Thanks for your the feedback, FatPatricia515. That was what I was trying to achieve, although I'm still not sure if I've pared it back enough. Should we be a fly in the wall during the interactions between Darcy and Finn?
The chapter title "Like attracts like" was suggested by Laura SaintYves
Chapter 12 Like attracts like
After the crisis of the evening, Jane improved rapidly, though her cough was very bad. On Mr Jones' next visit, he pronounced himself pleased with her progress. Though he thought she was out of danger, he recommended further bedrest until the phlegm was cleared from her lungs. He also suggested she get up occasionally, provided she did not feel dizzy, to improve her circulation. Thus it was on Saturday evening that Jane came down to the withdrawing room for tea, for the first time since the onset of her illness.
Elizabeth supported her sister's elbow as they entered the room, but Mr Bingley, who was standing with his back to the fire, raced to their assistance. He claimed Jane's other arm before encouraging her to sit down in the chair closest to the fire. Lizzy was really gratified by his solicitude, which stood in stark contrast to the behaviour of the others in the room. When Jane coughed, Caroline even took a step backwards and covered her mouth with her handkerchief.
In consequence of Jane's appearance, Mr Bingley refused to rejoin the card table after tea, much to Hurst's disgust. Charles chose instead to stand beside Jane's chair. He began an amiable conversation, which Jane was only well enough to reply to in monosyllables, but she delivered each of these with a smile and Elizabeth soon added her mite to redress the deficiency. They laughed and joked about all the social functions they had enjoyed together and the discourse soon arrived at the promised Netherfield ball, which Charles immediately began to plan.
Caroline, whose overwhelming boredom with country living had prompted her several days ago to begin discussing with Louisa their return to London, now looked at her sister in alarm.
"You cannot be serious about this ball, Charles? You need to be back in London to attend to business by the end of the month."
"I can easily ride to London and back in a single day to sign a few documents, Caroline," said Charles. "As for the ball, I want to put on a real show. I wish it to be talked about for months to come, years even! I know you are equal to it!"
"But Charles!" protested Caroline. "You cannot have thought this through! I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure."
"If you mean Darcy," cried her brother, "I cannot see why he should object to a ball, despite his unsocial tendencies. He prefers the darkness to light and dances better than any of us. He should excel at balls! Come Darcy, admit you only pretend to dislike balls because they do not fit your otherwise studious character!"
"Whatever you say, Charles," said Darcy, embarrassed his aversion for light had become the topic of conversation and hoping no more of his unusual tendencies would come under scrutiny.
"I do not think your business in London can be achieved in one day, Charles," said Caroline. "Indeed, you had better take Mr Darcy with you. I am sure he can give you all manner of advice on how you might do things better."
"Caroline, I am eternally grateful for the advice Darcy has given me about the estate," replied Charles; "but as to the mills in the north, I have managed them well enough until now and I am sure Darcy does not wish to be bothered with them."
"If nothing else," continued Caroline, determined to get the upper hand, "you should take note of his penmanship. He has the most wonderfully even hand, whereas you are all blots and scrawl. It looks like a spider has crawled over your page!"
"Two spiders!" chorused Louisa.
"What does it matter?" replied Charles cheerfully. "If my man of business understands it, it has served its purpose. If my next letter should arrive in the best English Roundhand, he would probably think it a forgery!"
As the audience to this family argument, Elizabeth was rather puzzled at first, for she had assumed the well written letter from 'Charles B—' that she had seen in the study had been from Mr Bingley. She at first wondered if his sisters were joking, for the script she had seen was superlative. But when Louisa ran to the secretaire to extract a letter that her brother had been composing and exhibited it to all and sundry in support of Caroline, Elizabeth realised she had been mistaken. Mr Bingley's hand was truly execrable.
Bingley blushed, laughed and ripped the sheet in two, throwing it into the fire, much to Caroline's consternation—for she had been hounding him to reply to his man of business for two days.
