Teaching Eliza, page 2
“You shall not join the matchmakers, Bingley! Is that understood? But yes, thank you. I shall accept your kind offer of asylum in the country, and look forward to visiting Netherfield.”
~
Darcy and his cousin had been pleased to accept Bingley’s invitation to his country estate, and within days the three men were galloping across the fields towards Netherfield Park. The sun was warm on his shoulders, despite the growing chill of autumn, and Darcy was pleased to be out of the confines of his self-imposed solitude in the city. “It is good to ride,” he announced to the air, certain that his friends would not hear him as they tore across the meadows.
After a time, Bingley pulled his horse to a halt at the top of a rise of land and gazed out across the open countryside with a satisfied smile. “What think you?” Bingley presented the scene with a sweeping motion of his hand. “The vista is most pleasant, is it not?”
“Most pleasant indeed,” the colonel replied. “I understand now your obvious satisfaction in your choice, as well as your suggestion to ride these last few miles cross-country.”
“Aye,” Bingley’s voice was smug. “The carriage can take the roads with our trunks. This is my preferred manner of travelling.”
Darcy could not help but agree. “This is a most pleasant prospect. I was also pleased to be out of the carriage.” He wondered if his friend had heard his silent admission after all. He surveyed the lands around him with a practiced eye. “The land seems prosperous. Tell me about the neighbourhood.”
Bingley was pleased to comply. The closest town, he explained, was Meryton, home to a small but vibrant community of wealthy merchants and country squires. The men had ridden through its streets on their journey, and they nodded as Bingley described its prominence in the area. “The closest house of any importance is Longbourn,” he crowed, “home to my angel, Jane, and her four sisters. Our properties abut, but the manor houses lie three miles apart.”
“Very good,” Colonel Fitzwilliam supplied. “You will be happy here, I believe.” He straightened and stretched his neck to better see something in the distance through his one good eye. “Is that a stream yonder? It looks a fair spot to do some fishing. Let us ride some more.”
Bingley’s chosen route led the men across the bubbling brook and then along the boundary between his estate and the Bennets’. Pulling once more to a stop, Darcy commented absently that Longbourn seemed to be a fairly prosperous estate, but it also carried a faint aura of neglect, as if the master of the estate were happy to enjoy the riches of his land, but cared little for improving it for future generations.
“Does the landowner not ride out across his property?” Darcy peered across an expanse of field from atop his horse, then set off in a gallop towards a rather poorly maintained stretch of fence. “See here,” he explained when Bingley and the colonel had caught up with him, “this small stream marks the boundary between Netherfield’s extent and Longbourn’s. Here, where the fence is on your side of the stream, it is well tended and newly painted. But there, where it is on Longbourn’s side, the planks are half rotten and the boards poorly attached to their posts. One good gale and the fence will be down.” He dismounted and leapt across the small stream to further examine the run-down structure. With a gentle tug, he pulled a board clean from its posts and held it up to Bingley. “This is what you must watch for on your own estate, Charles. It may seem trivial, but it is symptomatic of the general health of the estate.”
He returned to his steed and swung up in an easy motion. “You must know the man,” he turned to Bingley, “if you are to marry his daughter. Why should he care so little for his family’s land?”
“That is the crux of the matter,” Bingley glanced back across the fields, “for the land is not truly his. That is, the estate will not go to his family. It is entailed, so my Miss Bennet tells me, to a distant relative. He is the son of Mr. Bennet’s rather despised cousin, and since the daughters will not be able to inherit, Bennet sees little reason to impoverish himself to enrich the usurper.”
“I see,” Richard shifted in his saddle. “The daughters, then, will be left without a home.”
“Perhaps, but they need not worry, for I can take care of them all once I marry dear Jane,” Bingley smiled.
Darcy huffed. “Be sure the lady likes you, Charles, and not merely your fortune. Whilst you and I are very different, I would not have you wedded to one who seeks only the security of her family.”
“She likes me, Darcy. Grant me the ability to discern the sincerity in her heart. You have not even met the lady and already you are casting her with the parade of young women you seek to avoid in London.”
