"…Happy to say he would never actually consider me as a future wife. And if he did, I should be obliged to refuse him. Have no fear that I am your competition, Miss Bingley."
Mr. Darcy stopped in his tracks. He always did when he heard Miss Elizabeth speaking. She sent his heart racing. He hated listening at doors, and he wanted to move away, but his heart held him still as could be. She was ready to refuse someone's proposal. But who's? He did not even know he was holding his breath until Miss Bingley finished speaking. Apparently, the ladies thought they were competing for his affections. He smiled until he heard Elizabeth's response. She was clearly not expecting his proposal.
He thought he had been ignoring her to not raise her hopes. He smiled again. He could enjoy her company again. He could enjoy the thrill of debating with her again. He did not need to ignore her. She had no designs on him.
He moved away before he could hear any more. As the saying goes, no one listening at doors ever hears good of themselves. He had already pushed his luck by hearing that tidbit, and he dared not risk hearing more.
Returning to the library, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Instead of reading the book that lay in his lap, he imagined several topics of conversation that would please him at the dinner table.
He had only moved three pages when there was a knock at the door and the object of his thoughts entered. "Excuse me, Mr. Darcy. I was hoping for a book to read to Jane."
Mr. Darcy stood and bowed in greeting. "I take it Miss Bennet has recovered then."
"Her fever is gone, and she is resting easily. She is more bored from being bedridden than anything at the moment. I do not envy her being bedridden for a month. I could never last longer than a week at most as a child."
"Did you often need to remain in bed as a child?" He asked, moving towards her and observing her profile as she browsed the meager selection.
Elizabeth blushed before responding, "I had a few scrapes that Mr. Jones was adamant I should remain abed. I have found that walking lightly keeps the muscles more active and helps heal the ankle better than full bedrest. I broke an arm when I was six and Mr. Jones had to construct a splint that I could not wriggle out of as I kept sneaking downstairs when everyone was asleep to take a walk. I disrupted his splint four times, and once nearly broke my arm further. Jane has far more patience than I ever did."
"You keep up your daily walks as a way to prevent you from becoming restless." He schooled his features to remain steady as he envisioned a way he could help relieve her restlessness if he should simply stop resisting his desires. She was not a proper candidate for Mrs. Darcy, and he would never offer anything else. He was so lost in his thoughts that he missed her inquiry. He mumbled a quick, "of course" and hoped that was the proper response.
Elizabeth nodded and moved farther away. She finally stopped in front of a section of poetry.
"You like to read poems." He stated, hating that he could think of nothing better to say.
"It has its uses." She responded flatly, pulling on one spine only to put it back and move towards another.
"You are not a fan of poetry." He stated the obvious again. If he could have kicked himself without her noticing, he would have. Surely he could think of better conversational material.
"I do not believe in the sentiments expressed." She turned to look at him with a scowl. "However, the plays on words do amuse me and keep my mind active to find the hidden meanings. Jane prefers the lighter poems, and she sent me to search for some." She selected three books from the far end of the shelf. "This will do. I shall leave you in peace, Mr. Darcy. At dinner, perhaps we shall discuss the merits of poetry, if you wish."
Mr. Darcy watched her walk away, delighted that she had invited him to join her discussion at dinner, knowing that she must think of him as a friend. He turned to the shelf and attempted to remember which books she took. Then he dashed to his personal library to find similar books and eagerly set to preparing for a lengthy discussion at dinner.
"You sound so sure of yourself." Elizabeth eyed him carefully. "Did you study your poetry this afternoon? I remember seeing one of Burn's books on Mr. Bingley's shelf."
"Mr. Darcy has an excellent memory and rarely has need to study." Miss Bingley declared. She got most of what she wanted. He turned to her, but his stare was more of confusion and she could not detect any affection, though she desperately wished to. "You study for your own amusement, and you are quite good, I mean to say."
"Your praise is unwarranted, I assure you." Mr. Darcy said carefully. "While I cannot say that I studied poetry this afternoon." He nodded as he turned his attention back to Elizabeth. "You did inspire me to search out some of my favorite poems. However, I should believe you are deliberately distracting me. You have not defended your perspective. I am eagerly awaiting your response. Why do you believe love cannot make someone more verbose?"
"Perhaps a simple response will do. Love does not increase knowledge of the words. That takes practice."
