Uncommonly Intelligent Chapter 10: The Day After, a pride and prejudice fanfic

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Chapter 10: The Day After

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire, October 1, 1811

Darcy basked in the glow of ultimate contentment. He felt as if he were floating on a cloud. A beautiful woman with hypnotic amber eyes, chocolate curls, and a bewitching smile looked at him lovingly, and seemed to glide rather than walk as she approached him with her hips swaying sensually. She stopped with her face just inches from his, and he breathed in her intoxicating scent. She parted her full, succulent lips to whisper the words he longed to hear, "Clatter clatter clatter clatter!"

He awoke with a start, as the clattering of hooves on the paving stones below his window slowed and then ceased. Can it be morning already? But the light streaming through his window made the answer obvious. It sounded as if his coachman was getting an early start back to town. He rolled out of bed and stumbled toward the window, still groggy from sleep, as he donned the robe he had left by his bedside.

It was his coach, right enough, he observed as he looked out. But what the hell? His stallion, Balius, was tied to the back of the coach, along with Bingley's horse Pegasus. How on earth did they get here? Then he looked upward, and saw that the sun was west of its peak. Good Lord, it was afternoon, not morning! He had somehow slept for over ten hours! His coachman must have already been to town and back, bringing his horse. He made a mental note to give the man a bonus, for he had been up just as long as Darcy the previous day.

When he and Bingley had visited Netherfield in August, Darcy had noted that its stables were clean and spacious, but empty. No carriages, no horses, no straw in the stalls, no attendants, no feed. Mr. Whitney, Netherfield's steward, kept a horse and cart in a small barn next to his cottage, and evidently that had been sufficient for toting groceries and the like to Netherfield's small skeleton staff. So when Darcy and Bingley were planning this trip, they had decided to leave their stallions in town until the stables were staffed and provisioned, which Darcy thought might take a week or more. Their coachmen would have more than enough to do just taking care of the carriage horses by themselves.

But after arriving at Netherfield the previous day, Darcy had walked around a bit to stretch his legs before taking his pre-assembly bath, and had noticed activity at the stables. He went over to investigate, and saw that the remarkable Mrs. Nicholls had not only hired a full staff for the house proper, but for the stables as well, and there were several stable boys at work putting fresh straw on the stall floors and filling the feed bins. A brief discussion with the head groom convinced Darcy that the man knew his business, and so he informed Bingley that along with their valets and luggage, the coach could retrieve their stallions when it returned to town.

There was a sharp rap at his door, and Darcy shouted, "Enter!" without turning around. He heard a thump, and remembered that the door could not be opened, for he had pushed a heavy bureau in front of it before he went to bed. "Just a moment!" he shouted as he walked to the door, and with a grunt, moved the bureau aside. The door opened and Billingsley, his valet, entered. He looked at the bureau with amusement and said, "So that's how it is, eh, sir?"

Darcy grinned ruefully. "I don't know if you have had the chance to make the acquaintance of Miss Bingley, but for the duration of our stay, your first priority is to make sure you know where she is at all times. Did you bring the extra footmen?"

"Yes, sir, Osmond and Dow."

"Good choice," Darcy nodded. He grinned again. "I can't exactly say I'll sleep more soundly with you men here, for I slept like a corpse last night, but I will certainly be more relaxed while I'm awake."

His valet chuckled. "I'll ask to have a couch brought up, shall I, sir?"

"Yes, I believe that would be prudent, though we'll wait and see whether you will actually have to sleep here. The woman is quite blatant in her attentions, but I have no evidence that she would go so far as to attempt a compromise."

Billingsley looked around the room, noting how fresh and clean everything seemed. "Excuse me, sir, but I was given to understand that this house wasn't ready for occupancy, yet I have seen nothing amiss."

"If you haven't yet met Mrs. Nicholls, the housekeeper, make it your business to do so," Darcy replied. "She has done everything in a few days that I had hoped to do in three weeks, and most likely better than I would have. I can see why the owners of this estate wrote a clause into Bingley's lease that protects the senior staff. They are unbelievably competent. In fact, if you have the occasion to converse with them, you might mention what a joy it is to work at Darcy House or Pemberley," he said with a wink.

"Aye, it would be sheer heaven, if only the master weren't such a grouch," Billingsley quipped. He had been Darcy's valet since before Darcy entered Cambridge some ten years earlier, and they had a very easy relationship. He regarded his master still in his pajamas and robe, and asked, "Will you be wanting a bath and a shave now, sir?"

Darcy retrieved his pocket watch from the bedside table and looked at it. "My god, it's after two. But you just got here; you will need some time to sort yourself out. I think I'll take Balius for a ride now, and then bathe before dinner."

