertfordshire in its geography, though Kent has a warmer climate. But please, do sit down!"
"I have heard that the mansion and grounds of Rosings are magnificent," Mary continued timidly as she took her place on a pale blue couch near the fire.
"I am sure you have," Anne said with a chuckle, "since my mother is quite passionate on the subject. She is right, of course; Rosings is a remarkable place, though no more so than Pemberley. What do you think, Darcy? Is Rosings as lovely as Pemberley?"
Darcy laughed at this and shook his head reprovingly. "My dear Anne, that is a dangerous question to ask a Darcy. You must know that for me and Georgiana, Pemberley is the most wonderful place in all of England."
"Because it is home," Georgiana piped in shyly.
"Well, as for me, I have had quite enough of home," Anne said briskly, then continued hastily, "I am certain you will like the parsonage very much, Miss Mary. Lady Catherine has worked at making it a comfortable house for the rector of Hunsford. But I have been at Rosings almost all of my life, and I am to travel to London to spend time with Lord and Lady Matlock. I look forward to a most delightful time with my female cousins."
"And what of your male cousins?" Richard asked with a comical droop of his lips.
"Why, I believe I might enjoy spending time with my male cousins as well," Anne returned, her pale lips quirking up in amusement. "If nothing else, I look to both you and Darcy to protect me from impecunious gentlemen desirous of wedding me for my fortune."
This provoked startled looks from Elizabeth and Mary, and the latter said, "Oh, I understood that..."
She trailed away, flushing miserably with embarrassment, and Anne said quickly, "I am well aware that my mother, and by extension, Mr. Collins, are convinced that Darcy and I will make a match of it, but thankfully the two of us have come to a definite conclusion in the last few days; we do not suit and will not wed."
Elizabeth, shocked, turned her gaze on Darcy only to find that he was looking directly at her. She felt herself blush rosily under his intent gaze, but she managed to say, with admirable lightness of tone, "Congratulations, Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh, on not being engaged."
This provoked a communal laugh from the accompanying group. Georgiana, who had noted the blush on the lady's face and the loving smile on the countenance of her brother, was hard put to suppress a chortle of happiness.
"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy responded with a comical bow.
"Do either of you play draughts?" Anne asked of their new guests.
"Elizabeth plays well," Mary said.
"Please do join me then, Miss Elizabeth," Anne ordered, much pleased with this initial introduction to the young woman. The girl was beautiful, but more than that, she was a cheerful and gifted conversationalist. Darcy would be blessed to win a friendly, charming wife to offset his own silent nature.
/
"We cannot both wear pink to Jane's wedding, Kitty," Lydia declared irritably, "and you know I look better in pink than you do."
"You do not!" Kitty snapped back shrilly. "It is not fair that you always get to choose. I want to wear my own pink gown, and I look as good in pink as you do. Why do you not wear your yellow dress?"
"You know I despise that dress!" Lydia insisted. "I..."
"Kitty, Lydia?" Mr. Bennet interrupted from the door of the drawing room where he had been standing for a full minute without being noticed.
Both girls looked up in astonishment; it was rare indeed that their father left his library in the evening, especially when Elizabeth and Jane were not in the house.
"Yes, Father?" Kitty asked.
Mr. Bennet walked into the room and took a stand in front of his two daughters, his hands locked behind his back. He considered Lydia and Kitty for a full minute, which caused Lydia to toss her head and say, "Papa, what is it? Kitty and I are talking about our dresses for Jane's wedding!"
"You are arguing about your dresses, not talking," her father said. "In any case, I have something of far more import to discuss with you than finery."
Both girls sat up straighter, surprised at his firm tone and the serious expression on his face.
Satisfied that he had their attention, he said, "I have realized in these past days that I have been far too careless about your well-being. This man Wickham, who seemed a decent gentleman, was in fact a rogue who attempted to murder Mr. Darcy. I am concerned that some of the other officers may also be ungodly, licentious men, and thus I will no longer permit you girls to wander freely in Meryton while the militia regiment is in residence there, nor will you be attending parties with the officers unless I am there to watch over you."
Lydia and Kitty stared at him in wonder for a full ten seconds before Lydia squealed in outrage and cried out, "You cannot be serious, Father! I still cannot believe Mr. Wickham was truly a bad man; it was probably all Mr. Darcy's fault that he was stabbed and poor Mr. Wickham killed! As for the other officers, they are kind, handsome gentlemen. We must find husbands – Mama says so – and the officers are the best prospects we have seen in many years! We will see the officers, we will! I do not care what you say!"
Mr. Bennet took a deep breath and found himself, oddly enough, thinking back to his own boyhood. At the tender age of eight, he had convinced his father to give him a young foxhound. The puppy, a female he named Ruby, had grown quickly, and her young owner had found it difficult to train the animal because of her energy and strength. Even now, so many years later, Mr. Bennet remembered that he had been forced to literally dig in his heels to keep his foxhound from dragging him away. In the end, he had prevailed in training Ruby, and she became an excellent companion and later a mother to several litters of fine pups.
Now, his own youngest daughter was an unruly beast, used to getting her own way because she knew from experience that Mr. Bennet was too indolent to stand against her.
But not this time. Not with the memory of Elizabeth's near disaster a week before. No, he would stand firm and be the father his daughters needed him to be.
He stared down at his youngest, his lips thin with disgust, and metaphorically dug his heels into the ground. "Lydia, go to your bedchamber immediately. You will not speak to me in that disrespectful way."
Lydia hopped to her feet and took an angry step forward. She was the tallest of the Bennet daughters, and the top of her head came to his nose. She was also well built, bordering on plump, and her face was set in peevish fury. "You cannot tell me what to do! All you ever do is sit in your library and read your books; you have no right to keep us from our pleasures!"
Bennet felt a strong inclination to slap his youngest, but, restraining himself with difficult, he walked back to the drawing room door and called out to the butler who appeared within seconds.
"Hill, Miss Lydia is in need of some peace and quiet in her room. Call Theodore and Cecil to help me escort her to her bedchamber."
The resulting scene was not a beautiful one, but Bennet, enflamed as much by anger as determination, helped two of his male servants to drag Lydia into her bedchamber, push her onto her bed, retreat, and lock the door behind him. He then straightened his clothing and marched back down the stairs into the drawing room where Kitty was rooted in place, her eyes wide.
"Do you wish to say anything, Kitty?" he inquired sarcastically.
"No, Papa," Kitty answered meekly.