Chapter 25
Dear Mary,
I do hope you are well and enjoying early spring in Hertfordshire. Jane and I have had the pleasure of visiting a number of the parks and gardens here in London. They are undoubtedly lovely, but I do miss the familiar walks of Longbourn.
I am delighted to hear that you and the Misses Adler are enjoying one another's company. How wonderful that Miss Phoebe is so gifted on the pianoforte!
I wish to invite you to London to stay here at Half Moon Street, dear Mary. There are plenty of bedchambers, and we would relish your company. I do not press you, of course, but please know that you are very welcome.
We visited the British Museum in Montagu House yesterday, in company with Mr. and Miss Darcy, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. One could spend days there, and I hope to return again, but at Mr. Darcy's suggestion, we spent half of our time on the upper floor looking at manuscripts, minerals, shells, fossils, and the like, and the other half in the gallery, where I particularly enjoyed the coins, medals, and Egyptian antiquities.
This is a short letter but I must dress for a party. Tomorrow evening we are staying home, which pleases me. Dancing and gaiety are well enough, but attending them every day of the week is genuinely exhausting!
With much love,
Elizabeth
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Dear Elizabeth,
Many thanks for your kind invitation, but I am very satisfied at Longbourn. Indeed, I have never been so happy in my life! The house is remarkably peaceful without our mother fretting and worrying over the entail, and Kitty and I are both flowering under the guidance of the Adlers. Miss Phoebe is indeed a most remarkable pianist, but beyond that, she is also an excellent teacher.
Kitty definitely has a gift for sketching. She and Miss Adler often go outside to sketch trees and buildings and horses and the like.
Father and I are spending more time together as well. We play chess and backgammon, and yesterday, for the first time and to the surprise of us both, I beat him in chess! We are also talking about books together. Not Fordyce's sermons, as he is not the least interested in them, and I suppose I cannot blame him. For many years, I have looked down on novels and even Shakespeare in favor of philosophers and sermon makers. I still read sermons on occasion, but the Misses Adler have encouraged me that having a wider breadth of knowledge can only be an advantage, so long as I do not read anything dishonorable.
I have not mentioned Lydia thus far. She is the least satisfied with the situation here at Longbourn, as we are no longer permitted to wander freely and without oversight. I know you will be very pleased to know that! The Adlers do an excellent job of keeping us company in the presence of young men.
Lydia is quieter than usual, and rather sullen at times, but compared to her previous behavior, that is all to the good.
Father let slip that you are paying the Adlers' salaries. I am enormously grateful.
With love,
Mary
/
Mrs. Susanna Houston's House
Scarborough
A gentle breeze wafted the lace curtains at the windows, slightly yellowed with age and neatly darned in several places but obviously clean and well-loved. The smell of the ocean drifted in a faint tang, almost subsumed by the delectable scents of dinner spread across the polished old table. Sunlight poured through the opens windows, rendering candles unnecessary.
Their Aunt Susanna Houston was not well-off, as her clergyman husband had passed on to his reward some years ago, and she had no children to aid her in her advancing years. Bingley had generously helped her with rent and other basic necessities, but she took pains to live within her means, and thus the meal was modest if expertly cooked.
It was lovely and relaxing, and Bingley had always enjoyed his visits to his aunt. He enjoyed the ocean views and his aunt's kind graciousness. He wished that he could enjoy it on this visit too! But now he felt trapped here in Scarborough, while Jane Bennet awaited him in London…
"I must say," Mrs. Houston said, drawing Bingley's wandering attention, "that this Miss Bennet does not seem an eligible bride, Nephew."
Bingley shot an angry look at Caroline, who was smugly chewing on a piece of buttered bread.
"She is absolutely charming, Aunt," he said irritably. "Caroline dislikes her, of course, but everyone is in agreement that Jane Bennet is the most beautiful, charming, well-mannered lady in all of Hertfordshire."
That was laying it on a little thickly, but he needed to battle his sister's vitriol somehow.
"She may be all those things," his aunt said patiently, "but she is also the granddaughter of a solicitor, is that correct?"
"Yes, but her father is a gentleman!"
"A country gentleman," Caroline declared, "whose estate is entailed away to a cousin, and whose youngest daughters are reckless hoydens. Now Charles, you cannot deny the truth of that!"
"They are lively," Bingley said weakly.
Caroline sniffed and cast a superior glance toward their aunt. "They are far more than lively, Aunt Houston, I assure you. They flirt outrageously with militia officers and run around without a chaperone. Nor is Jane's next younger sister, Elizabeth, much better; she once walked all the way to Netherfield on a cold, windy day to visit her elder sister, who was staying over!"
"Jane was ill," Bingley protested, "and the carriage was not available."
"You are so naïve, brother! She was chasing Mr. Darcy, and you know it…"
Bingley glanced at his aunt, who was looking grim, and realized, with a sinking heart, that he had made a mistake in bringing Caroline to Scarborough. After his sister's inebriated rant after the Damaral ball, he had thought only to remove her from London society as quickly as possible, and he knew that his aunt Houston would welcome them with open arms. Now he remembered that Caroline and Susanna Houston had always been very close, and that his aunt was nearly as eager to raise the family name in society as Caroline was.