"But surely love can inspire someone to use words long since hidden in the recesses of their mind."
"Very well spoken, Mr. Darcy. See, Miss Elizabeth, what happens when you argue with such a sound mind as Mr. Darcy. There is no way to compete. Perhaps it is time for us to withdraw to the music room and let the gentlemen smoke and drink to their hearts' content. This way, you do not need to think of a response that would surely be lacking."
Both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy stared at Caroline Bingley as though she had sprouted a second head. Realizing she had blundered and upset Mr. Darcy, she could do nothing except follow through on her words. She rose abruptly, followed by her sister. Miss Elizabeth nodded to Mr. Darcy with a few quick words, "I would hate for someone who loved me to turn into a different person because of that love. How would I know which was the real person? We cannot be true to ourselves if we do not behave as we always would. I shall await your reply while I attempt not to ridicule myself by playing for Miss Bingley."
"I expect only the most determined cynic could find fault with your playing." Mr. Darcy bowed his head as she turned around quickly to hide a blush at his response. She was utterly bewildered that he would pay her so fine a compliment. He had listened to her conversation throughout the meal. Even her father would have tired sooner. The only male conversant with whom she had spent so much time engaged was her uncle in Cheapside. She smiled as she thought of Mr. Darcy's likely reaction to being favorably compared with a tradesman.
"You are amused, Miss Elizabeth." Miss Bingley spat out. Though she would have preferred to stay with Mr. Darcy, it pleased her that she had at least pulled Elizabeth away from him.
"And you are not, Miss Bingley." Elizabeth turned to face her host as they continued walking to the drawing room which housed the pianoforte. She would not allow Miss Bingley to discompose her by prying into her thoughts.
"It is hard to believe that you have no designs on a particular gentleman when you attempt to garner his interest at every turn."
"It would seem so, I suppose. The desire for engaging conversation could not be a simple enough rational to you. Then again, I cannot explain why he was so animated. Perhaps he had received a particularly pleasant letter from his sister." Elizabeth shook her head, baffled as to Mr. Darcy's eager attention. If she had not heard from his own lips that her appearance was barely tolerable, she might have thought he did harbor an interest in her.
Miss Bingley released a dramatic sigh; relieved Elizabeth did not confess to an attraction. "Perhaps. Miss Darcy is a very faithful correspondent. She writes to all her true friends most prodigiously."
"And what did she tell you in your latest letter, Miss Bingley?" Elizabeth enquired politely. Then, she turned mischievous as she added, "Does she complain that her brother is overbearing and refuses to allow her to buy a new gown? Perhaps she talks of ways he used to show his affection for her such that you now can tell when he is sincerely affected."
"No, of course she would never divulge such personal information." Miss Bingley nearly stopped in her tracks, such was her feeling of offence. Truth be told, she had never had such an intimate conversation with anyone other than her own sister. She began to wonder if a friend could have such a conversation. Then again, her friends were members of the higher social circles and would never behave as Miss Elizabeth would. The thought gave her comfort. She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed Elizabeth's next words.
"A pity that is, for you would do well to heed her advice should she give it."
"While I would always listen to her advice, Miss Elizabeth, why do you suggest I am in need of it?" Miss Bingley could not prevent a huff of frustration.
Elizabeth huffed in frustration. She always strove to not be rude, but there was no other way around this conversation. If there was to be any peace between them, she must help Miss Bingley see the error of her current predicament. "Because you wish for him to propose to you, and you seem intelligent enough to realize your current approach is not working. Even you cannot deny that he barely notices you except to be civil."
Miss Bingley's huff was more pronounced. She almost whined as she defended herself. "He only needs more time to see that I am a good mistress of Netherfield. He is very particular about Pemberley's care, and he will only choose a bride that will match him in abilities on an estate as well as among the highest circles of society."
Elizabeth laughed and turned to Mrs. Hurst casually to change the topic of conversation. When they entered the music room, Mrs. Hurst, who had no idea how to be a part of the conversation, moved quickly to the instrument and began playing. This left Elizabeth practically alone with Caroline. Determined not to be rude again, Elizabeth moved to a sofa farther away from the pianoforte and began to sew a small dress she had brought from Netherfield. Thankfully, Miss Bingley kept to her own council.
