Letter from Mrs. Bennet to Miss Jane Bennet
April 9th, 1812
My dear Jane,
Oh Jane, I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing! You are engaged to be married, and to Mr. Bingley of Netherfield Hall! I could not be more proud of you. After all that time apart this winter, you succeeded in bringing him up to scratch! He and your father met only this morning and while I do not know the details, Mr. Bennet assures me that Mr. Bingley plans to be very generous with the marriage settlements.
Now Jane, you know how eager I am that you and Mr. Bingley marry as soon as possible. On the other hand, if Lizzy and Mary and Kitty return from Rockhill in the near future, they will be taken away from your new cousins. Philip is an earl, Jane! Just think if Mary or Kitty or Elizabeth were able to snag an earl! Lydia should be there as she has the most chance of enticing him. She is so lively and beautiful. But the dear girl absolutely refuses to leave Longbourn while the regiment is in Meryton. Perhaps once they remove to Brighton, she will be willing to go to Rockhill.
All this is to say that if Mr. Bingley can obtain a special license and you wish to marry in Rockhill, I would be well pleased. If not, perhaps a common license would do and you could marry in London? At all costs, the other girls must stay in with our new relations!
My dear firstborn daughter, I am so proud of you!
Mrs. Bingley, how well it sounds!
With love, your ecstatic mother
Elizabeth finished the letter her mother had sent Jane and looked up, her mouth pursed with disapproval.
"I am sorry, Jane," she said quietly to her sister, who was curled up on the shabby window seat in her bedchamber. "Mamma is very single minded where our potential marriages are concerned."
Jane was looking out the window, through which she could observe the somewhat derelict east wing of Rockhill Hall.
"She means well, I suppose," the eldest Miss Bennet said quietly. "Does that mitigate the offense of ordering me to marry away from my beloved home?"
Elizabeth sighed, walked over to sit down next to her dearest sister, and said, "No, Jane, it does not. Good intentions do not sweep away the reality that you should be able to marry in Hertfordshire, nor am I pleased with our mother's determination to marry one of us off to Cousin Philip."
Jane frowned at this. "Do you not like him, Lizzy?"
"I like him very much, Jane, but liking does not mean I would ever wish to marry him."
"Why not?" Jane inquired. "Not that I wish to push you toward Cousin Philip like our mother does, I am merely curious. You do seem to have at least some things in common. You both enjoy music, after all."
Elizabeth laughed and placed an affectionate hand on her sister's arm. "That is exactly why I doubt we will ever suit," she declared. "The Earl does not merely enjoy music, he loves to play. I am a dabbler on the pianoforte compared to him. While I do not pretend to know what our cousin wants or needs, I suspect that he would do well with a wife who not only supports his passion for playing, but shares some of that passion."
Jane nodded thoughtfully and agreed, "That is wise, Lizzy."
"But let us turn to your upcoming wedding, Jane," her sister insisted. "Do you wish to be married in our church at Meryton? If so, you and Mr. Bingley can return to Hertfordshire and be married by common license."
"And have Mother remonstrating with me? No, thank you. Mr. Bingley and I will be married quietly in London. I hope you will be willing to attend me there, and of course you can return to Longbourn from there if you like. You are not a prisoner here."
Elizabeth chuckled and said, "Of course I am not, but the truth is that I am enjoying myself very much and I believe Kitty and Mary are benefiting from our time here."
"Lizzy?" Jane asked after a moment's pause.
"Yes?"
"Do you think that perhaps Mr. Bingley and I will not be happy at Netherfield because it is so close to Longbourn?"
Elizabeth gazed at her gentle sister in genuine astonishment.
"Yes," she said finally. "I think that you and Mr. Bingley may well find that more distance from Mother will improve your relationship with her. I am startled to hear you voice such a thing."
Jane stood up and shook out her skirts. "I have learned much in these last months, Lizzy. Miss Bingley was, I thought, my friend when in fact she was a shrewish harridan. Our mother may have the very best of intentions, but it is clear that her behavior, plus our father's indolence regarding the unruly antics of Kitty and Lydia, were partially the reason why Mr. Darcy urged Mr. Bingley to leave Hertfordshire. I hope that I will still be a kind and gracious Christian, but I will not be quite so naïve in the future."
"I am quite certain you will always be my gentle, tender-hearted Jane, but I am thankful you will not be so easily hoodwinked again by those who truly do not have your best intentions at heart."
