Author's Notes: Hi Guys! I hope that everyone is staying home and safe as best as they are able. All I can continue to say is thank you – you have no idea what your readership and enjoyment of this story have meant to me, especially right now.. With this abundance of time and so much encouragement my creative energy has been crazy! I've got another chapter for you! New record, possibly? I love hearing from you guys so much, and I'm perfectly opening to discussing questions on DM if anything is burning in your mind.
I wanted to take this moment to address a few issues with my story, that several commenters have rightly noted at this point.
1.) I get a few historical figures wrong throughout this text – I reference Gantry being trained by the Fielding Brothers, but as commenter Jim Doherty noted (thanks for bringing this up!), Gantry would have to be an old man for this to be possible. I'm imaging him to be about 30, so that won't do.
As I've learned more about Bow Street, I realized by the time of the Regency era, The Bow Street Magistrate's Office had a long-established reputation as well as a lot of issues with funding. During this period, we are on the precipice of this office being dissolved and England forming a more modern police force. I fully acknowledge that I am not an expert on this area of history, and was even less of an expert when I wrote those references to the founding brothers in originally. They will be edited out when I hopefully, eventually, do my revisions. Our Bow Street Runner is young and spry!
2.) Ages/Years/Dates/Seasons - Several of you rightly pointed out the ages I cite for several of the characters don't align with the time-frame I've given for the story, as well as not matching up with year dates I've used in several spots, and fluctuating between chapters. Sadly, I have no excuse for these errors except being a Type B person, and the sporadic updates between chapters with long gaps in between, and not thoroughly rereading/reviewing before I write new content. I've been doing that more now that the plot is progressing and I need to reference earlier scenes, but during the set up with months/years gaps between chapters…well…I didn't. I plan to do a total revision of this story once I complete it, to clean these issues up and fill in some plot holes/flesh out other arcs.
Below I've written out a timeline/sequence of events summary for Dancing on Hedgerows to help clarify things for readers who are confused. Please consider this to be the official timeline moving forward. I will do my best to not screw it up from here on out! All part of the fun and games of reading a WIP, I guess! Sorry guys!
DANCING ON HEDGEROWS – SEQUENCE OF EVENTS
September 1801: Mrs. Bennet & Baby Boy Bennet die in childbirth
September 1801 – September 1802: Bennet family year of mourning, Jane takes up mantel of caring for her younger sisters. Mr. Bennet determines to remarry.
April 1803: Mr. Bennet dies in a "carriage accident." Collins Sr arrives at Longborn to claim inheritance, Mrs. Gardiner comes to stay at Longborn to chaperone the Bennet sisters until their living accommodations are sorted out.
May 1803: Jane (15) is affianced to William Collins Jr. (17) Bennet sisters are split between households. Mary (12) & Jane(15) stay with Phillips family, Elizabeth (13) to Gardiner family, Kitty (9) & Lydia (7) are sent to school with the combined funds of Gardiner & Collins family.
August 1803: Elizabeth (13) is sketched by Forelli in Gardiner warehouse
October 1803: Bennet family enters half-mourning.
November 1803: Banns are called for Jane's (16, June '03) marriage to Collins Sr. (48) The marriage is delayed for a few weeks as Gardiner and Phillips go back and forth with Collins Sr, trying to understand what the heck is going on and attempt (slightly) to break the contract, as Jane was supposed to marry Jr, not Sr.
January 1804: Jane & Collins Sr are married. Mary (12) is supposed to remove to Longborn now that Jane has been married, but Elizabeth (13) begs her family to take Mary's place. Mary gives her preference to live with her Aunt & Uncle Phillips.
February 1804: Elizabeth (13) returns to live at Longborn, Mary (12) remains with the Phillips family.
April 1804: Bennet family year of mourning end. Jane (15) & Elizabeth (13) can now move in Meryton society. Collins realizes he has to tread carefully in his treatment of Jane around Elizabeth because she can ruin his reputation/respectability in Hertfordshire with a few well-placed words to the right friends of her mother's before he has established himself in the community. This realization establishes a battle of wills between Elizabeth and Collins.
September 1804: Elizabeth (14, May '04) overhears a conversation between Collins Sr. (49) and an unknown character, indicating Mr. Collins in a scheme to murder Mr. Bennet in order to gain his inheritance. Elizabeth faints. Mr. Collins discovers Elizabeth "sleeping" on the hale bale she was eavesdropping behind. Mr. Collins becomes incensed and punishes Jane (17, June 04) for Elizabeth's infraction. This incident is shown through a dream sequence in Chapter 10 and will be further explained later in the story.
October 1804: Elizabeth (14) runs away from Longborn. Her family is unable to trace her. She travels to London and adopts the name of Adelaide Bernard when she arrives at the home of Signore Forelli. More to be revealed/explained.
November 1804: Elizabeth moves into the Forelli home as a live-in model.
September 1805: Forelli launches an independent portraiture study using his model 'Adelaide' (15, May '05) to depict Venus, the Goddess of Love, called "The Many Moods of Venus" to wide acclaim. Forelli begins to allow Adelaide to mix with company and, she is now "Out to society".
January 1806: 'Adelaide'(15) meets Harold Thompson, who sees potential in her and encourages her to pursue the theatrical arts. Adelaide begins work in bit comedy roles and discovers a real talent for theater.
November 1807: 'Adelaide' (17, May 07) plays Ophelia in a production of Hamlet to much acclaim. Adelaide and Darcy are introduced but do not form an intimate acquittance. Mary (16, August '07) travels to London, to stay with the Gardiner family and study under various masters.
January 1808: "The Many Moods of Venus" is opened to public viewings. Mary (16) views the gallery during an outing with her drawing master and several of his pupils. Adelaide's fame increases exponentially from public exposure.
