Page 12 of Regrets

“I see,” Mr. Bingley said, nodding his approval. “That makes a good deal of sense.”

The tour revealed a beautiful home, nicely decorated, with elegant and comfortable guest rooms, and large suites for the family. Each suite had a freestanding copper bath, an ornate mirror on the wall, and a walnut vanity.

The kitchen boasted the new-fangled Rumford fireplace, as well as a good number of large wooden tables and cupboards. Braddock introduced the cook, Mrs. Tamsworth, another long-term resident. “We were hired on the same day,” Mrs. Tamsworth said, as she curtsied to Mr. Bingley and Mr. Stanley.

“As was Mrs. Hammond, our housekeeper,” Braddock added. “Let us see if we might find her in the housekeeper’s room.”

They did indeed, and Mrs. Hammond was pleased to think that Mr. Bingley might lease Netherfield. “The neighbourhood is always happier when the house is occupied,” she said. “It is the principal house in the neighbourhood, followed by Longbourn, which is just three miles from here.”

A tour of the tenant farms was next, and it was clear that the owner’s concern extended even to his tenants, as the cottages were in good repair and the inhabitants content enough. “Still,” one man mused, while fussing with his hat. “It is better when the big house is occupied.”

“I like everything I have seen,” Mr. Bingley declared, as they headed back to the house. “And now I should like to see the lease.”

They repaired to Mr. Philip’s office, where he produced a copy of the lease that had been used in the past. Mr. Bingley read it over carefully. He had, after all, been trained by his father and knew what to look for. “No changes to the décor, eh?” he asked.

“No,” Mr. Philips said, shaking his head emphatically. “One tenant redecorated the entire house in the Egyptian style. We were all quite horrified, and poor Mr. Rochester was put to a good deal of expense to return it to its former state.”

“Egyptian!” Mr. Bingley shuddered. He had seen a good deal of it in London, and Caroline had begged him to let her redecorate their town house similarly. He thought it everything horrible! Tables with alligator legs, crocodile motifs around the fireplace, sphinxes peeking out at you from the sideboard! No, thank you very much. He spent several minutes reading over the lease, word by word, before nodding and looking up.

“May I see the lease?” Mr. Stanley asked.

Mr. Bingley passed it to him, saying, “I see nothing at all wrong with it.”

Mr. Stanley perused it carefully, and said, “I agree; it is quite a standard lease.”

“The lease is for just one year; what if I wish it for a second year as well?” Mr. Bingley asked.

Mr. Philips shrugged. “That will depend entirely on Mr. Rochester. He may be ready to return to England by then. I can make no promises in that regard.”

“I understand,” Mr. Bingley said. “Very well; I shall take it. I have affairs to settle in London, but I shall move into Netherfield Park before Michaelmas. I will send a note when I have an exact date.”

Chapter Eleven

Lady Catherine was in a temper. Her servants did their best to avoid her at times such as these, but it was not always possible. She swept into the drawing room, frowning, and summoned Mrs. Cheshire, her housekeeper, at once. “Dust!” her ladyship proclaimed. “How is dust permitted in the drawing room?”

Mrs. Cheshire saw no dust whatsoever, but long experience had taught her how to deal with Lady Catherine on days such as this one. “I will have it taken care of at once, your ladyship,” she said, promptly.

“And have the entire house cleaned, top to bottom!” her ladyship ordered.

“Of course, your ladyship,” Mrs. Cheshire said. She curtsied and departed to go downstairs, where she ordered all the maids to rush around the house waving dustcloths with great energy.

Mrs. Jenkinson received word of the mistress’ tantrum from Mrs. Cheshire, and she went at once to Anne’s room to warn her of her mother’s mood. Anne went at once to find Georgiana. “Tread carefully, Georgiana; Mother is having one of her fits.”

“Fits?”

“She is upset about something and is taking it out on the servants. We had best just stay out of the way.”

“What could she possibly be upset about?”

Anne shrugged. “It could be anything; we will find out soon enough.”

***

Oddly enough, it was Mr. Collins who provided the answer. He came to visit his patroness and Mrs. Jenkinson suggested that they all go downstairs as well, so as to make at least an attempt to deflect her ladyship’s temper from the poor clergyman.

Georgiana wrinkled her nose. “Who better to bear her tempers than her parson?”

But Anne agreed with Mrs. Jenkinson, and so down they went.