****The next two chapters were an absolute brat in the writing process. I wrote them weeks ago, but I became stuck because in my head, I see everything. But when it's time to put it to paper…some scenes are more powerful if they happen "off stage," Confession, I dislike writing dinner after dinner etc. and when I go back to the original, you find that Austen did the same. She summarized often the polite society parts and focused in on the impactful parts. So let me know after you read these two chapters if you understand why I was stuck in "skipping" the dinner part and if this works for you. If you truly want the dinner scene written out, I can do that, and then adjust the post-argument scene. But I dearly love a bit of dramatic irony and the reader being just as confused as poor Mary and Kitty. Also the members of Janeside (FB group) have challenged me to work in Happy Days character names as Easter eggs! I accepted the challenge ;) - EAW***
An invitation to dine at Netherfield Park arrived early Monday morning to send the entire Bennet family into excitement. Unfortunately, it was also the only time Elizabeth and Jane saw their preferred gentlemen for they brought the invitation themselves.
"You are so kind, Mr. Bingley, to think of us. I hope we are not putting your dear sister out," Mrs. Bennet opined, gently pointing out that Miss Bingley had not ridden in the carriage with the gentlemen.
"Of course not, I mean, my sister is at home as we speak making sure the preparations are in place. She dispatched us as her errand boys," he said, offering Jane all of his lopsided smiles.
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. "Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked, a question with very little suspicion behind it.
Elizabeth's cheeks burned as she certainly heard more in his question than any of the others could fathom. And decided to make him blush in return.
"Oui!"
Mr. Darcy sputtered a cough, then laughed, and Mr. Bingley laughed along with his friend, followed by Jane and Mrs. Bennet, though they had no idea what was so funny. Elizabeth stood with her hands clasped behind her back, shifting her weight between the balls of each foot like a cat about to pounce upon its prey.
"I say, my clever one, to answer Mr. Darcy in French!" Mrs. Bennet said as a false compliment, then patted her eyes with her handkerchief from the laughter.
The gentlemen visited for half an hour and as Jane sat with her Mr. Bingley by the fireside, Elizabeth led Mr. Darcy over to an area where she had been working on a letter to her aunt. She had amended the query to beseech her Aunt Gardiner to allow her to visit London as quickly as possible.
"You are never one to be underestimated," he began, in a normal tone of voice before dropping to a whisper, "my Elizabeth."
The corners of her lips lifted and she offered him a half-smile. "I would thank you for your industrious instruction, sir, if I had not already shared in your wisdom," she said, causing his eyes to widen. At that, she offered him a full smile and laughed, attracting the attention of Mr. Bingley and Jane from across the room. But when they saw Lizzy laughing and Mr. Darcy's face red, they misunderstood the situation entirely to be one of censorious teasing, when it was far from such a mundane matter.
"And am I to receive the benefit of your wisdom, Madam?" he dared to ask, parting his lips every so slightly that she could spy the tip of his tongue. The tiny gesture took her breath away, and she inhaled deeply to steady herself, reminded of her goal.
"Yes, though I believe I recalled at some time or other Miss Bingley speaks French," Elizabeth considered and Mr. Darcy coughed.
"Not well," he added, and she ignored it, for it was too late to rewrite her letter to him.
"I am certain she does not read Latin," she said, offering her letter to Mr. Darcy's hand. He accepted and they changed the subject to their affections, and when they had begun, looping back to the real matter at hand, which was a letter to their respective aunts. Although Mr. Darcy had taunted her to give him pen and paper that he might write to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, there was not time before Mrs. Bennet interrupted their visit. Elizabeth managed to hastily seal and wax the letter to her aunt, that held the added request of allowing her to visit London as early as possible.
"I'm afraid gentlemen, you cannot visit long today, though we happily accept your invitation for dinner, Mr. Bingley. The girls have another visit with the modiste, as Jane has more to add to her trousseau,"
Mr. Darcy picked up on only Jane's name mentioned and he looked at Elizabeth. She sighed and gave a small, barely perceptible nod. But he did not press further. Mrs. Bennet watched them all so that the gentlemen could only offer the politest of adieus. When Mr. Darcy bowed and placed his hand over his heart, directly where the letter from Elizabeth rested in his coat's inside pocket, the sentiment was enough for her.
After the two suitors left, Mr. Bennet feigned as though he did not wish to accept the invitation. However Mrs. Bennet disabused him of such a notion before the carriage had been called for the shopping trip.
The issue of the trousseau was an argument Elizabeth did not wish to rehearse in front of the gentlemen, and she felt grateful her mother possessed some sense that she had ushered the men out quickly. As it was, before luncheon, Elizabeth was again riding in the carriage with her mother and Jane, her mother going on and on about Jane's wedding.
"Mama, please," Jane took pity on Elizabeth sitting and staring out the window. "I wish to have a double wedding with Lizzy and Mr. Darcy. So does Charles, as Mr. Darcy is his closest friend."
Mrs. Bennet sniffled in disappointment as she always did when the subject of a double wedding arose. She was categorically against it. "But be reasonable, Jane, dear. Mr. Darcy and Lizzy are not so far along as you and Mr. Bingley. Surely you do not intend to hold your wedding in 1813!"
The girls laughed at their mother's hysterics, as there was not going to be such a delay as three months, but it was true that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were a week behind in banns being read.