March 1808: Mary (16) returns to Hertfordshire from London and Jane invites her to come live at Longborn. Mary agrees.
October 1808: Darcy (25) and Adelaide (18, May '08) are reintroduced, with Adelaide's fame now proceeding her, Darcy takes much greater notice of her. Adelaide has a bustling career and begins to host "At-Homes" at Forelli's residence, which are very popular. Darcy attends these at-homes weekly, often in the company of his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. During this time, Charles Bingley's (23) father dies, recalling him from society. As an intimate friend of Darcy's, he meets Adelaide while attending a dinner party with Darcy once before this tragic event occurs, but largely forgets her.
April 1809: Darcy (26, November '08) makes an offer of marriage to Adelaide (18, May '08 [she is just shy of her 19th birthday at the time of the proposal]) and is rejected. (Prologue). This event humbles the young aristocrat.
June 1810: Darcy's young sister, Georgiana Darcy, comes dangerously close to eloping with George Wickham, a former friend of the Darcy family. This event further humbles Darcy. (P&P canon, not yet mentioned DoH).
September 1810: Having received a large inheritance from the death of his father, Charles Bingley (25) determines to try his hand at managing an estate, as was his father's wish for him. He leases Netherfield Hall, in Hertfordshire, and Darcy (27, November '09) travels with him to advise his friend in estate management. (Chapter 1)
October 1810: Charles Bingley (25), Darcy (27), (and the rest of the Bingley family) attend the Meryton Assembly where Charles meets and is immediately enthralled with Jane Collins (23, June '10), while Darcy is transfixed by her sister, Mary Bennet (19, August '10). Darcy realizes that his fixation with Miss Bennet is because she resembles Adelaide Bernard in both looks and mannerisms. Darcy spends a portion of the evening questioning Mary about herself and Meryton in a roundabout way (this conversation is not shown in full detail, but is referenced in Chapter Two, when the events of the Assembly are being discussed at Longborn).
A neighborly degree of intimacy grows between the residents of Netherfield and Longborn. Jane Collins attempts to encourage a match between Charles & Mary, but these efforts can not turn Bingley's attention away from Jane. Jane acknowledges to herself that she returns this attraction.
Adelaide Bernard (20, May '10) gains the favor Lady Fitzwilliam, (Darcy's Aunt) who is a great patroness of the arts. Adelaide attends a dinner party hosted by the Lady Fitzwilliam, where she is reacquainted with her son, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Colonel Fitzwilliam mentions that Darcy is staying at Netherfield in Hertfordshire – this information discomposes Adelaide, and he writes to Darcy making note of it.
November 1810: PRESENT DAY
William Collins Jr visits his family estate Longborn, at the insistence of his patroness, Lady Catherine, who insists that he marry and should choose a bride from the county in which he is set to inherit. Collins Sr feels demeaned and insulted by Lady Catherine's intrusion into his family affairs. He is not pleased by the visit.
The Collins family – including William Jr, call on Netherfield. The Collins family had received a personal invitation to a private ball at Netherfield and wanted to return the honor of such a visit. William Jr is introduced to Netherfield party as the family heir. Darcy notices that William has a purple bruise at the top of his cravat. From the window, Darcy observes the heir being dismissed from the family carriage and making his way on foot from the window. A deluge of rain comes, and Darcy and Bingley decide to look for William knowing he could not have returned to Longborn on foot in time to avoid the storm.
Collins Jr is found, severely indisposed. The pair bring him back to Netherfield, where the apothecary is summoned, and notes sent to Longborn.
Word arrives to Longborn regarding William Jr, and his health. Jane is infuriated to learn the William is ill. She blames Collins Sr and confronts him. This confrontation is short-lived, for Collins becomes so angry he collapses slightly and orders Jane to get out of his study – to leave him. In her anger, Jane decides to take this order literally and quits Longborn with Mary in order to attend to her ill stepson. They arrive at Netherfield on foot in the late afternoon/early evening during the first break in a series of storms and stay the night.
The next morning at breakfast, Bingley invites the Longborn ladies to stay at Netherfield until William has recovered. Bingley's sisters who are reading the society pages, tell the room that Signore Forelli, Adelaide's companion and benefactor, has died. Darcy tells the Longborn family that he has summoned a physician from London. He does not tell them that he has also hired a Runner from the Bow Street Magistrate's office to investigate the Bennet connection to Adelaide Bernard, which he suspects more every day, as well as William's injuries, which have been determined to have come from an assault. Mary & Jane spend this day rarely leaving William's bedside. Notes arrive from Collins Sr for the Bingley family as well a private message for his wife. This private communication is filled with abusive language and a command for Jane to arrange a compromise of Miss Bingley by William Jr. while they remain at Netherfield. (Chapter 10)
In London, Adelaide wrestles with the knowledge that she is now completely alone in the world but is also independently wealthy as Forelli has made her his heir. She begins the process of settling his estate and establishing a respectable household for herself as single woman living alone. She pines for companionship, especially Darcy's.
The following morning Jane comes across Mr. Bingley in the gardens, where they engage in a highly personal and emotional conversation. Jane asks that Mr. Bingley refer to her by her Christian name when they are alone. Later, Darcy writes a letter of condolence to Adelaide Bernard. Though he does not name the recipient, Mary Bennet guesses that it must be Miss Bernard, further confirming their connection in Darcy's mind. In the evening, the physician and the Runner arrive at Netherfield, and theories are discussed between the men. Darcy confides his love of Adelaide Bernard to Bingley and tells him of his belief she is connected to the Bennets, offscreen. (Chapter 13)
Adelaide receives Darcy's letter of condolence through the care of his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. Signore Forelli is buried and the house is closed for mourning. Adelaide attempts to make decisions about her future career, but her focus has become increasingly set toward making a home for her sisters and avenging her father's murder.