"Nephew, as long as you are here, I hope that you are willing to assist me with some business matters," Mrs. Houston said. "It is difficult, you know, as a widow, to speak to men of business…"
/
Balcony
Baron Holpin's Mansion
The musicians were pausing for a few moments to re-tune their instruments before beginning the fourth dance. Chatter rose from inside the ballroom, plainly audible through the open glass doors. A cool breeze drifted across the balcony in welcome counterpoint to the stifling heat inside, tugging at fine lace and stray hairs and elegant silk.
Elizabeth had gratefully accepted Baron Holpin's invitation to step outside for a moment, relieved to be out of the oppressive warmth of the ballroom. He had agreed easily enough to her assertion that the doors must remain open; she was now thoroughly glad that he had, at least conceded that. Indeed she wished she had never agreed to step outside with him at all, or at least not without Lady Appleby accompanying her.
"Thank you, Lord Holpin," Elizabeth said, forcing herself to smile, "but I am afraid I must decline your kind offer. I fear we do not know one another well enough yet."
"What is there to know, Miss Elizabeth?" Lord Holpin, replied, stepping a little closer and reaching out to try to take her hands in his own larger ones. "I love you, beyond anything I ever could have imagined…"
"Miss Elizabeth!" a voice called out from behind them both, and Holpin muttered a curse and took a step back as Mr. Darcy marched onto the balcony and bowed slightly toward the baron, who was looking angry and embarrassed, and then more deeply toward Elizabeth. "I do believe the music is starting up for our dance."
Elizabeth had deliberately chosen to not dance the following cotillion because she was weary, but now – oh, how grateful she was for this elegant way out of a most distressing encounter.
"Thank you for our dance, Lord Holpin," she said with a slight smile and reached forward to take and grasp Darcy's strong arm.
Darcy guided her out into the ballroom, which was very warm indeed through the combined effects of a multitude of wax candles and dozens of elegantly clad ladies and gentlemen
He had, of course, been watching Elizabeth all evening, and when she had disappeared onto the balcony with Lord Holpin, he had immediately hurried to ensure she was safe.
Holpin was, thanks to a lavish lifestyle, in a great deal of debt, and would like nothing more than to claim beautiful, wealthy Elizabeth as his second wife.
His decision to watch over her had proven wise as after Elizabeth's refusal of Holpin's hand – and oh, how that sent a throb of relief through his soul – the baron had not shown any signs of accepting her decision without an argument.
Darcy hoped, very much, that the older man would not actually force himself upon her, but he was a cynic, and he was in love, and had thus had no hesitation in interrupting the twosome.
They were dancing now, his hand in hers, hers in his, as they twirled around in the steps, and while they did not speak, her expression was grateful.
He smiled at the lady, as he could ask for nothing more.
/
Mrs. Susanna Houston's House
Scarborough
4th April
Darcy,
I have been here in Scarborough for two weeks now and feel no closer to leaving than I did the day we arrived. Caroline has been very tiresome upset with me over the move from London to our Aunt Houston's house. She has had frequent fits of hysterics periods of sickness and feeling faint and the like.
I do intend to come back to Town when I can, but given my sister's behavior, I fear it will take longer than I hoped to settle my business here. My poor aunt is not in the best of health and has said she is not entirely able to manage Caroline without my assistance. She also has requested my help with several business matters, and she has yet to fully explain what they are.
Scarborough is, at least, a charming place, with the pleasant view of the ocean, not to mention the waters of the spa, which are supposed to be healthful. I drank a glass of the famous waters and found that they tasted like vile pig slop them not to my liking. I am thankful my health is good, so I do not have any real necessity to avail myself of the medicinal value of the local streams.
I hope that you are well, and please give my regards to Miss Darcy.
Charles Bingley
Bingley glanced over the letter and decided that, while it was moderately blotted, it was legible enough to be sent to his friend in Town. Since he disliked copying letters, that was pleasing to him.
What was less pleasing was the familiar, annoying sound of his younger sister's voice.
"Not an eligible man in the entire town," Miss Bingley whined, loudly enough that Bingley could hear her clearly, even though the door was closed between the office, where he was dealing with correspondence, and the drawing room, where his sister was sitting.
There was a soft murmur that must be their mutual aunt, and Caroline exclaimed loudly, "I would die rather than marry Lord Hudson! He is at least forty! Yes, he is a baron, but he is far too old for me. Moreover, his estate is quite small."
Another murmur, and Caroline's voice, when she spoke again, was nearly at the level of a shriek. "I would have married the master of Pemberley, but then Charles humiliated me in front of Mr. Darcy and dragged me here, and I will never forgive him…"
Charles Bingley was suddenly weary to the bone and lowered his upper body to rest his crossed arms on the desk and then lay his head on his arms.
What was he to do? He was responsible for his sister and could not abandon her after dragging her across much of Britain.
But Jane Bennet was waiting for him in London! He could not stay here!
But he could not leave. Caroline would never forgive him if he abandoned her here, and his Aunt Houston would not, and Louisa would not, and he would not forgive himself. Caroline was his baby sister…
But what of his love in Town? He had, at least, bid farewell this time, but already he had been here in Scarborough for two weeks, and he had told Miss Bennet that he would return within days.
He could not write her, of course, that would be improper.
For a moment, he was tempted to write a post script to his letter, asking Darcy to give the Bennets his greetings, but no, that might make Darcy uncomfortable.
He lifted his head and torso, sighed deeply, ran a hand across his forehead, and glanced at the clock. It was nearly time to dress for dinner.
/
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Author Note: Thanks for reading and commenting. :-)