He then distracted his sisters by requesting some musical entertainment. Caroline was quick to reclaim the piano and rather than play an air like her brother had requested, she immediately launched into Mozart's Turkish March—for Caroline had heard that although Miss Elizabeth's performance on the keyboard was mediocre, her singing was superlative, and Miss Bingley was keen that she not be given a chance to display her voice at Netherfield.
Miss Bingley's talents were not taxed too long. Jane's stamina was still not great and she was visibly drooping as Caroline played. Thus on the final note, Elizabeth stood to applaud Caroline's performance and immediately suggested that Jane return to bed.
Mr Bingley got up to escort them out and finding Jane weaker than he liked, offered to support her arm up the stairs. This, Caroline could not like, but when she offered to take her brother's place, Bingley pointed out that Mr Darcy's teacup was empty.
Charles thus got the Bennet sisters out the door without further interference and closed it behind him. Elizabeth retrieved a branch of candles from a console. But when she would have taken Jane's other arm, Mr Bingley put his fingers to his lips and silently scooped Jane into his arms. Jane was too weak to protest and Elizabeth, seeing that her sister was close to collapse, was immediately remorseful that she had encouraged Jane to come downstairs. Clearly her sister had not been ready for it.
Although Mr Bingley was almost as tall as Mr Darcy, he was slight, and Lizzy at first thought Jane would be too much for him. But he carried Jane manfully up the four flights of stairs. As he was wearing only his shirtsleeves and waistcoat, Elizabeth was able to appreciate his shoulders were very square—not fashionable#, but wonderfully strong. When they reached the guest floor, Lizzy thought Mr Bingley might put Jane down, but he asked Elizabeth if she would mind getting the door and carried Jane all the way to her bed. Elizabeth threw back the covers and after settling Jane on the sheets, Bingley bowed respectfully and bid them both good night.
Meanwhile downstairs, Caroline had been forced to refresh the teapot with more water from the kettle on the hearth in order to refill Mr Darcy's cup. She had little time to be suspicious of her brother's absence before he returned to the room, adjusting his breeches, as if he had detoured to the chamberpot. Her query on his long absence was met with a raised eyebrow and an obscure comment on 'a fellow not being able to do anything in private', which seemed to confirm the nature of his business.
The conversation soon reverted to the ball. Just as it was devolving into a family argument, Darcy got up, removed a cigarillo from his waistcoat, and excused himself.
Upstairs, Elizabeth had helped undress her sister and was preparing herself for bed, all the time apologising to Jane for overtaxing her. Lizzy realised that her selfish wish to be gone from Netherfield had tempted her to see more progress in Jane's condition than had actually been the case. Jane heard the bulk of her sister's mea culpa without comment, but eventually was moved to stretch out her hand to her sister to silence her. Lizzy grasped Jane's hand and laid her head against it, then quickly finished changing into her nightdress and blew out the candles, snuggling up to her sister who had already fallen into an exhausted asleep.
Sunday morning saw the Bingleys go off to Meryton for church. Since arriving at Netherfield, they had been attending the eleven o'clock service, as suggested by Sir William Lucas. It was longer and more elaborate than the early morning or evening services and generally avoided by the bulk of the lower classes in the town. Caroline had extended a perfunctory invitation for Elizabeth to join them on the evening before, which Lizzy had declined in favour of staying with her convalescing sister.
After the Bingleys left, Jane fell back to sleep and Elizabeth went out to walk in the rose garden. As she wandered the paths, she caught sight of a pigeon returning to the newly constructed dovecote on the south side of the house. Although they had eaten squab once since she had come to Netherfield, she could only conclude from the size of the new structure that it must be a favourite of the Bingleys. She was continuing her walk, enjoying the sunshine and not wanting to return to the house, when she observed, from a distance, Mr Darcy's valet emerge from the study and approach the dovecote. He was, as usual, dressed very fashionably in clothes almost as fine as his master's, though more restrained, probably to preserve the distinction of rank. So it struck Elizabeth as rather odd when he climbed the ladder and began fishing around inside the dovecote to retrieve a bird. As he faced towards her to lean against the upper rungs of the ladder, Elizabeth saw he was wearing an apron to protect his clothes. Having retrieved a pigeon, he held it for some time—stroking it, she thought at first—but when he put something in his apron pocket and returned the bird to the dovecote she was truly puzzled. Perhaps he had plucked out a feather? A better nib could be got from a goose.