Edward Gardiner arrives at Adelaide's home the day of Forelli's burial, with a posthumous letter from that man in hand, revealing that Forelli know Adelaide's identity as Elizabeth Bennet. We also learn a good deal of Collins Sr. backstory from this letter. Elizabeth is overwhelmed at first but reconnects with her Uncle and reveals some of her plans for the future. She begs her Uncle to maintain her secret, as she has not yet reached her majority.
Collins Sr calls on Netherfield, where he has a confrontation with his wife in the garden that is interrupted by Mr. Bingley. Collins is asked to give a testimony to William's medical history, but this conversation rapidly becomes a heated interview, which continues into the afternoon tea service. Mrs. Collins, ordered to repair to her bed chamber as "not fit to be seen" by her husband, kisses Mr. Bingley in the conservatory, this leads to heated exchange in which Jane invites Mr. Bingley to join her in her bed chamber that evening.
Mr. Collins behaves poorly at tea and is evicted from Netherfield. Bingley refuses to allow Mary or Jane to return to Longborn with Mr. Collins. He is now the prime suspect in William Jr.'s assault. Mary reveals that she recognized Adelaide as Elizabeth when she viewed "The Many Moods of Venus" in London and has been keeping the secret since.
And that folks – is where we are at.
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"Will we have some sport today, or no?"
The question had come from Humphrey Hurst only that morning, when the dawn had broken to blue clear skies after a relentless barrage of autumn rainstorms. Unneeded in the sickroom, and unwelcome in joining Gantry and Bingley in their round of morning calls, Darcy had seen little else to do but to join his hosts' brother for a morning excursion. It had been a cold, muddy business, but the feel of the autumn sun against his cheeks was its own reward. Darcy was an active young man in the prime of his life, and the many days spent indoors wore on his spirits as much as it did any others'. Oh, Hertfordshire storms held little contest when compared to the wild weather in the peaks of Derbyshire, but rainy days at Pemberley were not nearly so stifling as this.
At Pemberley there was always something for the Master of the Estate to attend to, when all other diversions failed to amuse. In Hertfordshire, Darcy was a guest, and the limitations of such a role were wearing thin for a man so used to being in constant command. Bingley certainly relied on Darcy's judgement a great deal, and Darcy had travelled to Hertfordshire for the express purpose of lending his aid as Bingley adjusted to his role as a landowner. However, there was a certain difference in performing in an advisory capacity rather than being in charge which left Darcy restless. Bingley performed admirably, and Darcy was proud of his friend. Yet for his own part, Darcy could not shake the feeling that he needed to be doing more. He was not made to be idle. An idea had struck him that evening a dinner, and he had struggled with it since.
The morning's activity had been a welcome reprieve, and while he did not particularly enjoy Hurst's company, the man was blessedly quiet during such engagements. It had given Darcy time to think, away from all the others, as the sun revived his weary heart. However, the contemplations of the morning now seemed a lifetime ago, after the dizzying events of the afternoon. Mr. Collins, the elder, had finally called upon his incredibly ill son, and the happenings during that call had been…unexpected, and unpleasant.
Darcy slammed a ball into the pocket of Netherfield's fine billiard table, willing himself to focus on that which was in his control – the play before him. His friend was playing opposite him, and rather poorly at that. Bingley's expression was thoughtful, but far away, his mind clearly on matters other than their evening game. Gantry sat on a couch in the far corner of the room, indecipherable papers strewn about him, working on his investigation in companionable silence.
And what a fruitful day for the investigation it had been. Gantry's sly tongue had goaded Collins into acknowledging all the Bennet sisters which had once been under his protection and revealed the elaborate fabrication he had invented to shield such knowledge from the general public. After Collins was dismissed from Netherfield, Miss Bennet had moved the investigation along even further than Darcy had hoped possible at this juncture. She confirmed what Darcy had long suspected – that the missing Bennet sister, Elizabeth Bennet, had become the object of his affections, the actress Adelaide Bernard.
Darcy was self-aware enough to acknowledge that there was a small part of himself which was relieved to know that he had given his heart to a lady of his own sphere, no matter how remotely. He was a gentleman, and Adelaide – no, Elizabeth – was a gentleman's daughter, in that way at least, they were equals. In the months that he had grown to love her, Darcy had struggled with the weight of the expectations of his family to marry well, as well as society's view that an actress was little better than a harlot.
Even then, Darcy, at the full height of his own prideful conceit, had realized that society's views of his beloved and those of her profession were narrow and unfair. Yet, such disapprobation could not be dismissed, especially when he had charge of launching his younger sister, Georgiana, into that same society. The dictates of his education in familial duty demanded that he forget the penniless upstart he loved and marry an heiress of the first families in order to increase the status of his own noble line. However, this education had not considered the individuality of each young man who must bear the Darcy name. Fitzwilliam Darcy bore his name proudly and regally and did his utmost to live up to the standards of the Darcys whom had come before him. He considered the feelings of his family in all that he did, but this consideration was only that. This Darcy was a man great passion. When it came time to make a decision as important as the companion of his future life, Darcy was prepared to act as his own man.
Not for the first time, Darcy wondered at the disastrous manner in which he had delivered his proposal. He had been so infatuated with Adelaide then that there could have been no relief for his suffering but to offer for her. After months of torment, he had bolstered his courage and prepared himself to face the censure of his family and derision of the world to have her as his bride. He had convinced himself that he was ready to face the scorn of the world for love…but had he truly been prepared? In truth, Darcy was a shy man, uncomfortable with the attention of strangers, and distrustful of their interest in him. Could such a character, at six-and-twenty, have really rejoiced in making a match that would bring all the eyes of the Ton upon him?