The colonel brought his horse alongside Bingley’s, nodding his agreement. “My cousin is rather unforgiving in his nature. If you fancy her, and she you, what ill is there in being able to give her the peace of mind of knowing that her mother and sisters should not starve were they to lose their home?” He slowed his horse and turned towards Darcy. “Let us wait to meet the girl, Fitz, and then decide about her.”
Darcy grunted.
Laughing, Richard turned away and shook his head, then squinted into the distance. “I say, Bingley, is that your acquisition?” He pointed to a manor house at the far edge of wide pasture.
“Indeed!”
“Very fine! Onward men!” Richard spurred his mount and began racing towards the house.
Darcy shook his head with a wry smile. The colonel managed his horse better with one eye than many men could boast with two, and Darcy was proud to be able to keep up with him on most occasions. A dash of childish competitiveness overcame him and he took flight as well, hoping to catch his cousin. He was aware of Bingley racing behind him, but his singular goal was to catch Richard. Yes, perhaps this sojourn in the country would be very good for him indeed.
Grinning with the rush of adrenaline that accompanied the gallop, Darcy closed the distance between himself and Richard, slowing only when he rounded the final bend in the drive, mere feet behind his cousin. Then all at once his unaccustomed satisfaction was destroyed by the sound of a familiar and most unwelcome voice singing from across the expansive drive. He glanced up to confirm his fears, and was greeted by the sight of a very pretty young woman standing at the entrance to the house, eyes fixed firmly upon him.
“Caroline Bingley!” he groaned under his breath, and immediately turned his horse towards the stable hands ready to take possession of the steed.
“Charles!” he sneered as his friend rose up and dismounted, “Why did you not tell me Caroline was here? Your sister is hardly conducive to my peace of mind. Surely you must have known…”
But his words were cut off by the woman’s overly-effusive greetings, and all further conversation was necessarily delayed. Richard cocked his head in question, but Darcy merely scowled and whispered, “Later.”
It was, so it turned out, much later indeed that the men were alone once more. Caroline had gushed over them, proudly shown them their rooms, paraded around the house, commented ceaselessly about her skills at managing a household, and finally led them in to a rather more substantial dinner than any of them had the appetite to consume. Richard said everything polite and pleasant, but Darcy, misanthropic and generally ready to be put out by all events, merely glowered.
At last the meal was over and the sun had set, and the men had escaped to the billiards room, a much-welcomed bastion of masculine solitude. Bingley’s butler had brought up a rather fine claret from the cellars, and as he stared into its ruby depths, Darcy levelled his accusatory gaze at his friend and asked once more, “Why did you not tell me Caroline was here? She is one of the husband-hunters I had wished to avoid!”
Richard swirled his own wine in the firelight as he asked, “Miss Bingley seems a genteel lady, and seemingly fond of you, but not you of her. I beg you, Fitz, to explain matters.”
Darcy put his glass on the mantelpiece and paced around the room as he spoke. “Charles’ sister, attractive and accomplished though she may be, is one of the many women who aspire to be Mrs. Darcy,” he informed his cousin, “and she presses the matter more than most. Forgive me for speaking so bluntly, Charles, but you know this is so. I do believe, in her mind, we are as good as already wed.” Bingley waved away his concerns. “The way she talks, one would imagine her to be most intimately connected to me. She and I have no interests in common, nor can we speak more than two words to each other, but she manages to look past our glaring incompatibility and reflects only on how fine it would be to be mistress of Pemberley.”
“Now Darcy,” Bingley interjected, “surely she is not that bad. She does like you, although I admit she is somewhat taken with your wealth. She would not be a bad wife…”
“Merely a selfish one, and one whom I would ever be forced to avoid. No, I’m sorry to say this, Bingley, but she hopes in vain.”
“Might she be convinced to play your betrothed, Darcy?” The colonel leaned forwards over the billiards table and lined up a shot with his cue. “The more I think on the matter, the more I believe that Bingley’s idea of creating an amour for you is not a bad one. I know I have teased you mercilessly, but you must admit it has some merit.” He rubbed his fingers across his freshly shaven chin and returned to his claret.