The valet climbed down and turned back towards the house and herself. As he neared her, Elizabeth took a couple of steps into the shade of a tree so that she might continue to watch him unobserved. He had taken an object out of the pocket of his apron and was fiddling with it. He seemed to extract something from it before returning his hand to his pocket, but in doing so, the object fell to the grass. He ran up the steps and disappeared through the French doors into the study, seemingly oblivious of his loss.
Elizabeth ran to the base of the steps to see what had fallen there and found it to be a small leather carrying case. Turning it over, she saw it was a harness for a pigeon and immediately realised that Mr Darcy must keep carrier pigeons. She had hitherto thought them only the province of sultans and rajahs. Clearly it was honourable to return the lost harness, but Lizzy did not like to knock on the study door, lest Mr Darcy answer it himself—for she knew he had not gone off to church with the others. Mr Bingley had explained quietly that Darcy was not much one for religion when Caroline had invited her to accompany them to church yesterday evening before dinner. As Mr Darcy had not by then yet walked into the room, Elizabeth had not been able to cheekily enquire directly why he was so averse to worship, and the opportunity to do so without impertinent curiosity was gone by the time he did walk in, for the topic of church had passed.
So Elizabeth laid the harness on the balustrade, where anyone emerging from the study door would see it, and walked along the terrace to return to her sister. But she had only gone a few steps when she heard the word 'Damn!' escape through one of the study windows that was slightly ajar. She could only conclude that Mr Darcy had not been best pleased with his communication and wryly thought he would have better gone to church, to educate his mouth.*
Inside the study, Darcy was seething with frustration, pacing up and down as he read his letter.
"What does he mean 'he cannot find it in anyway unpalatable'? It is as clear as day!"
"Perhaps the vials were mislabelled, sir?" offered Finn.
"Impossible!" expostulated Darcy before coming to a stop, having finally read something that met his approbation. "Ah! But he does go on to say that he agrees they taste different but 'that it is no more than different varieties of grapes!' Heaven preserve me! Must I collect yet more samples to prove my point?"
Finn sighed unhappily as he removed the apron he had been wearing. An unaccustomed frown creased his brow. "Perhaps..."
"What?" asked Darcy testily as he discarded the letter to the mantel and picked up a singlestick.
"Perhaps, we are looking at it the wrong way, sir. Perhaps, the two groups are different, which the count concedes, but it is a matter of taste—you find this additional group unpalatable, but he does not. Perhaps it is not just a property of the samples, but also of you?"
Darcy grunted dismissively. "Are you suggesting there are different types of us?"
"Perhaps," said Finn, rolling up his shirt sleeves. "I have been thinking of your conversation with Miss Elizabeth of alchemy. Did you not say that she warned you not to throw the baby out with the bathwater?"
"You have lost me, Finn. Of what relevance is that?"
"Perhaps it is a question of compatibility? If you can discern different types, then we must all have different types and perhaps you and the count also. What if you are attracted to that which is more like your own? Is there not an alchemical principle that 'like attracts like'?" asked Finn picked up the other singlestick and adopted the customary pose, his left hand shielding his head, facing his master en garde.
Still cogitating Finn's conjecture, Darcy took the first swipe. "Rubbish!" he concluded emphatically.
Then they went at it hammer and tongs. Darcy did not hit with full force, enjoying merely the thrust and parry of the sticks. Nonetheless, Finn's breath was rather ragged by the time he heard the Bingleys' carriage returning and conceded, though Darcy had barely worked up a sweat. Still, despite his valet's shorter stature, Darcy realised that Finn was a far worthier opponent than Bingley.