He had entered that little parlor at Covent Garden fully expecting to emerge as a man engaged. With each step he had walked on that fateful journey to disappointment, he had prepared compliments to Adelaide's loveliness, and expressed his love as violently in his mind as any man possibly could…and then he had reached her door, opened his mouth, and sabotaged every chance at happiness.
He had been rude and offensive. He disparaged her condition in life, while congratulating himself on his own happy situation; he had called an alliance between them a degradation, while expecting her to accept his suit with joy. Could these insults, so different from the manner of proposal he had envisioned in his mind, have been a defense mechanism to push her away? Would any man address a lady with such a manner of proposal who wanted to be accepted? Had his courage failed him in the moment it mattered most?
Darcy shook his head, sinking another pocket.
His courage may have failed him at six-and-twenty, but it would not fail him today, nor would he allow it to falter again in the future. Adelaide's rejection had incensed him, shocked him, and cleaved his heart in two. He had been too hurt, too angry at the first, to give much credit to her reproofs, but when his first shock had subsided, he had been forced to reflect on the matter at length. He had realized that Adelaide's rejection had been a blessing. Darcy had never been denied anything he wanted before that day – and the lessons on the failures of pride, hard indeed to accept at first, which the episode had left him with, had made him stronger of mind and surer of his affections than ever before.
There was nothing for it. He knew what he had to do.
"Bingley," Darcy spoke firmly, cutting through the heavy silence of the billiard room, "I have made the decision to return to Town tomorrow, at first light."
Charles blinked, startled from his thoughts by the voice of his friend. He ran a hand through sandy blonde curls, as if such a gesture would shake the cobwebs from his mind. "Do you intend to return to Netherfield?"
"Yes, of course," Darcy replied with warmth. "I would not dream of abandoning you here when things are so…unsettled. I hope that my business might be concluded in a day or two at most. I am…I intend to…" Darcy frowned, trying to find the right words.
"He intends to call on Miss Bernard." Gantry supplied for him, not looking up from his papers.
Charles' eyes brightened in interest, while Darcy pinked at the collar, not denying the claim. "Do you think that wise, man?" Bingley asked with energy.
Darcy sighed heavily. "I hardly know. Miss Bernard and I did not part on amicable terms, as you know. I have not been in her company since the day of my thoughtless proposal. Until I sent her a letter of condolence in the care of my cousin, the Colonel, I had thought that we might never speak again."
"What an unhappy set of circumstances to bring about your reunion!"
Another deep sigh escaped him. "Yes – I rejoice in the idea that I may speak with her again, but what can I possibly say to her? That she must return to Hertfordshire with me at once to solve the disappearance of Elizabeth Bennet?"
"That is precisely what you should say." Came a droll reply from the corner, papers rustling.
"But of course!" Bingley exclaimed. "You both speak in jest, but Darcy I am in earnest! Why not invite Miss Bernard…Miss Bennet…to Netherfield? Do her sisters not deserve to hear her story from her very lips? What could be simpler than to bring her here?"
"You can not be serious, Charles." Came the stiff reply.
"I am perfectly serious!" He answered with uncharacteristic force. "With so many ladies present in my household, there could be nothing improper in Miss Bernard's staying at Netherfield for a few nights. The roads are in very poor condition, it is true, but we are a very easy distance from Town. I imagine Miss Bernard will be able to slip away to Hertfordshire with ease and return to London undetected."
Darcy was ready to issue a rejoinder, but an energized Charles Bingley was a difficult man to contend with. "I know what you will say next, Darcy," he continued with a laugh in his voice. "You will tell me that while Miss Bernard could likely leave Town without notice, she will attract great notice in Meryton should she come to stay at Netherfield."
"An actress of her renown, and much talked of in the most recent papers, will undoubtedly draw attention if she chooses to come to the countryside. Anyone who knew Miss Elizabeth as a girl may recognize her face in Miss Bernard as an adult. That may be a risk she is unwilling to take. At present, we do not know why Miss Bennet adopted this disguise when she left Longborn."
"Indeed, you are correct. Yet I believe she may visit with us here without facing detection. What is she much talked of for in the papers right now? She's in mourning of course! The neighbors could hardly expect to meet her in such conditions."
"I am afraid that I come to see Mr. Bingley's side of it!" Gantry called out with merriment. "A credible story can surely be created. From what I understand, Miss Bernard is quite the favorite of your Aunt, Mr. Darcy. If the gossip rags speak truly, Miss Bernard is expected to quit Town and take her rest in the countryside – at the expense of the Fitzwilliam family."
Bingley grinned, his eyes shining. "I do not think, Mr. Gantry," he spoke with affected disinterest, "that it would take much persuasion to convince Miss Bernard to make a break in her journey in order visit and condole with family. It is the most natural thing in the world, after all. In fact, I believe that Lady Fitzwilliam would be quite insistent upon Miss Bernard doing so, were she to learn of the situation."
Gantry chuckled in his seat. "As it has been widely speculated that Miss Bernard will be traveling to the country, and in the care of the Fitzwilliam family no less, it should come as no surprise to the people of Meryton that Miss Bernard may break her journey at Netherfield, where the nephew of her patroness is currently a guest. How very cleverly you manage it, Mr. Bingley! An answer for every question."
Darcy had been listening to this hastily concocted plan with a frown, all the while searching the billiard table for his next play. He did not look up from his cue when he said, dryly, "I must own that the logistics of such a scheme have a solid foundation. Yet I believe you are both neglecting to consider the most important factor in such a plan – the agreement of the lady in question."
"Come Darcy," said his friend with a sly smile, "you may yet discover your capability to charm a lady. I am sure that if you take the trouble to apply yourself you can make our invitation a pleasing prospect to Miss Bernard."