“Not a chance, Richard. She would not accept the illusory nature of it, and I would likely find myself bound hand and foot and dragged into a church by my boots were she to get the notion into her head.”
“She is a most elegant lady, though,” the colonel let his eyebrows rise, “and more than pretty too. Is she that bad, Darcy? Would she be interested in an old soldier, recovering from his wounds?”
The colonel rose and moved towards the mirror above the mantel. “See, my hair is trimmed and my face shorn of that awful beard. I am not so bad a catch. I may not be quite the handsome gallant the ladies dream about, but I am the son of an earl and am quite presentable, I do believe. I should disgrace no woman.” He ran a hand through his neat hair and let his fingers rest on the patch that still covered his injured eye. “Even this scrap lends me a rakish charm that the ladies admire, do they not?”
“Alas, Colonel,” Bingley sighed, “as drawn as she might be to you for your proximity to nobility, she will not settle for anything less than a title or a fine estate to manage. Your pitiable situation as a second son leaves you with little to attract her interest.”
Richard laughed. “In truth, that is well, for if I were to wed below my exalted station, what little income I have from my family would surely be denied me. I am glad to know, then, that should I ever find myself fortunate enough to draw a lady’s eye, her affection will be for myself and not my fortune.” Bingley joined the laughter.
Darcy merely scowled with a huff.
“Save the foul mood for tomorrow night, Darcy, for we are to go to the village assembly. I mentioned as much in the carriage as we left London.”
“I had forced myself to forget,” Darcy groaned.
“You tease me! We shall go, and we shall enjoy ourselves, and you shall meet my Jane! Colonel,” he turned to his other guest, “You at least will join me, will you not? You are much more sociable than your dour cousin.”
“Without reservation, Bingley! I should be delighted to join you. I have been promised pleasant company, and where better to find it than at an assembly?” The colonel stood and executed a rather elegant bow and chasse step. “Besides, I have not had the pleasure of dancing in a long while. There was precious little dancing in the barracks in Kingston, and none on the ship. As well,” he teased, “as much as I admired the men who served under me while I was in command there, I felt little desire to hold any of them in my arms as we twirled around the tent to the sounds of mosquitoes and drums.”
“Was there no local society?” Bingley asked as he moved backwards to make room for the dancing colonel. “Surely there were good men and women in the town, some of whom might enjoy some entertainment of an evening?”
“I do not know what the society there did for their balls, but I heard hardly a melodious sound all the while I was on the island, save for the songs and drum beats of the native and slave populations.”
“Aye, but every savage can dance,” Darcy looked down his nose.
With little regard for his cousin’s disdain, Richard continued on enthusiastically about his hopes for the assembly.
“Darcy, you will come as well, of course,” Bingley said when the colonel had finished. “No, no, that was not a request. I know full well your preference to stay at home and do… whatever it is that keeps you from society, but that shall not be tolerated. You are my guest, and as such it is incumbent upon you to grace the assembly with your presence, if not your winning smiles. Besides, I would have you meet my angel. You will like her, Darcy, I know you will. There is no artifice in her at all. She is all that is sweet and good. And please, make no disparaging comments on the country fashions and manners. I have enough of that from Caroline.”
Charles beamed, and his good nature almost seeped through Darcy’s stony edifice. “Yes, yes, very well, Charles. I shall come. But I cannot guarantee that I shan’t offend. I have a remarkable talent for giving offence wherever I go, and as much as I may strive otherwise, I am almost certain to do likewise at your assembly.”
“That’s my cousin,” Richard muttered. “Always optimistic and ready to enjoy himself.”
Darcy’s eyes cut to his cousin. “Don’t say I did not warn you.”