"Right you are, sir. I'll see to the luggage."

"No, Billingsley, I'm serious. See to yourself, and help get Osmond and Dow squared away. The luggage will keep until tomorrow."

"As you say, sir."

As Darcy had hoped, there was bread and cheese on the sideboard in the dining room, and he thought again that he really should see about stealing Mrs. Nicholls away. Even better, he did not encounter Caroline Bingley on his way there, so he grabbed a quick bite and then hurried out to the stables. Balius was already being curried by the head groom, but Darcy said, "Leave off, Mr. Murdock, I'll take him out for a short ride while he's still warm. I imagine he wants to stretch his legs after plodding along behind the coach today."

"He's a fine animal, Mr. Darcy," Murdock said with appreciation.

Darcy patted Balius affectionately as the horse nuzzled him, and he fed him a carrot stick he had filched from the dining room. "The finest I've ever had," Darcy said. "I wouldn't trade him for the Derby winner."

Murdock's first impression of Darcy from the previous evening was favorable, for the man had shown a good knowledge of horses and their care by the questions he had asked about Netherfield's facilities. That impression was strengthened by the obvious bond between the man and his magnificent stallion. How a man treated his animals said much about his character.

"Which saddle, sir?" Murdock indicated the two saddles the coachman had brought.

"The darker one is mine, the other is Bingley's." Murdock nodded and began saddling Darcy's horse. Darcy asked, "Will I be interfering with any farm business if I ride through the fields, or should I stick to the roads?"

"Although Mr. Whitney would know for certain," Murdock replied, referring to Netherfield's steward, "I believe that you would inconvenience no one by riding through fields that have already been harvested."

"Thank you," said Darcy as he was handed the reins, favorably impressing Murdock again with his courtesy. Darcy began to swing up, but then stopped, thinking that he didn't know the area, and it might pay to be cautious. "I will be riding in the direction of Meryton," Darcy said, "and should be back in an hour or so." In the unlikely event he had any trouble, Murdock would know which direction to look for him.

"Very good, sir. Enjoy your ride."

Darcy decided to stick to the road until he talked with Mr. Whitney. He was here to help Bingley, and he did not want to antagonize the tenants his first full day at Netherfield. Getting his bearings, he started off on the road toward Meryton, with trees to his left, and fields to his right. He noted that almost half of the fields had been harvested, and that the tenants were industriously working on the others. After a short trot, he eased Balius into a gallop, which the horse seemed eager to do. Darcy didn't want to go too fast or too far, for the horse had just trotted all the way from London, but he thought a short gallop would do them both good. He loved to ride the first thing in the morning - or in this case, the first thing in the afternoon.

As he rounded a curve in the road, he saw a woman in the distance walking away from him, carrying a large basket, though she handled it as if it were quite light, swinging it freely, almost as if she were dancing with it. As he got closer, he eased Balius down to a canter, then a trot, and finally a walk, so as not to kick up dust when he passed her. He could now see that she was dressed as a gentlewoman, and had a light and pleasing figure. Could it be? But why would Miss Elizabeth be on the road alone?

Elizabeth Bennet stopped humming when she heard the galloping horse, and looked back over her shoulder to see that it was heading in her direction. She immediately began looking for a place she could step off the road without soiling her dress, for she did not recognize the horse and rider, and therefore did not know how much room he would give her as he galloped past. Might he be an express rider? But then she heard the change in cadence as the horse began to slow. Apparently, whoever it was at least had the consideration to not thunder past her.

As the rider approached and finally slowed to a walk, she was astonished to see that it was Mr. Darcy. He halted about twenty feet short of her, and then dismounted and approached her, leading his horse. He stopped in front of her and bowed. "Good day, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled and curtsied. Mr. Darcy seemed much more at ease than when she had first seen him enter the assembly hall the previous evening. He was not smiling broadly enough to show his dimples, but he was at least smiling. And he looked quite handsome in a roguish sort of way. She suddenly realized why.

"Mr. Darcy, did you leave your razor in London?"

Darcy rubbed his chin ruefully. "I believe I told you how little sleep I had yesterday eve?" When Elizabeth nodded, he continued, "The truth is that after the assembly, I slept like a dead man, and awoke less than an hour ago, to the sound of my horse arriving from town. I decided to take him for a gallop before he cooled down, and to bathe and shave afterward. I did not expect to encounter anyone, least of all a gentlewoman, on this road."

Elizabeth laughed. "And who is this fine tall fellow?" she asked, petting his horse's neck.

"His name is Balius," said Darcy, wondering whether she would know the reference to the Iliad.