Growing frustrated, Darcy hit his mark with far too much force, missing the pocket and scattering the remaining balls across the table with frenzied energy. Agitation evident in his every step, he returned his cue to the rack. Turning to face his companions, he spoke sharply. "Confound it Charles! Have I not made myself clear enough already? You think that I need only simper, smirk, and offer the lady a pretty word or two and everything should fall in place with your plans? I tell you, you are mistaken! Miss Bernard has always kept her own council, and as she poised and firm she was at eighteen, I can only imagine that her strength of resolve has grown with her maturity. At our last meeting, I behaved so abominably that I wonder if I shall be received at all! And you tell me I need only flirt with her! I may have been mistaken in what I perceived as her regard for me – but I beg you, do not dare presume that your greater understanding of the fairer sex as a whole will supplant my knowledge of her character."
"My friend!" Charles cried, returning his own cue to the rack and grabbing a decanter and glasses from the sideboard. "I apologize. I had hoped that a bit of good-natured teasing might help ease your tension, and I see that I have only increased it. Darcy, you know how highly think of you, I am certainly ready to defer to your judgement in this matter."
"Forgive me, Bingley." Darcy replied, taking the extended glass and pouring a long sip of fiery spirits down his throat. "My temper, which I already to struggle to keep under good regulation, has been increasing with each passing day…and after the events of the afternoon, well…"
Bingley smiled at his friend with affection. "There is nothing to forgive, Darcy." He said, clapping Darcy's shoulder and steering him toward the couch where Gantry sat. "I have been similarly afflicted. These are tumultuous times."
"Tumultuous indeed, Mr. Bingley." The London gentleman agreed, organizing his papers into a neat pile so that the others could join him on the sofa. "And a rather trying day for you gentlemen, after a series of them…though for my own part, I will retire tonight very well pleased indeed."
"Do not think me ungrateful, Mr. Gantry. Mr. Collins' interview and visit this afternoon were certainly quite interesting. I do not repine you the opportunity to conduct your investigation with haste."
"Ungrateful, Mr. Darcy? Of course not! Such a thought had not crossed my mind at all. At any rate, it is I who should feel gratitude, if such a feeling should exist between us, for bringing this case to the attention of Bow Street and trusting in my methods so implicitly."
"Your idea of bringing Miss Bernard to Netherfield is not without merit, Charles." Darcy said, taking another long, slow sip. "The distance to London is negligible, there are married ladies present in your household, and Miss Bernard's need to travel, along with my connection to the Fitzwilliams…yes, this could all provide ample cover to bringing Miss Bernard to Netherfield without any having the slightest notion of her connection to the area. Should she deign to see me, I will certainly present this idea to her. But we can count on nothing…should expect nothing…indeed, I believe it would be best to conceal my reason for travelling to London from Mrs. Collins and Miss Bennet until I have given you word of my success."
Charles's brow furrowed, his lips pulling into a grim line. "I can not be comfortable with such concealment Darcy. Miss Bernard…she is their relation. You may have been acquainted with her in the past, you may care for her still, but next to these family ties, your connection to her is nothing. Why should it be you who makes decisions in this private family affair? I cannot help that feel that such interference could be viewed as officious."
Before Darcy could reply, Gantry laughed lightly. "And your invitation, Mr. Bingley – which you were ready to issue without consulting the feelings of Mrs. Collins or Miss Bennet…this plan is not officious? Darcy is out of bounds to keep his actions private, but you are within those bounds to make decisions for a family unit wholly unconnected with yourself?"
Bingley tossed back the contents of his glass and sat the empty crystal down before him with authority. He met Gantry's eyes with a steely resolve. "They are my guests. Mrs. Collins and Miss Bennet fall under my protection." Outside of Bingley's earlier ejection of Mr. Collins from the estate, it was the hardest Darcy had ever heard him.
He watched his younger friend with equal parts admiration and concern. Gone was the easy good humor of the affable chap who had befriended Darcy in university in spite of his elevated status and great reserve – that smilingly fellow had been changing slowly before him through the years, and his metamorphosis was nearly complete. It was an inevitable change, but Darcy was still sorry to see him go.
The Bingley who hotly spoke on behalf of Mrs. Collins and her sister was not the bright-eyed boy Darcy had known. No, before him sat Charles Bingley, Master of Netherfield, a man fully grown. Such a transition came to some faster or easier than others – leaving the vestiges of one's boyhood behind was a complex affair. For Bingley it had begun due to the benefits of a good education, first in childhood and later at Cambridge, where he had excelled. The expansion of his mind was then amplified from difficult introspections caused from the immense grief of losing his father. Subsequently the heavy weight of the responsibilities of leading his family and fulfilling the dying wishes of that beloved father had closed the chapter of his youth.
But something of that child left behind with Bingley, something that had held onto his friend in a way that Darcy admired. Having both experienced the loss of their parents hardly past their majority, each thrust into the role of caring for siblings as their parents would have done as untried young men, the friendly comradery that existed between Bingley and Darcy in their school days had deepened into a male bond close to brothership. Darcy, who was naturally serious even as a child, and had grown up in a rigid, stately home of the first circles, had little enough of a child's exuberance when he was young, and his transition to adulthood was hard and fast. Bingley, who grew up with siblings close to him in age and had a childhood spent mixing with children of all classes in Yorkshire, had easy, happy manners and a bright energy that life's hardships refused to extinguish. His evolution was slower, but the progress had continued steadily each year.