Just as before, Mrs. Sitchwort awaited Elizabeth's custom first, which was meager. The hunter-green gown she had commissioned was ready, and fit perfectly. Unfortunately, she lacked the funds to order more, as her mother would not allow for any spending until her engagement to Mr. Darcy was announced properly. Instead, Elizabeth had come along for her other aim, which was to use her remaining money to send her letter to her aunt by Express.
After leaving the modiste, and carefully walking across the way to the inn, she finished her business and had just resolved to walk home when she spied a familiar rider dismount. Forgetting herself a bit, Lizzy rushed back across the street to meet Mr. Darcy, side-stepping the myriad of puddles filling the lane. Slightly out of breath, she met her beau before he found some contrived reason to walk into the modiste.
"Miss Elizabeth," he greeted, bowing low.
"How lucky that we see each other again, Mr. Darcy, and then tonight, we dine," Elizabeth commented, finding herself less inclined to converse with Mr. Darcy, but their environment would not allow for the activity she preferred. "I do not see Mr. Bingley?" she thought for sure, by now, the man had found a mount.
Unfortunately, as Mr. Bingley did not possess a horse that he wished to ride, Mr. Darcy had made his errands on his own. He did not keep Elizabeth's company for long outside of the shop, though more than a few of her neighbors stopped to gawk at the continued familiarity between Mr. Darcy and Miss Eliza, yet there had been no reading of the banns the day before. It was a curious matter, indeed!
He bent over her hand and kissed the top of it just above where her glove met her wrist. The sensation thrilled them both, and they spent the better part of a few moments merely gazing into each other's eyes. Another passerby approached, this time much closer than the previous ones who had tried to catch pieces of their conversation. For all Meryton knew this might be the very moment that Mr. Darcy asked Miss Elizabeth to marry him! Mr. Darcy seemed to come out of the stupor and began to speak about Mr. Bingley's plight.
"The man spends the better part of the day sulking. And he flies into a rage at the slightest aggravation. I thought perhaps his behavior might be the remnants of suppressed anger against me," Mr. Darcy began, but Elizabeth shook her head in disagreement, enticing him to join her as they began to walk up and down the clapboards as though any acquaintance might. "But he equally complains of headaches nearly every afternoon."
"No, Mr. Bingley was all that was amiable before his accident. But I have seen this happen. My father once took a nasty spill and it took many weeks before his temperament found adjustment. Perhaps finding him another horse might help? I cannot imagine he is without jealousy that you still hold your autonomy," Elizabeth hypothesized and to her surprise, her future husband agreed with her!
He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as he tried to think. "I have been such a fool—" he began, and Elizabeth finished for him.
"A fool in love," she said and they both shared a laugh. He licked his lips and she licked hers, but there was not to be a kiss this afternoon.
Elizabeth began to explain to him about a farm to the west of the village, where most of the families procured their best bred horses. "It will not be a steed so fancy as you might be used too, but if Mr. Bingley is to find a ride worthy of his endeavors here in Hertfordshire, the Baxters are by far your best place to search."
"And how far away is this farm?" he asked, trying to calculate exactly how long he would have to be separated from his dear Elizabeth.
"Oh, send them a message today and you should hear back soon. Mr. Lee at the White Swan can help you with the direction. If you leave tomorrow morning with the carriage, I expect you will be back before nightfall." She scrunched up her nose at the noon sun.
"I thought you said the farm is not far?" he asked, trying to follow Elizabeth's gaze, but all that was above them was clouds before they turned around to walk back towards the modiste.
"Perhaps eight miles. The length of time will be Mr. Baxter's insistence that the 'horse chooses the rider,'" Elizabeth mimicked Old Mr. Baxter's long drawl to Mr. Darcy's amusement.
"And you say the neighborhood trusts this man?" Mr. Darcy gently questioned Elizabeth's wisdom. She explained to him how Mr. Larson Baxter was a bonafide war veteran and left America by fighting for the British.
"He worked in the stables for a wealthy man in Virginia but earned his freedom by caring for the cavalry's finest. Did you not admire the horses Colonel Forster acquisitioned for his command?" she asked, reminding Mr. Darcy of the militia encamped the previous year, without mentioning the scoundrel, Lieutenant Wickham. "Baxter bred."
Mr. Darcy nodded. "Yes, the horses of the militia were particularly well-bred, in my limited observations. You sound as though you have experience with horses?" he asked and to his surprise, Elizabeth winked at him.
"Rest assured that I can ride, I simply choose not to." She shrugged. "The horse that chose me died some years ago and I saw no reason for the expense," she said, her voice dropping lower as she didn't wish to explain that it was actually her mother who felt the money might be better spent towards the girls' fripperies instead of their thoroughbreds. As Elizabeth most often rode the horse reserved for Jane when she traveled with her father to visit the tenants, there was no impediment for Elizabeth. Besides, she preferred walking over the sores a saddle gave one's posterior.
"I shall have to see about visiting Mr. Baxter and his horses. Would you like me to post the letter to your aunt?" he asked, changing the subject and Elizabeth giggled.
"I'm afraid you discovered the only reason I came with my mother and sister," she said, reminding him that she had to cross the street from the inn to where they stood now, back in front of the modiste. He followed the point of her finger, then rose up to gently grasp her hand and bow over it to fare adieu.
"I wish you would have allowed me, I would have sent it Express," he said, and Elizabeth scowled.
"What happened to not underestimating me?" she asked, as she waved him off, leaving him to wonder just how he had misspoke now. But he watched his Lizzy happily walk off, and then realized she would walk the whole way home. If he hurried with his business at the inn, he could still ride and catch her to escort her home at least part of the way.