Caroline paced between her sister and Elizabeth in silence, clearly torn between hating Elizabeth for being an object of admiration to Mr. Darcy (though Elizabeth still doubted the veracity of Caroline's claims) and considering using Elizabeth's insights to better her chances with Mr. Darcy.
When the gentlemen entered, Caroline still paced at the center of the room, a small bead of perspiration on her forehead marking her distraction. Mr. Hurst quickly took a seat on a sofa by the fireplace and closed his eyes. Mr. Darcy chose to stand by a window as though he had no interest in singling out any of the ladies. Elizabeth almost thought he seemed upset, though she could hardly account for why he should be upset.
Caroline misread his stance and moved to the window, pleased that he had chosen a place she could be close to him without risking propriety. She looked around to find the others engrossed in their own pursuits before coming as close as she dared to Mr. Darcy and whispering as low as she could, hoping this would be a flirtatious manner, that she was very glad to have his company once again.
Mr. Darcy furrowed his brows as he stared out in the darkness. He pretended not to hear his friend's sister as he realized he needed to move before Miss Bingley got any more ideas. With as much nonchalance as he could muster, he turned away from Caroline and moved to sit where he could hear the pianoforte well and see Elizabeth. "What is that you are working on, Miss Bennet?" he asked politely.
"It is a dress for the Westcott's baby. They are tenant farmers of Longbourn of long standing who are having a rough time since their older boys decided to join the war efforts and their father broke his leg. Poor little Janie has not had a new dress in quite some time, so I mean to put this in the Boxing Day basket. Jane's hand is far neater than mine, but we all try to add something to each basket." She turned her attention back to Caroline. "Miss Bingley, even though you do not own Netherfield, have you considered making baskets for the Netherfield tenants? It has been so long since they have received any special notice other than a small bonus from the steward. It would go a long way to solidify your standing in the Neighborhood."
"I…" Caroline stammered.
Mrs. Hurst cut them off by asking why no one even noticed she had finished playing her song. "…as though baskets for the poor are more important than fine entertainment." She stammered under her breath, even though everyone could still hear her.
Elizabeth coughed to cover her astonishment at such rudeness. "Though you are but leasing the house, I presume you would show your fitness to be mistress of an estate by taking an interest in the tenants. If they do better, then the estate will earn more. If they are unhappy, they may look elsewhere for a new tenancy that has more to offer. It is a very serious job for the mistress of the house to use Boxing Day as a chance to give non-monetary assistance to families to make them feel valued. It goes a long way towards improving morale, which is currently sorely lacking at Netherfield as it has been empty for so long."
While Miss Bingley looked as though Elizabeth had suggested she ride naked through the fields, Mr. Darcy was pleased with her statement. "That is very sound advice. Indeed, I was very pleased that Georgiana took over the baskets two years ago, with the help of Mrs. Reynolds and her companions." Darcy paused a moment as he remembered Georgiana's previous companion who had been a disaster and had nearly led Georgiana into ruin. "At his father's request, Bingley began looking for an estate to purchase, though he is about as determined as could possibly be, which is not saying very much. He may simply continue to rent the house and leave his children enough money to purchase an estate. He would prefer not to bother with seeing to all that is required."
The assembled party turned to Caroline, who held her nose in the air carefully as she came to a decision. "I have heard Georgiana mention the pleasure she had preparing her baskets, and I have looked forward to the practice this year. I suppose we shall venture into Meryton and purchase toys for each of the children. Though I would not purchase items for myself at such a small village, there is sure to be plenty that would suit the tenants."
"There are ten families at Netherfield, though there is room for about 5 more families if the owner would repair the houses so they could be filled." Mr. Darcy stated the facts as he knew them.
Caroline looked askance. "That is a lot of baskets."
"And toys." Elizabeth agreed. She felt bad for Caroline, who had clearly not thought of this aspect of being mistress of a home. Coming from trade, she would not have learned from her parents like most ladies. Such a menial task would hardly be discussed in London drawing rooms during the season. Indeed, it was barely mentioned in Meryton's drawing rooms. On impulse, she decided to give Miss Bingley a chance at redemption. "Miss Bingley and I decided earlier today that we would work together this week to find out what the families most needed. While it is not her duty at present, she is determined to become a fine mistress of any estate that had need of one."
"The practice is commendable." Mr. Darcy nodded. He always sought to relieve the suffering of the poorer classes in Derbyshire. His tenants were always well cared for.