Before William Collins had visited at Netherfield – Charles had never faced a true test to the strength of his character. He knew that he had ben raised well, given every advantage which his father could afford – but most importantly, that he had been raised with good principles. Though their family had not been devout followers out of the usual way, but Charles believed that his father had lived the teachings of Christ more closely than many of his ministers. His father had been a good, generous man, in every sense of those words. More than just generous, he was truly warm and open, ready and eager to befriend any who came into his path. As a boy, Bingley had been enamored with the legends of King Arthur, and other tales of knighthood and bravery. Young Bingley had always envisioned his father as a noble, chivalrous knight, and himself as his faithful squire.
However, the squire travelled with the knight not just to aid him – but to learn from him. It was time now, for Charles Bingley to fill that armor. The dark happenings at Netherfield, his estate, the people who resided on his land, the guests who stayed under his roof, all his responsibility to attend to and care for. Charles Bingley was the Master of Netherfield, and such a reckoning did not sit lightly with him. No – he was changed. Grown. Ready.
Darcy, as close to him as brother, saw it. With tender pride in his voice he said, softly. "Charles, you are correct. Mrs. Collins and Miss Bennet are clearly intelligent young women with great strength of character. Whatever my feelings toward their sister…we have no tie that binds us. It is indelicate of me to step in and decide what information is pertinent to them…it is for them to dictate the boundaries of their family's privacy to me."
Charles released a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding, his bluster deflating when Darcy acknowledged his error in judgement. Charles' disposition had never been inclined to hold onto anger, especially in the face of such a sincere apology. With that release of hot air, he also quickly realized his own judgement was clouded by his heightened emotions. "Mr. Gantry is correct, too, of course." He said with a self-deprecating laugh in his tone. "Mrs. Collins and Miss Bennet are my guests, and under my protection – but that hardly gives me the right to make private decisions on their behalf. I have grown used to making such decisions for my own sisters and overstepped myself. There is but one thing to do…we must simply ask the ladies what they wish for us to do."
Gantry's eyes slid to the clock, marking the time well past the midnight hour. "I know Miss Bennet intended to sit vigil with the Reverend this evening, insisting that Mrs. Collins rest and recover her strength. I know that I am ever eager for resolution, but even I must protest at the idea of waking Mrs. Collins, or discomposing Miss Bennet at such a time in the night. After such a day as this?"
"There is no need to disturb them now." Darcy replied easily. "I intend to leave Netherfield at dawn, but I am sure that such a topic will be broached as soon as all parties involved have awoken. If Bingley will be obliging enough to post Mrs. Collins' decision express, it may only reach Mayfair a few hours behind myself."
Darcy stood, returning his glass and Bingley's to the sideboard. Bingley and Gantry rose as well, and Charles smiled tiredly, "I know you need no assurance from me on that score. Consider it done."
"I will retire now…had I decided on a course of action earlier I should have excused myself even sooner. I hope I am not putting you out Bingley."
"Good God man! I would hope that you know better of me than to press you to keep Town hours with me. I will remain awake a while longer, but you must not think twice of my needing to be entertained."
"Very well. I shall bid you both a good evening. Gantry, is there anything I can do to aid you while in Town?"
Gantry clapped his hands together with eagerness, tired eyes brightening. "Very good of you to think of it Mr. Darcy! That such a thing could have slipped my mind…I would have been dreadfully cross at the breakfast table tomorrow when I realized my great error!" He picked up his stake of papers, thumbing through the mess. "Yes…" he murmured thoughtfully; eyes locked on the pages. "There are several useful things you could do. Please, Mr. Darcy, retire. I shall stay awake just a touch longer, so that I may leave clear instructions for you to bring to London. Please read them before you leave for Town and wake me should you have any questions at all."
"I will do as you request. You know which room is mine?" Seeing Gantry's affirmative nod, Darcy extended his bow. "Slide the envelope under my door. If you have difficulties…perhaps under the cushion you were seated upon in this room?"
"That should do nicely." Gantry answered, delight at such espionage clear in his countenance.
"Then it is settled." Darcy answered. "Good evening gentlemen, I hope to return to Netherfield soon and with satisfactory results."
"God Speed, my friend." Bingley said warmly, "I wish you a safe journey and a willing audience in Miss Bernard. I will say a prayer this god weather holds for you journey."
Darcy smiled ruefully, thanked him, and exited.
Charles' eyes wandered to the clock, close to striking 1:00. He felt a lump grow in his throat. "When all are a-bed…" she had said, only hours only Gantry remained, and Charles was not sure whether he was more irritated or relieved at that gentleman's continued presence. Charles was becoming more a man with each moment that passed…but the boy still feared the moment he would cross her threshold…that the dream he had fallen into would become real, and he would know with certainty that his heart was his own no longer.
Gantry carefully watched the path of Charles's eyes traveled, his countenance betraying nothing of his knowing gaze. Bingley had been preoccupied by Mrs. Collins absence at breakfast that morning, irritated during the calls that he and Gantry had made, and in such a rush to return to Netherfield that he had ridden with reckless abandon. When Mr. Collins' cart had been spotted on the drive, he had been immediately thrown into a foul temper, barking at his servants and stomping through the house in muddy boots. Gantry had noticed his behavior with interest. He had also noticed that Bingley had entered the drawing room for tea quite delayed, and with swollen lips. Mrs. Collins had taken even longer to rejoin them, her dress plain but her cornflower eyes bright and her pink cheeks flushed.
Were the two lovers then? In the back of his mind, Gantry had been playing with this idea all night. There was certainly attraction between them, and Bingley had surely been kissing someone – that much Gantry was positive about. Bingley had been in possession of Netherfield since Michelmas…could there be an affair of some duration between Mrs. Collins and himself?
