Chapter 12
Stables
Longbourn
An hour later
"Mr. Darcy and Colonel Forster, who commands the militia regiment, were sensible enough to order the servants to remove the paintings, figurines, and other such items from the dining room and drawing room during the fire," Bennet explained as he led Mr. Gardiner toward the rear section of the stables. A moment later, the two stepped into the tack room, which had been hastily organized to store art and other valuables. "I fear I was so upset over the situation that I was worse than useless."
"You had Fanny and Mary to consider," Gardiner answered in a comforting tone, his eyes appraising the objects piled carefully on tables and floor. "It appears to me that the east wing is structurally lost, though I hope that you will be able to reclaim the silver cutlery, pots, pans, and dishes from the kitchen. And who knows, maybe some other books survived the flames."
Bennet grimaced and said, "I am not optimistic; with so many books in the library, the heat must have been incredible. I only hope that Principia is readable, but I will wait until later to look into the trunk the servants just found. I do not need additional disappointment at this moment."
Mr. Gardiner cast a sidelong glance at his brother, and then decided that unusual situations required unusual questions.
"Do you have the funds to rebuild Longbourn?" he asked bluntly.
Bennet's sorrowful expression was answer enough, but the master of Longbourn said grimly, "I fear I do not. Indeed, we have very little money available at present, and it will be some weeks before the tenants' pay their quarterly rents, and even then – five hundred pounds is a goodly sum, but it is not nearly enough to rebuild the east wing."
Gardiner looked out the window of the tack room toward the destroyed section of the mansion, and asked, "Do you intend to rebuild, then?"
Bennet blew out a breath and said, "Ideally, yes, of course, but it may be financially impossible."
Gardiner wrinkled his nose and opened his mouth, then closed it, and Bennet said, "Go ahead, Brother; tell me what you are thinking. I am aware that my own thoughts are clouded by all that has come to pass, and I welcome your suggestions."
"In that case, I wonder if perhaps you ought to set aside any thought of rebuilding the east wing. You are fifty years of age, Brother, and Longbourn will pass on to a distant cousin after your death. Instead of struggling and scraping to rebuild the east section, perhaps you should make the dining room into a kitchen, and the drawing room into a dining room, and so on. It would be more feasible than finding the funds for an entire construction."
Bennet tilted his head, his brow creased, and mused, "That is wise counsel, though I fear Fanny will be outraged. She takes great pride in Longbourn and will not be at peace with a smaller home."
"Then you will have to put up with her anger," his brother-in-law said, and at the surprised look in Bennet's eyes, continued sternly, "Two thousand pounds a year is a good income, and you have saved nothing because you do not have the courage to oppose the whining of your wife and youngest daughters. Given the severity of the disaster, you will have to make hard choices in the coming weeks, including curtailing the spending of my beloved, spendthrift sister."
Bennet was inclined to be insulted by this plain speaking, but he was intelligent enough to know that Gardiner was right.
"I would like to be able to argue with you on this, but you are correct, of course," he said unhappily. "I have hidden in my library and ignored my wife and my daughters. It is a miracle the older three turned out so well given how careless I have been with their upbringing. Yes, I will work with Jane and Elizabeth to make a budget, and we will reduce our expenses significantly, though some repairs must be done, and soon, and where that money is to come from I do not know."
"I will lend you five hundred pounds to initiate repairs," Mr. Gardiner said and lifted a warning finger as Bennet's mouth opened in protest. "It will be done formally, and we will sign papers, but you know I would never throw you in Marshalsea if you cannot repay it in your lifetime. It can come out of the estate after you pass, if necessary, though I believe that if you truly work hard at it, you can easily save a substantial sum within the year."
Bennet nodded and said, "You are correct, of course. It will require substantial changes for all of us, but perhaps most of all, me. I have abrogated my responsibilities as master, husband, and father, but I am quite determined that this changes now."
/
Charlotte brushed the inside of her upper arm across her face, her hands and lower arms liberally dusted with flour. Her sleeves were rolled up to right above her elbow to protect them while she worked. In front of her sat a perfectly-latticed apple pie, brushed and gleaming. Mr. Collins had mentioned that apple was his favorite kind of pie, and Charlotte had been determined to make one today.
She was rather adept at baking. Unlike her friend Elizabeth and the other Bennet sisters, she had been in the kitchen from a young age, learning to cook and to bake. Lady Lucas, not forgetting the time her husband had been a mere merchant and she but the daughter of a clergyman, had insisted that both her girls learn economy and how to manage a household. She herself had sat them down with the books, poring over them with her daughters and impressing upon them the necessity of living within their means.
It had not been long before Charlotte had discovered within herself a talent for baking, which her mother had encouraged. It was a useful sort of skill, and Charlotte had spent many hours in the kitchen honing it. As a result, she could make many dishes of surpassing excellence – including apple pie.