/
Elizabeth rose to her tiptoes and reached as high as her hand would go, only to sink back onto the floor with a huff of irritation. The book she wanted, a new one entitled Self-Control, by Scottish novelist Mary Brunton, had been placed on a shelf beyond her reach. She glanced around in search of a chair, only to start at the sight of Mr. Darcy, who was standing at the open door of the library, gazing at her with his usual intensity.
"May I assist you, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked.
"Yes, please," Elizabeth responded, feeling strangely breathless. "I fear I am not quite tall enough to reach Self-Control."
The master of Pemberly strode over, though he was careful to leave the door wide open, obtained the book with ease, and handed it to Elizabeth, who said, "Thank you very much, sir. I do not generally mind being short, but at moments like these, when an appealing novel is out of reach, I wish that I had inherited some of my sister Lydia's inches."
He grinned and said, "But if you were taller, you would walk even faster than you do now, and how could anyone keep up?"
"An excellent point!" Elizabeth agreed, wandering over to the window to stand in the sun's bright rays. Her eyes were on the book in her hand, and she thus had no idea how beautiful she was, with her chestnut curls glowing in the light, with her slender form wrapped in a primrose muslin morning dress. Darcy found himself gulping loudly enough that she turned toward him, confusion writ large on her face.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Darcy?" she asked, obviously puzzled by his expression.
"Not at all. I will be curious to hear your views on Self-Control. If you like it, my sister will probably enjoy it as well."
"Does your sister truly read novels, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth inquired archly.
"She does," he returned with a chuckle. "Indeed, like you, she is very fond of Gothics."
"What are her favorites?" Elizabeth asked.
Darcy, though mesmerized by the lady's face and form, managed to collect his thoughts sufficiently to say, "She enjoys the works of both Horace Wadpole and Ann Radcliffe, along with…"
The conversation continued apace for some fifteen minutes before Miss Bennet appeared at the door of the library, and Elizabeth, with a smile, departed. Darcy, feeling rather bereft at the loss of the lady's presence, wandered over to the nearest shelf to stare blankly at the books.
He had completely lost his heart to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
/
Meryton, Hertfordshire
"Good evening, gentlemen," the proprietor of the Pig in the Poke said genially as the half dozen officers of the militia clattered into the inn with sighs of pleasure. The spring temperatures were pleasant but the day had been rainy, and all of them were a little wet.
"Good evening, sir!" Lieutenant Denny said cheerfully. "I believe we would all like a taste of your best beer."
Mr. Rowley wiped his hands off with a rag and stepped forward, glancing around at the group of red coats with a thoughtful eye. "I would be glad to serve whoever can pay off his tab, gentlemen. I am afraid that the accounts have risen a bit too high for my blood, and with the militia planning to depart for Brighton soon, I need to make sure you are all paid up."
"Mr. Rowley," Lieutenant Pratt protested, "we are all gentlemen. I assure you that we pay our debts."
George Wickham kept his silence but cursed inwardly. He was in debt at every shop and tavern in Meryton, but he had hoped that the regiment would move to Brighton before anyone called him to account.
"Nonetheless, I must insist," Rowley stated implacably. "You will have to pay up before you are served."
There was a general series of groans and sighs but one-by-one, the red coated officers stepped forward to pay off their debt, some accessing hidden pockets for ready coin. Wickham waited until last, his heart beating uncomfortably. None of the other men had run up much of a tab but while he did not know the exact amount he owed at the Pig and the Poke, it was likely at least six pounds. The waitress, a cheerful redhead named Sarah, had quickly fallen under his charming spell and had not asked for money in many weeks now.
Rowley glanced at a small tick book, and then smiled at the handsome lieutenant and said, "You are all paid up, Mr. Wickham. My apologies for that unpleasant bit of business, sirs, but now, since you have been so kind about it, the first drinks are on the house!"
George Wickham smiled on the outside as he frowned inwardly. How could he be paid up here? He most certainly owed at least five pounds, probably more!
Perhaps Miss Sarah secretly had erased his debt? That was barely possible but it seemed unlikely the girl would have seen the need for such a thing; he certainly did not advertise the fact that he was not plump in the pocket. In addition, she did not seem a particularly bright girl.
It was odd, and while Wickham was reluctant to look a gift horse in the mouth, he felt a stir of genuine unease.
/
Rockhill
The next day
Darcy's shoulders slumped with exhaustion as Phoenix trotted down the recently re-graveled and thusly much improved road. His trips to Rosings were always tiring now, and he looked forward to being able to rest.