If indeed, such affair was afoot, had been afoot prior to Reverend Collins' arrival from Hunsford, that opened many questions. Could a plot exist between them? Did they intend to kill the heir under the guise of nursing him, and then dispatch of the head of Longborn himself? It was a fascinating thread to travel – full of passion and intrigue and duplicity. However, he quickly had to dismiss this idea as a fantastic one. Neither Mrs. Collins or Bingley fit the bill of a villain. Perhaps a weaker mind might have attempted to squeeze the pair into those dark roles for convenience's sake – it would explain these strange happenings in Hertfordshire very nicely, would it not? But Gantry was sharper than most, and certainly not interested in a tidy outcome for his mystery. Only the unvarnished truth might do – no matter how dull or unsatisfactory.
What's more – Gantry guessed, as he watched Bingley pick up a fresh cue and absentmindedly chalk it, whatever had occurred between his host and his beautiful guest…it had likely not been consummated. Bingley, like Gantry himself, was an energetic fellow who sometimes struggled to sit in a calm attitude. He would not have given his agitation away to anyone who knew him, but Gantry was looking for the signs. He was deep in thought, but his eyes would continually drift to the clock, seemingly of their own volition, and his feet tapped with impatience. This was an anxious, nervous young man, not some London rake ready to retire in his mistress's arms. Surely Mr. Bingley was waiting for the household to retire, and Gantry with his piles of notes to decipher, was hindering him from whatever it was he wished to do next.
Gantry was no philistine. His intelligence was too keen, his philosophy too studied, to have the same attachment to moral standards that others held onto, though he did have enough manners to keep his more libertine opinions to himself. Beyond that, Gantry had made his life's study that of criminal behavior. There were truly evil people in the world, monsters that walked amongst us as men. When one is well-versed in the world's wickedness, two young attractive people coming together outside of the bounds of marriage was a plebian notion of evil. In most cases, he simply did not care enough to even take notice of those types of scandals. However, he had taken notice of this situation, and must decide on what to do. Was he to take pity on two young lovers? Or work to keep them separated? The lady in question was after all, a key figure in two intertwining mysteries...and such an alliance could only end in heartbreak and disaster for both parties.
He was attempting to decide their fate, when Bingley spoke, shocking him.
"After some thought, I have decided to retire now as well. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable for your continued work this evening?" He moved to put the cue back on the rack.
Gantry tried to school the surprise which was written all over his face. He had been positive that Bingley would attempt to outlast his wakefulness so that he could ensure the entire household was asleep. Instead, Mr. Bingley had quite effectively told Gantry to go to bed. Well, he was the master of this estate after all. Gantry would not be a disobliging guest.
"No sir," he said with a bow. "I always have my writing box on hand, and if you are quitting this room, I shall complete my instructions to Mr. Darcy in the privacy of my bedchambers."
"Very good." Said the host, with a small gulp. "Our days have been long ones, and I imagine that things will only become more difficult before we find any resolutions to the matters before us. Being well rested is imperative."
"Quite right, Mr. Bingley." Gantry replied amiably. "I follow your lead." He added, gesturing toward the door, papers in hand.
"Forgive me." Bingley replied, surprising him again. "I must go below stairs before I retire to ensure that everything will be in readiness for Mr. Darcy's departure in the morning."
As Gantry repaired to the guest rooms, he could not help his amusement and how handily Mr. Bingley had dealt with dispatching him from his presence. He had been easily out maneuvered, and Bingley now had several hours of the night where he would be free from prying eyes in his halls. The guests of Netherfield were abed, and the remaining servants would soon follow.
For his own part, Bingley had not lied to Mr. Gantry, and he was satisfied with that. He had needed to speak with his staff regarding Mr. Darcy's early departure, loathe as was to bother his servants during the night. He was also eager to go to bed. That was true enough. Yet for all his quick dismissal of guests and dispatch of his duties, he now dawdled.
Charles stared into the embers of the dying fire of the Billiard Room, a glass of liquid courage in his hand. His mind was racing, his blood running hot with lust and his head overwhelmed with anxieties. Could Mrs. Collins still desire his presence after such an emotional day? If he went to her now…would he be taking advantage of her present distress? She was married…she could never be his…could he be an adulterer? What would his father say? To take to bed another's man wife…yet her husband was such a man! She had told Charles that she had been bound to Collins when she was barely more than a girl through no choice of her own…that kissing him had been the first choice she had ever made for her own happiness.
Should he deny her this opportunity for joy, when life had presented her with so little? He remembered the defiant tilt in her chin and fire in her eyes as he tried to deny her, to tell her she would regret their dalliance. What was it she had said then? "I rejoice in my first taste of freedom. I rejoice in having met you, Charles Bingley." Yes, those were her words. Charles wanted to believe himself a good man, a righteous, principled person as his father had been. What would his father have done in such a situation? He knew that Edward Bingley would not touch Mrs. Collins, would treat her warmly and reverently and entreat her to return to her husband's embrace with flowery regrets. But Charles had tried to do that, to do what society would consider right, to tell her gently and kindly that such an assignation could never be.
But then she had kissed him! Charles groaned aloud, recalling the heat of their embrace. The feeling of her lips on his, of her buried passion suddenly expelled, and all of it directed at him. His pulse quickened and his fingers encircled the glass in a stronger grip. "Few men," he mused, "have ever been met with such fire!" Even the best of men, the most well intentioned in all the world, must succumb to temptation from time to time. Would Edward Bingley truly have been able to reject such a beauty? He was good man and had raised his son to be one as well, but they were both – men.
Charles closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to cool his desire. Before his mind's eye floated a vision of beautiful Jane, her startling blue eyes shining bright with fresh tears. "I am only used to such…gentle friendship." She whispered to him.