TWO — THE ASSEMBLY
~
A VERY DIFFERENT CONVERSATION WAS underway in the manor house at Longbourn. Elizabeth Bennet stood by the mirror in her sister Jane’s bedroom, watching as Jane sat before her and pulled the silver comb through her hair. Jane was all anticipation to attend the upcoming assembly, and she talked eagerly on the subject. Her aim, Elizabeth knew, was to find yet another opportunity to be with Mr. Bingley, and Lizzy was hard pressed to find a reason to dissuade her. “Here, let me help you with that tangle, Jane,” she offered as she took possession of the brush and guided it through the slight knot left over from Jane’s morning hairstyle.
Jane was particularly lovely, this Elizabeth had always known. She regarded her sister as she smoothed the tress of hair and began plaiting it in preparation for the style to be attempted this evening. Jane’s features were fine and regular, with the glow of youth and a classical symmetry that would mature into ageless beauty. “You look exceptionally pretty tonight, Jane,” she cooed as she twisted the plait. “It must be love that adds the sparkle in your eyes. Mr. Bingley will not be able to take his eyes off of you.”
Jane blushed and lowered her gaze. “You look very nice tonight too, Lizzy,” she insisted. “I imagine there will be more than one gentleman at the ball who would be only too pleased to have his eyes upon you.”
Lizzy laughed as she regarded her reflection in the mirror. Although she lacked Jane’s graceful height and classical poise, she privately quite liked her rounder figure. Not the Grecian ideal that was Jane, she was nonetheless still very pretty, or at least she had been called so in the past, despite her mother’s disapproving remarks. You spend too much time in the sun, Lizzy, and will grow brown and freckled. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head and she chuckled at the notion. Look at Jane, so perfectly suited for candlelight, as a lady ought to be. Why can you not be more like Jane?
“What are you laughing at, Lizzy?” Jane’s voice roused her from her private amusement. “You will come tonight, will you not? I know you wish to answer Aunt Gardiner’s letter, but I need you by my side. If he speaks to me tonight, I shall not know what to say if you are not there to guide me!”
Lizzy smiled indulgently. “Oh, Jane, what is there to say but what your heart tells you? Do you love him?” Jane nodded enthusiastically. “Then what can you do but accept him? The whole village is waiting merely for you to smile before we all begin with the celebrations.”
“Then you will come?”
“Yes, dearest, I shall come. No one shall dance with me, and I shall have to spend all evening trying to make polite conversation with Mrs. Long, but yes, I shall come.”
Jane turned her head away from the looking glass and half-whispered, “Mr. Bingley is bringing two guests this evening. They came down from London yesterday to stay for some time. One, I heard tell, is a colonel lately from the islands of the West Indies. If he is at all pleasant company, he might provide some entertainment.”
This caught Elizabeth’s interest and she felt her eyes widen at the prospect. “Indeed! That might very well be amusing! And who, pray tell, is the other?”
Jane paused for a moment, then replied, “I am not certain. A friend, I believe. I have only heard the news from the village, and we know how those stories can vary from truth! Some rumours have it that he is a man of some fortune, but others suggest that he has taken employment as a teacher somewhere, so that cannot be so. But he, too, might be an interesting partner in conversation if not in dance.”
“Very well then, Jane!” Lizzy smiled happily, “you have quite convinced me! I shall come and enjoy myself immensely, and if your Mr. Bingley should take you aside, I shall endeavour to make certain that no one disturbs you.”
The sisters continued their preparations for the dance, and the subject turned to that of the letter from their aunt. “Tell me again, Lizzy, what Aunt Gardiner wrote. Can she have truly meant it?”
Aunt Gardiner was wife to their mother’s much younger brother. She was only ten years older than Lizzy, and the two had developed a friendship that went beyond the familial affection of aunt and niece. Mrs. Gardiner, in turn, had cultivated a similar friendship with her own brother’s wife, a lady now of nine and twenty years, and during Lizzy and Jane’s frequent visits to the Gardiners in London, the distant relations had met and decided that they rather liked each other. Mrs. Grant—for that was the brother’s wife’s name—had taken fondly to the two elder Bennet sisters and had suggested for some time that the girls have a season in Town as her particular friends.