"All the years you have worked for me, Finn, why did you never tell me you were so skilled at singlestick? Here I have been, jauntering about in search of opponents, when my valet is a most worthy adversary."
"I am not as good as Colonel Fitzwilliam, sir, and it was never necessary until your daytime excursions became restricted."
"Yet, you still did not volunteer till Netherfield. Admit it, you got tired of watching Bingley's clumsy moves."
"I am sure he is a far better businessman than sportsman," commented Finn diplomatically.
"Oh! The backhanded compliment!" smiled Darcy. "Finn, I applaud you! Never a nasty word from you, is there?"
"My sister would not agree, sir," laughed Finn as he put the wooden swords away.
Darcy retired to the fire to read the Bible until he should be called for lunch. This he did every Sunday in place of church services, for his aversion was not for religion, as he had implied to Bingley, but to light. He had regularly attended the evening service at St George's, Hanover Square during the first winter after returning from the continent. At Netherfield, the gap had been filled by the rector of Pemberley, who had provided him with a list of readings for private study.
But Darcy's mind soon ceased to concentrate on the words in front of him and returned to ponder Finn's theory of the unpalatable groups. At first, Darcy could not conceive that it could be so, but by the time he was called to the dining room, he was willing to concede that Finn might be onto something. Still, Finn's idea potentially tallied with some of the observations—perhaps further refinement would yield the answer; Darcy jotted some notes on his ivory tablet and returned to his reading.
When the Bible in his lap reminded him that he was supposed to be observing the holy day, Darcy dutifully finished his chapter and laid the Bible aside. His mind drifted to his other special group, the one that was the opposite of unpalatable and contained only Elizabeth Bennet. What could be the basis of that?
Footnotes
sloping shoulders were considered by the upper classes to beautiful at the time, possibly as a means of denigrating bodies honed by work.
#English Roundhand is a style of cursive writing characterised by an open flowing script and subtle contrast of thick and thin strokes deriving from metal pointed nibs, developed in the 1660s primarily by the writing masters John Ayres and William Banson
'damn' was considered a sufficiently bad swear word that you will find it written as d— in Northanger Abbey when it issues from Mr Thorpe's lips.
Pinterest captions
[1] it was on Saturday evening that Jane came down to the withdrawing room for tea, for the first time since the onset of her illness.
[2] Mr Bingley, who was standing with his back to the fire, raced to their assistance
[3] Caroline, whose overwhelming boredom with country living had prompted her several days ago to begin discussing with Louisa their return to London, now looked at her sister in alarm.
[4] "Whatever you say, Charles," said Darcy, embarrassed his aversion for light had become the topic of conversation and hoping no more of his unusual tendencies would come under scrutiny.
[5] If my next letter should arrive in the best English Roundhand, he would probably think it a forgery!"
[6] Louisa ran to the secretaire to extract a letter that her brother had been composing
[7] Caroline was quick to reclaim the piano and rather than play an air like her brother had requested, she immediately launched into Mozart's Turkish March
[8] Elizabeth retrieved a branch of candles from a console.
[9] Mr Bingley put his fingers to his lips and silently scooped Jane into his arms
[10] Elizabeth was able to appreciate his shoulders were very square—not fashionable#, but wonderfully strong
[11] Caroline had been forced to refresh the teapot with more water from the kettle on the hearth
[12] Jane heard the bulk of her sister's mea culpa without comment,
[13] Elizabeth went out to walk in the rose garden.
[14] she caught sight of a pigeon returning to the newly constructed dovecote on the south side of the house
[15] Finn picked up the other singlestick and adopted the customary pose, his left hand shielding his head, facing his master en garde.
[16] Then they went at it hammer and tongs
[17] Darcy retired to the fire to read the Bible until he should be called for lunch.