It was more than her beauty, her hidden fire, the way she had thrown herself into her arms. She was beautiful beyond measure, and Charles was an energetic young man in the prime of his life. Of course, he lusted after her, for few men would not. But this feeling, this fixation, this swell of tenderness inside of him, it was so much more than that. They had become connected through grief and tears and anxiety to something far beyond mere attraction. Coming together would only solidify the bonds of love which now tethered them together…it would be pleasurable, undoubtedly, but it would be so much more. Perhaps more than Charles, the boy, was prepared for. Yet Bingley, the man, yearned for it.
He took a sip from his drink, letting the fiery beverage warm him. "Oh Jane," he murmured to the fire, full of tortured passions. "whatever am I to do?"
"Oh Charles," came a weary, feminine sigh. "I hardly know."
Charles spun on his heel, the liquid in his glass splashing across his fingertips. The room was dark save for the red embers of the fire and the flicker of the tallow candle Jane held before her. Her honey blond hair spilled over her shoulder in a long braid, which caught the glow of the candlelight. Her blue eyes looked at him in question, the proud woman who had ordered him to come to her bed hours before now soft and shy. Unthinkingly he outstretched a hand to her, and she grasped it in the dark. The candle was set on the sideboard.
He pulled her close, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. "I had not yet decided if I would come." He whispered.
Jane laid her head against Charles' shoulder, closing her eyes to savor the feeling of being held by him. "I know." She whispered back, softly and kindly. "You are too good for the love I can offer you."
"No," he said fiercely, clutching her to him protectively. "it is you who are too good Jane. You have a heart so full of love, and you share it so freely with your friends and family. It is a sight to behold."
Jane leaned into his embrace, returning his hold. "I am sorry for my forwardness. I have opened my heart to you, and, in turn, have brought you into my unhappy story. I knew there could no happy ending for us, and yet I could not still my foolish tongue. Now I have doomed you to misery, when there is nothing in this world I want more than your happiness, Charles."
His heart raced with an exuberant joy, to hear Jane Collins share words of love with him. "I am happy now." He breathlessly answered.
Jane tilted her head back, so that she could observe him the darkness. Her bright eyes sought his face thoughtfully. "Are you happy, Charles, truly?" She asked with a skeptical tenderness.
Bingley sighed heavily. "No. You're right to question me. This feeling…it is not happiness. I have had too many happy days to count. Happy is too meek a word. This…connection, between us. It is powerful, and painful, and brings me immeasurable joy though I tell myself I should feel ashamed. It is beyond mere happiness. You have bewitched me, body and soul."
Jane's pink lips parted in surprise at the tenderness of his address. She felt as if she could melt in his arms, let go of herself completely. She wanted nothing more than that…and yet…
"I should have never demanded you come to my bed, Charles. It was wrong of me to place such pressures upon you." She said quietly, flushing in embarrassment.
"Darling Jane! I pray you have not made yourself uneasy. You must know it is not a lack of desire which delayed my attending you this evening." He paused, his breath hitching. No, there was no lack of desire, only a very great fear. "I too, worry about the consequences of our union. I worry the most about the damage that will come to our hearts when we must separate…you will, eventually, return to Longborn." He paused again, and then added with heaviness, "When you return to your husband."
Jane wrenched her soft body from his grasp, and they both mourned the loss of contact immediately. "I beg you – do not speak of him, I can not bare it!" She said with emotion.
"Jane, I hate to distress you – but it is true. You are married and you will return to your husband. Any day he could demand you return to him, and you will be made to go – we have no power to stop this."
She pulled away from him further still, crossing her arms in front of her chest, suddenly defensive. "I know very well what power Mr. Collins has over me." She answered tersely.
"Indeed you do!" Bingley said earnestly. He moved to be near her, his whole heart crying out that she had pulled away. A gentle thumb caressed her arm. "You know better than anyone. You, Miss Bennet, Reverend Collins, your other sisters…he has power over you all, but none of them belong to him the way you do Jane."
With these words, Jane choked on a sob. She did not want to cry again this day, could not fathom how she had any tears left at all. He was soon pulling her back into his embrace, and Jane fell willingly into into Bingley's arms once more. He held her delicately, if at any moment she would disappear into nothing. "Jane…darling Jane…I hate to upset you. I will speak of that man no further, not now, when our time together is so fleeting."
"It is fleeting…is it not?" Jane asked with a watery smile, caressing the lapels of his coat. "I feel as if Netherfield has been suspended in time until this afternoon, when my husband came, and now it all rushes by."
"If it were in my powers, I would suspend time forever, and hold us in this moment."
"But that is not in your powers, Charles." Jane said with soft feeling, looking up at him through thick, wet lashes. "All we have is the time before us. We can seize this moment, make the most of it, or let it pass us by. That is our choice."
Charles felt the tension of the moment in every inch of his body. His hands itched to touch her, his lips burned with the need to taste her skin. His mouth had gone completely dry as she looked up at him with love and desire. What was a man to do? It was impossible to remember his own objections when she was so close and looked at him so.
And then…lips. Jane pushed herself onto her tiptoes and pressed her soft mouth against his cheek, gazing him softly. Instinctively, his head turned to capture that sweet mouth in a searing kiss. He had not meant to kiss her again. He had meant to be the bigger man, the better man, the chivalrous knight who needed nothing more than a token of his lady's affections. For the sake of both their hearts…he was determined to be virtuous.
Yet his mouth now danced with hers, despite all these intentions, these noble beliefs, and his hunger for her grew. Her eager passion matched his own, and their hands explored one another with earnest excitement. They stumbled together, making their way to the sofa, fumbling in the darkness, whispering endearments of an impossible, inescapable love.
Author's Notes: Thanks so much for your continued support. Please be safe and well during these strange times. Stay home and read!
Thank you to commenters who gave me their thoughts regarding story summaries - I have not adjusted mine yet, but after having read your comments I intend to do so! If you would like to attempt to write a summary of Dancing on Hedgerows, please feel free, one reader did one that I may end up using.