His question was quickly answered. "Oho!" said Elizabeth, her eyes dancing. "And is that because he is dappled, or because you fancy yourself the new Achilleus?"

Darcy was impressed. Although Miss Elizabeth was not the first woman of his acquaintance who had recognized his stallion's name, there had not been many. But what made her unique was that she used the Greek form of the hero's name, Achilleus. Virtually everyone he knew, male and female, used the romanized form Achilles, since that was how the two most popular English translations of the Iliad, those of Chapman and Pope, rendered it. Surely Miss Elizabeth had not read the Iliad in Greek?

He made a face of mock innocence. "It is because he is dappled, I assure you. I would never presume to compare myself to Achilleus."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Yes, your humility was what most impressed me when I first met you. You acted as if you had only one fewer flaw than Achilleus."

Darcy's brain, no longer dulled by lack of sleep, was much quicker than it had been at the assembly. Achilles was famous for having only one weakness, his heel. Elizabeth was implying that Darcy had acted as if he considered himself to be perfect.

"Miss Elizabeth, let me apologize again...," but he broke off as he saw the mirth in her eyes. "Miss Elizabeth, you are teasing me!"

"I am, sir. You will find it is a habit I am unable to break, despite regular beatings," she said with a smile. Then her face became more serious, and her eyes looked into his. "But truly, sir, you have already been forgiven, so there is no need to keep apologizing."

Darcy had to look away from those amazing eyes, lest he fall into them. But as he looked over her shoulder, he saw something disturbing. When he had ridden up to her, the farm workers had been scattered randomly around the fields. Now they were drifting toward the spot where he and Miss Elizabeth were standing, and their faces were grim. He also noted that most were holding tools with sharp edges. Seeing an unshaven stranger accost an unaccompanied gentlewoman on the road had evidently aroused their protective instincts.

Elizabeth, who had been petting Darcy's horse again, looked back at Darcy and saw him looking behind her with some concern. She looked over her shoulder and saw the men approaching, and quickly waved her hand, palm down. The men stopped and seemed to relax, though they remained vigilant.

Darcy noticed the signal, which he thought must mean "Stand down," and was baffled. He had a system of hand signals with his own footmen, but not with his tenant farmers. Besides, were they not still on Netherfield property?

He asked Elizabeth that question, and she bristled. "This is a public road, Mr. Darcy, and I have as much right to use it as you," she said coldly.

"Peace, Miss Elizabeth, I meant no offense. I was only surprised that you had arranged hand signals with the tenants of a neighboring estate, for I do not have such a system even with my own tenants."

Elizabeth relaxed. "I have not arranged signals, sir, I simply made an obvious gesture to tell them I was not being threatened," she said. "As for them being Netherfield's tenants, as I said last evening, we are all friends here. You can see that I am not truly alone when I walk along the road by myself, for good neighbors watch out for each other.''

"Indeed, I am much reassured. I was going to insist on escorting you to your estate, but I see now that my help is unneeded. Though I hope it would not have been unwelcome?"

Although Mr. Darcy had done much to repair the bad first impression he had made at the assembly, Elizabeth had not quite made up her mind about him. While she knew nothing bad about him, it was not unheard of for men as rich and handsome as he to trifle with women, especially when they were passing through an area in which they would likely spend only a short time. So she merely said, "Let us say that your good intentions are appreciated, and leave it at that. But your horse must be getting cold, and I believe you have a shave waiting for you at Netherfield?"

Darcy could take a hint. And she was right, Balius needed to be cooled down properly, and walking no faster than a woman strolled would not suffice. "Then I will bid you good day, and I hope that we may meet again soon."

Elizabeth gave a final pat to Balius, and said, "As we are now neighbors, I shouldn't be surprised. Good day, Mr. Darcy. Good day, Balius."

Back at Netherfield, the Bingleys and the Hursts had at last come down for breakfast at nearly three in the afternoon. Charles was smiling incessantly, with a dreamy look in his eyes. Caroline was in no mood for it.

"Charles, stop looking like a besotted schoolboy. You act as if you have never attended a ball before. That wretched affair was nothing to any of the balls we have attended in town."

Bingley replied, "I'll grant you that the facilities weren't the finest, but the ladies were certainly as pretty as any in London. Especially Miss Bennet. She is an angel!"

Caroline huffed. "Oh, I suppose she is pretty for a farm girl, but what are her accomplishments? What did you talk about, turnips and cabbages? Her prize pig, perhaps?"

Bingley furrowed his brow in thought. "Do you know, I can't remember! All I know is that I had a delightful time."

"Well, have your fun, but be on your guard. These country wenches will be sure to entrap you if you give them the slightest opportunity. I'm sure that is why Mr. Darcy did not dance last night."