Caroline rallied. "Yes, we are to go out this week to determine everything necessary. The Netherfield tenants will be thrilled to have baskets with all the best of everything they need."
"Not quite the best. They are, after all, a proud lot. They have worked hard for what they have and have no need to be shown what they cannot afford." Elizabeth gently admonished. "The personal touch of plain hand-sewn dresses that can be worn often, for example, can go farther towards increasing happiness than a purchased fancy gown that will be too pretty to be worn." Attempting to change the topic, she described the sweets and breads that would also be added to the basket, and asked Mr. Darcy what his tenants would receive this year.
"My mother would always prepare the baskets almost the same. One piece of clothing for each young child. One loaf of something and two jars of jelly. Sweets and legs of venison or lamb perhaps for a feast. Then she would add one special gift, like a carved statue, or a vase for flowers, that would set each family apart from the others and show her special consideration. The vases would be talked of for years, even after she died. I have not mentioned it to Georgiana, for preparing 40 baskets is daunting enough without having to think of so many special gifts."
"Perhaps when you marry, your accomplished wife will have all the time necessary to see to the task." Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy carefully, wondering if he even knew what he wanted in a wife. He remembered the list he and Miss Bingley had prepared before, but this had not even been mentioned, yet this conversation showed that he clearly knew it to be important.
Miss Bingley strutted happily that the conversation was going so well, and she sat down beside Mr. Darcy with a smile for him. "Your wife will be perfect in that respect and know exactly what to do. While Elizabeth and I are out, I am certain we shall come up with several special gifts that will be adequate for the poor tenants."
Mr. Darcy bristled at the thought of taking a wife, especially with Miss Bingley looking at him with that predatory smile. Not knowing another way out of the situation, he stood quickly, and said to the room at large, "I think I shall retire. It has been a very long day after a short night of rest." He left before anyone could even rise to bid him adieu.
Elizabeth laughed lightly when the door was shut behind him, but she did not elaborate, and Miss Bingley was learning not to enquire as to what was so amusing. Instead, Caroline sat beside Miss Elizabeth and observed the dress that was taking shape in her hands.
"Your sewing needs work to be considered beautiful."
Elizabeht laughed louder as Mrs. Hurst closed the instrument and joined the others, annoyed that no one had been listening to her even after her outburst.
"I am not nearly as neat with a needle as Jane, who has the patience of a saint. It would not get me a job in a seamstress' shop on Bond Street, but it will bring a bright smile to little Janie's face, and that is all I am aiming for with this dress. You will meet many people this week, and you must strive to show them you care for their wellbeing, or they will distrust you. They might even consider moving estates to a more established tenancy if they do not feel at ease with you."
"My sister is a delight wherever she goes." Mrs. Hurst nearly shouted at the indignity.
"Of course." Elizabeth said sweetly as she tucked her sewing away in a basket at her feet. "Mr. Darcy was correct to retire, as we are all more exhausted than we let on. I ought to check on Jane and I am feeling the lack of sleep from the previous evening. If you would excuse me, ladies. I shall bid you a restful night." She rose and nearly made it to the door before Caroline spoke again, "Must we visit all 10 families in one day?"
Elizabeth laughed at the petulant look on Miss Bingley's face. "No, it would be exhausting, even for my rambling habits. Perhaps you would prefer to ride. I am no rider, but I could probably manage if you would prefer it."
"Not a horsewoman!" Caroline's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Mr. Darcy loves to ride and would never seriously consider a woman who could only walk."
Elizabeth laughed again. "Our previous conversation is gaining more evidence, it would seem." She bid them an easy night once more and left before more could be said. She heard sniggering through the wall and wondered how the two ever managed to keep friends in London.
AN: Well, here it is, nearly a month in the making. Many thanks to my beta who took the time to read this so that you would not have quite so many errors to contend with. The rest of the errors are my own fault.
Thank you for all the well wishes in the reviews. It has been a hard couple of months. We are all doing well in our new situation, and we have nearly dealt with all the legal and financial matters that come with a death in the family. Time to move forward.
School is vamping up for testing season, then the end of the year season. I'd say this is the busiest time of the year, but every part of the year seems to fit that description for one reason or another. It certainly is the most emotionally distracting time of the year.
I hope you are all well and healthy. May the next chapter come to me soon. I appreciate all of your reviews telling me which parts are your favorite and which parts make you smile.