And where was he now? In a small, insignificant little hamlet in Hertfordshire, some twenty-four miles from London, at the request of his friend, Charles Bingley. Early this past summer, Mr. Darcy had promised to join Bingley at Netherfield, Bingley’s newly leased estate, to look it over and help Bingley learn something about estate management.
Bingley was Mr. Darcy’s closest friend. While Mr. Darcy had any number of acquaintances, true friends like Bingley were as rare as unicorns; he would not renege on a promise made to such a friend.
Mr. Darcy knew he was doing the right thing for his friend, and he certainly always tried to do the right thing whenever possible, but just now this was cold consolation. It had seemed a simple enough task, when he had said “Certainly, Bingley” in response to his friend’s request, but now it felt like an enormous burden. He felt like Atlas, lifting the entire world on his shoulders.
But he had promised Bingley to look over the estate and give an opinion, and that is what he would do. More than that, though, Mr. Darcy was beginning to think that perhaps being alone was not good for him. He had occasionally found himself wondering if he would be able to live with this new burden. What harm might he do to himself if he decided that he could not?
It did not promise to be an easy or pleasant visit. Mr. Darcy had been greeted at the door of Netherfield by Bingley and Bingley’s youngest sister. He had been able to persuade both of them that he had a dreadful headache and should be left alone in his room to recover in peace. Miss Bingley had fluttered her ginger lashes at him and told him that she had a family recipe guaranteed to cure even the most painful of headaches, and she would have a maid bring it to him directly. Too dispirited to argue with her, he had simply nodded.
Miss Bingley had clung to his arm as he made his way up the stairs, saying something about an assembly to be held that night, but that she did not relish the entertainment. He could not make heads or tails of it and, frankly, did not care to try.
She almost followed him into his room, but managed to recollect herself in time; she curtsied to him as he closed the door, shutting her out. If only he could shut out his own thoughts as easily.
Once inside the room, he sank down onto the bed. He thought about Georgiana, recollecting – yet again! – how hehad found her at Gretna Green, and the scene that had ensued. He was not surprised to find his hands shaking as he relived it; this happened anytime he thought of it.
Chapter Two
Mrs. Bennet was delighted at the prospect of meeting the new tenant of Netherfield Park at the assembly. Little was known about him, other than the two most salient facts: first, that he was single; second, that he was wealthy. About his looks, his character, his preferences – all this was yet to be discovered.
She was pleased to see that all her girls were in their best looks for the occasion. Even Mary had been persuaded to borrow a gown from Lizzy and let Jane style her hair. Jane was the best-looking, of course, and most likely to catch their new neighbour’s eye, but there had been a rumour of another wealthy gentleman staying at Netherfield, and he would do very well for one of her other girls.
Mr. Bennet had elected to stay at home for the evening, which suited everyone involved. He did not enjoy social occasions and had a bad habit of insisting that everyone return home when the assembly was not nearly over. This did not sit well with his daughters, other than Mary, of course, who was always happy to come home early.
Mrs. Bennet had a good number of last-minute instructions for her daughters, which she imparted as the Bennet carriage made its way to the assembly hall. “Jane, look at gentlemen when they speak to you. No-one wants to talk to the top ofsomeone’s head, no matter how pretty that head may be. Lizzy, you are pretty enough, but you talk too much. Smile more, talk less. Mary – try to sparkle a little. If Lizzy would speak less and Mary would speak more, I should be very content. Kitty, that dress is toodécolleté; pull it up a bit. Yes, that’s better. Lydia, I noticed that you consumed too much of the punch at the last assembly; no gentleman wants to see a young lady exercising a preference for strong drink.”
When the carriage reached the assembly hall, Mrs. Bennet was glad to see that they had arrived before it had become too crowded. She did not want her girls to be squeezed into the back of the room where they could not be seen. She stood on tiptoes, hoping to see this Mr. Bingley, but she was not a tall woman.
“Kitty. Kitty!”
Kitty turned to her. “Yes, Mama?”
“I cannot see over all these heads; is Mr. Bingley here?”
“I do not know, Mama; we have never met him, so I do not know what he looks like.”
Mrs. Bennet sighed in exasperation. “Very well; do you see any strangers, anyone you do not know, Kitty?”
Kitty obediently scanned the assembly hall. “No, Mama.”
“Hmph. Girls, come to the front of the hall; I want Mr. Bingley to be able to see you.”
Jane, Mary, Kitty and Lydia obeyed her summons, but Elizabeth had already disappeared.
In fact, immediately upon entering the hall, Elizabeth had left her mother and sisters in search of her good friend, Charlotte Lucas. Charlotte tended to sit on the sidelines, so that her lack of dance partners would be less noticeable; Elizabeth liked to sit beside her, providing Charlotte with company.
“Are you planning to sit beside me the whole night, Eliza?” Charlotte demanded as Elizabeth took the seat beside her. “You should be dancing.”
“Iwilldance, Charlotte, of course; but I am unlikely to enjoy a conversation with a dance partner as well as a conversation with you.”
“Change your tune, Eliza, or you may end up an old maid like me.” Charlotte’s voice was melancholy.
Forehead creased, Elizabeth said, “I wish you would not speak so, Charlotte.”
“I only speak aloud what everyone thinks, and this makes people uncomfortable.”
“I do not believe this is what everyone thinks,” her friend protested. “It is more likely everyone understands that you have not yet met anyone worthy of you.”
Charlotte had to smile at that. “I hope you are right, Eliza. You are a good friend to me.”