Charles looked confused. "But he did! Oh, that's right, you had already left."

Caroline had just taken a sip of tea, and almost sprayed it out. "WHAT? Mr. Darcy danced? With that blonde Bennet?"

"No, I don't believe he danced with Miss Bennet. Is that right, Hurst?"

Mr. Hurst, who was heaping jam onto a piece of bread, replied, "I didn't see him dance with either of the blonde sisters. But I believe he danced with the other two, and Miss Lucas as well. He seemed to be having an especially good time with the pretty dark-haired sister. Elizabeth, I think her name was." He grinned at Caroline. "But not as good a time as Charles had with the blonde. He talked about her the entire ride back."

Caroline was no longer interested in what Charles had or had not done. She was enraged to learn that Mr. Darcy had danced after she left. And after not taking her hints to ask her! Had she been too subtle?

She pictured the women Hurst had mentioned. Miss Lucas was no threat. She was the host's daughter, and quite plain. Mr. Darcy had obviously danced with her only out of courtesy. The younger Bennet sisters were also nonentities, in spite of the gawks the youngest one got from the men over her large bosom. A man like Mr. Darcy would consider such a woman only for a fling, or perhaps make her his mistress.

But Miss Elizabeth might be a problem. She had rather fine eyes, and seemed somehow more refined than a country miss should be, though Caroline was sure it was an act. She must have heard how rich Mr. Darcy was.

"What do you mean when you say Darcy was having a good time?" she asked Hurst.

Hurst shrugged. "What does anybody mean? He was smiling and laughing."

Caroline was aghast. She hadn't seen Darcy smile once all day yesterday, and he had looked especially dyspeptic at the assembly. Why on earth would he be smiling and laughing with that Bennet chit? Had she offered him her favors?

She needed to find out more about the Bennets, and especially that Miss Elizabeth. But she didn't want that scheming hussy anywhere near Netherfield, turning Darcy's head. No, an oblique approach was best.

"Louisa, if Charles is to offer for Miss Bennet," Caroline said with a derisive smirk, "we should get to know her better. What do you think about inviting her for tea?"

Bingley jerked to attention at that. "That is a marvelous idea! Shall we do it tomorrow?"

Caroline glared at him. "You are not invited, Charles. This is to be a ladies' tea. Weren't you and Mr. Darcy supposed to be setting this estate to rights?"

"Er, well, yes, but it seems that Mrs. Nicholls has already done that. Darcy said that the stables are even ready for our stallions."

"Good Lord, Charles, there is more to running an estate than riding a horse! Even I know that it is harvest season. Shouldn't you be out there learning about that?"

Bingley looked sheepish. "I suppose you are right. I was going to ask Darcy about it, but I haven't seen him today. Does anyone know if he is awake yet?"

No one answered him, so he said, "Well, surely he will be here soon, one way or the other."

Louisa spoke up. "I have no objection to inviting Miss Bennet for tea, Caroline. She seemed very nice. Shall we invite her sisters as well?"

Caroline wanted to shriek that the next time she saw her, she hoped that Miss Elizabeth would be boarding a ship for Botany Bay. But she schooled her features and said, "Perhaps it would be best to invite Miss Bennet by herself this time, as she is the eldest. We can judge from her behavior whether we might want to further our acquaintance with the rest of her family. After all, they are country folk. Once we invite them, they might feel that they can drop in here any time they wish. Let us get to know them better before we open a door that we cannot close."

Louisa nodded, for she knew Caroline well enough to know that her mind was already made up. Arguing would only distress everyone, and would not change the outcome.

"Then it's settled," Caroline said. "I shall send the invitation." She looked at the clock. There was time to send the invitation today, but not to receive a visitor. Best not to give Elizabeth - no, that name was too regal for a country strumpet. Best not to give Eliza time to figure out some way to include herself in the invitation. She would send the invitation tomorrow morning for tea that same afternoon.

Caroline politely excused herself and walked sedately up the stairs to her bedroom, where she softly closed the door, calmly walked over to the writing desk, took a penknife from a drawer, and began stabbing a cushion until it fell into pieces. How dare that baggage dance with her Mr. Darcy! She would learn all she could about Miss Eliza from Charles' angel of the month, and then she would know how to act.

A/N: Well, she sounds nice. Thank you to everyone who reviews, follows, or faves.

UPDATED A/N: Some of my reviews and PMs have expressed real concern about Caroline's capacity for violence or even murder, so I want to assure my gentle readers that while she may throw tantrums in the privacy of her bedroom, Caroline is NOT going to physically attack Lizzy or anyone else in this story.