"Make sure it bakes perfectly," she enjoined the cook, brushing the flour from her hands before hurrying from the kitchen. Maria had agreed to style her hair for her again, as she wanted to look her best when Mr. Collins arrived.
She chose the demure pale pink frock with the cream ribbons today, and Maria carefully curled and pinned up her hair. Charlotte again dabbed zinc across her face, examining the results critically in the mirror. The pink did not match her complexion as the blue did, but at least it did not make her look sallow. She and her sister had done their best, and only time would tell if it would yield results.
There was a loud knock on the door below, and Maria met her eyes in the mirror. Charlotte gave her younger sister a warm smile. "Thank you, Maria."
"You are welcome. Good luck!" her sister whispered, and Charlotte stood to glide from the room to go downstairs. She paused at the landing, watching her father greeting Mr. Collins, before the two men turned to disappear into the study for the quarter-hour before dinner. Charlotte descended and entered the dining room to aid her mother in overseeing the place settings.
Everyone filtered into the room shortly, taking their places. Charlotte seated herself gracefully across from Mr. Collins and gave him a demure smile. He smiled back rather absently before they all bowed their heads in reverence as Sir William said grace.
Scarcely had he finished than Lady Lucas burst out, "We went to see Mrs. Bennet at the Netherfield lodge today."
"Did you?" her husband asked mildly, selecting a piece of roast beef. "And how is she doing?"
"Oh, much better, much better." Lady Lucas waved this off, almost knocking the lightly buttered peas off the serving spoon. "But she told us something very interesting! It was Lydia who burned down Longbourn!"
Mr. Collins's eyes bugged in dismay, and Sir William raised an eyebrow and asked, "Was it now?"
"We don't know for certain, Mamma," Maria protested timidly.
"Oh, I'm sure it was, Maria," Lady Lucas dismissed. "The child is irresponsible and flighty. Honestly I'm surprised she did not cause something catastrophic sooner."
"This is terrible," Mr. Collins declared, appalled. "My most esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, would never want me to marry into a family that could produce such foolishness!"
Charlotte took a silent bite of mashed potatoes. She did wish her mother wouldn't gossip so – the accusations against Lydia would be flying around the town by tomorrow – but on the other hand, Mr. Collins appeared to have lost interest in wedding his cousins. And this, undeniably, increased her own chances considerably. Her conscience pricked her as she glanced towards her sister's unhappy countenance; Charlotte did wish she could do something to ease poor Maria's discomfort.
Mr. Collins had been cogitating as he sipped at his wine, and now set his glass down decidedly. "I do not wish to return to Longbourn," he declared. "It is smoky and uncomfortable. I feel for my poor cousins, but I do not know that my presence will be of any succor in this trying time. I believe it would be much better for me to remove the burden of my upkeep, and I know that Lady Catherine de Bourgh would say so as well were she here to grace us all with her wisdom."
"You are most welcome to stay with us," Sir William offered jovially.
Lady Lucas's glance at her eldest daughter was quicksilver; if Mr. Collins agreed, it would be a serendipitous opportunity. "Yes indeed, dear Mr. Collins," she agreed cordially. "We would be most pleased to have you."
"I shall consider it," Mr. Collins conceded magnanimously as the first course was cleared away and dessert brought in.
A steaming apple pie was set down between Charlotte and Mr. Collins, the rest of the table taken up by delicate ratafia cakes and luscious cheesecakes. Charlotte watched with outward serenity and inner anticipation as Mr. Collins tried his first bite of the apple pie. His eyes widened in amazement, and he looked down at his plate, as she fought the urge to bite her lip like some nervous chit just out the schoolroom.
"This is most excellent," he declared enthusiastically.
Lady Lucas beamed. "It was our own dear Charlotte who prepared it. She is a dab hand at pies, I must say."
"Indeed?" Mr. Collins cast Charlotte a most gratifying glance of approbation. "Well I must congratulate you on your magnificent talents, Miss Lucas. Utterly superb."
Charlotte smiled graciously. "Thank you, Mr. Collins," she said calmly, and took a delicate little bite of her ratafia cake. She observed with satisfaction that he took a second large slice of the pie before dessert was cleared away, and as she and her mother and sister rose from the table when the decanters were brought, the seed of hope in her heart germinated and began to grow.
/
Billiard Room
Netherfield
The sound of balls clacking together echoed slightly off of the oak panels of the walls, the sound deadened by the plush carpet, brown and dark amber. A pair of cushioned armchairs sat before a leaping fire, a decanter of whiskey and tumblers sitting on the sturdy small table between them. Dark reddish-brown drapes had been drawn across the windows to keep the light in.