But as he approached the Rockhill stables, he saw that they were bustling like a kicked ants' nest. Nearly a half dozen men were up on the roof, nailing new boards up to replace the ones that leaked in the rain. Others still clambered up and down ladders, bearing supplies and waste to and from the workers higher up. Alex Gardiner stood right outside the activity, supervising the repairs. He nodded politely as Darcy moved past, though the young man's avid gaze remained on Phoenix's impressive figure as Darcy trotted into the stable.
With a weary sigh, Darcy reined in his horse and carefully swung himself out of the saddle and onto the hard dirt floor.
"I'll take him, sir," a stable boy said as he reached for the reins, which Darcy handed over gladly.
"Make sure he is rubbed down well," the master of Pemberley ordered, patting the black flank with affection. "He has had a tiring day."
"Yes, sir."
Darcy strode out of the stables and walked toward the house, only to halt at the sight of Miss Elizabeth marching briskly toward him from the path which led toward a small copse behind Rockhill Hall.
"Miss Elizabeth," he said with a small bow as she approached him. "How are you this fine afternoon?"
"Mr. Darcy," the woman replied with her usual glowing smile. "I am well indeed. I have been exploring a small copse of trees behind the east wing, and came across a derelict fish pond. It has only an inch of rain water and piles of dead leaves, but it has a charming aspect. I wonder if my cousin would enjoy a fish pond."
Darcy was aware of an odd emotion trickling through his soul which he realized, a few seconds later, was jealousy. The young earl was reasonably good looking, highly born, owner of a grand estate and a music lover. It would not be surprising if Miss Elizabeth found the young man attractive.
He realized she was looking at him curiously and he forced himself to speak, "A fish pond would be pleasant, Miss Elizabeth, though I confess I know nothing about them. At Pemberley, we have streams and lakes but no artificial fish ponds."
He held out his arm toward her hopefully and she took it readily. He turned to walk toward the gardens behind the estate, desirous of more time in her tantalizing company.
"I have heard many wonderful things about Pemberley, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth commented. "My other uncle Gardiner, the one who lives in London, is married to my aunt Madeline Gardiner. My aunt grew up in Lambton, which is but a few miles from Pemberley, I believe."
"That is so!" Darcy agreed. "I have been in Lambton many times. Do your aunt and uncle visit Derbyshire often, Miss Elizabeth?"
"No, my uncle is a man of trade and his business keeps him in London. There has been talk of my relations traveling to the north someday soon, but there are no firm plans at this point."
"I would be delighted to host them at Pemberley," Darcy said impulsively, and watched his companion's eyes widen in surprise.
"In any case, that is for the future," he added hastily. "I hope you are enjoying your time here in Kent?"
"Yes, very much. Are you enjoying your time here in Kent, Mr. Darcy?"
This was said with an arch look, and he felt himself freeze in confusion. Why would she ask such a thing? Was she referring to his supposed arrogant disdain for those who were not in the top tiers of society?
"Certainly. I have found the company very pleasant indeed," he replied, forcing himself to gaze directly into her eyes. He hoped, oh, how he hoped, that she had some idea of how much she meant to him.
Elizabeth blushed and smiled. "I am glad you enjoy the hours when you are not working, sir. I understand that today you were to Rosings to assist your cousins with the books, and while here you have been assisting my cousin and uncle bringing the estate back into good great. It is very good of you."
He felt his shoulders relax in relief at these generous words and said, "It is my duty."
The girl's forehead crinkled slightly. "Why is it your duty, Mr. Darcy? Pemberley is a vast estate with its own heavy workload. I know we are very grateful for your assistance here, and I am certain that your cousins are thankful for your work at Rosings, but these two estates are hardly your responsibility, are they?"
For a moment, he considered telling her the truth, that he wished to stay at Rockhill to spend time with her, that he wished to marry her. But further thought stayed his tongue. It would be awkward for both of them if he expressed his fascination with her and she responded negatively. At some point, he must speak, of course he must, but not yet, not now.
"My father," he said instead, "was a good man and a diligent teacher. Those of us who oversee estates have a responsibility to those who depend on the estate for their livelihood. Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam are capable individuals, and with a little help from me, will be able to administer Rosings successfully. Mr. Gardiner and Lord Chartham are also intelligent, hard working men; if I can assist them in some small way to fulfill their duties, then I am content."
Elizabeth looked up at him with a smile of definite admiration and said, "That is a truly admirable perspective, Mr. Darcy."
He gazed down at her and said, "Thank you, Miss Elizabeth."
/
/
Author Note: Thanks for reading ... two chapters today!