Darcy straightened and reached for the cube of chalk, brushing it lightly across his cue tip as he watched Bingley line up a shot. Darcy could see that the angle was just slightly wrong, and that the ball would go glancing off to the side. His friend had been playing very poorly tonight, and Darcy suspected he knew the reason why.
"I cannot stop thinking about Miss Bennet," Bingley said abruptly as if he knew his friend's thoughts. He set aside his cue and stared at his closest friend. "Indeed, Darcy, I am confident that I am in love with the lady and am thinking about making her an offer."
Darcy likewise set aside his own cue and allowed his face to settle into a frown of disapproval. "You have only known Miss Bennet for a few weeks. It would be most imprudent to offer after so short an acquaintance."
Bingley wrinkled his brow and wandered over to the fire, where he kicked a log with one booted foot, causing the flames to flare higher.
"It is true that I have known her only since last month," he said, though he kept his back to Darcy, "but the truth is that I know Miss Bennet better than any of the ladies I have met at parties in the past. After all, what can one learn during a few dances? I have spent many hours in Miss Bennet's company, and I am convinced of her sweet nature and loving character."
He turned around at this juncture, bent an accusing stare at the master of Pemberley and demanded, "Or do you think Miss Bennet is pretending to be a generous, kindly lady in order to entrap me in marriage?"
"No, no," Darcy replied hastily, raising a protesting hand. "No, I am confident of Miss Bennet's excellent disposition and honorable nature. But Bingley, you know as well I do that Miss Bennet, for all her charms, is the daughter of a mere country gentleman, with ties to trade, and with a pittance for a dowry. I fear she is not an eligible bride."
Bingley's eyes narrowed and he inquired, "What do you mean 'not eligible'?"
The master of Pemberley looked genuinely bewildered at this question. "I am certain you know what I mean, Bingley. Your fortune, your character, and your exposure to the best of society allow you to reach quite high for a bride. There are many young women of the ton, some of them of noble birth, who would be privileged to accept your hand, and who would allow you to climb higher yet in the ranks of society."
Bingley wandered over to a nearby tray, picked up the whiskey bottle, and, at a nod from his friend, poured two glasses. He picked up both glasses and walked over to hand one cup to his friend before taking a sip from his own cup.
"And what if I do not care to climb higher in the ranks?" he asked, his head tilted, his eyes narrowed. "That is Caroline's desire, certainly; she has been ambitious since she was in leading strings, and I confess that for many years, I have allowed myself to be dragged along in the wake of her aspirations. But now – Darcy, I admire Miss Bennet, I care for her, indeed, I am confident I love her, in ways that I have never experienced before in my life. Oh, I know what you will say, that I have been in love many times before, but this time is different!"
This was, indeed, what Darcy had been intending to say, but he decided that for now, it was best to be quiet and listen.
"The truth," Bingley mused, taking another drink, "is that I am more in tune with my antecedents as a son of trade than I realized. I do not wish to marry an elegant lady who would far rather attend a ball than spend a quiet evening at home. I wish for a wife who cares for me, who wants to spend time with me, who will be a good and devoted mother to my children."
"You have always shown every sign of treasuring social engagements," Darcy protested, "far more than I do!"
"I do enjoy parties, and balls, and assemblies, yes! But I enjoy them because I enjoy people! I am not like Caroline; she does not truly enjoy balls, you know. She is always thinking about who will dance with her, and whether she can score an acquaintance with a member of the nobility or some such nonsense. No, I feel far more at ease here in Hertfordshire, amongst the four and twenty families whom you disdain so much. Now go ahead, despise me if you dare!"
Darcy goggled at his friend incredulously, even as his mind flipped back to a few weeks ago when he had asked Miss Elizabeth to dance a reel, and she had refused. She had used very similar wording, and he wondered – was he prone to looking down on those around him so readily?
"Indeed, I do not dare," he managed to say. "Truly, Bingley, if you are happier in the country, I understand entirely. Nonetheless, may I ask, as your friend, that you wait a little longer before making a formal offer to Miss Bennet? You have a generous heart, and I wonder whether part of your love for the lady is mixed with sympathy for her difficult position in life, especially given the catastrophe at Longbourn."
Bingley grimaced and said, "I suppose there is some sense to that. But I intend to call on Miss Bennet often in the near future, and with the intention of making her my wife unless it becomes obvious that we are not, in fact, compatible."
"Very well," Darcy agreed. A face formed in his mind's eye, that of Elizabeth Bennet, her fine eyes sparkling, her dark curls dancing coyly beneath her bonnet. She was such an energetic, vigorous, lively woman – though not, of course, a worthy bride for a Darcy!
But given that Bingley was determined to court Miss Bennet, there was every reason for Darcy to accompany his friend to Longbourn frequently, where he would have the pleasure of enjoying Miss Elizabeth's bright presence. There could be no harm in performing this duty for his friend.