Page 35 of Most Truly the Gentleman

Mrs Bennet, keenly attuned to all matters which might affect her style of living, was utterly horrified by this news. As she shrieked about the selfishness of young people, and declared that Elizabeth and Kitty would just have to do without new gowns next year so that Lydia could be properly attired to catch a husband, Mr Bennet walked in, still in his riding clothes.

“What on earth is all this commotion about, Mrs Bennet? I could hear you shouting from the entry.”

“I did not shout. Ladies do not shout!” she shouted, offended. “My sister has brought us news of Nathan Ward absconding. Whatever shall we do without the Wards? Is there any possibility of finding another tenant during the winter? How reduced will our income be by his self-serving actions?”

“Not so self-serving as you assume, Mrs Bennet,” he replied with clear amusement. “Young Mr Ward was not insensible of the difficulty to his family in pursuing his own desires. In his farewell letter, he stated plainly that his absence would allow his sister to marry her beau. I was called to the Wards’ to approve of the plan, and so I have.”

Jaws dropped around the room. Elizabeth was delighted and amazed by the simplicity of the solution. Jenny Ward and Tom Davies had been courting for above a year, but could not marry because Mr Davies’s tenancy on one of Netherfield’s farms would fall to the eldest, Michael, in time, and he could not afford to supply his second son with the tools and livestock he would need to secure a tenancy of his own.

“How absolutely wonderful for them all!” Elizabeth exclaimed, recovering her wits a bit faster than the others. “Tom Davies will be an able assistant to Mr Ward in the short term, and a worthy tenant for Longbourn in time, and he and Jenny will be able to wed so much sooner than otherwise. And young Mr Ward is going to sea, as he has wished since he was a boy.”

“A most elegant solution,” Mr Bennet agreed. “I commend him for it, particularly as it cost me only a morning away from my books.”

Bingley returned to Netherfield with his sister’s letter to Miss Bennet. Calling his friends to his study, he handed the page to them without comment.

Darcy read her words with disbelief and anger. She had toyed with the reputations of his young sister and her own brother, and to what purpose? To injure an innocent young lady who, had Miss Bingley’s scheme of keeping Bingley in town succeeded, might never have met with him again? For it was certain that having bent Bingley to her will once, she would have found reason to prevent him from returning to his leased estate ever again, and likely succeeded in that scheme also. Could she be so lost to all but her own ambitions as to coolly calculate that if rumours were to arise from these statements, she might be able to use them to secure a marriage between Bingley and Georgiana, highly advantageous to the Bingley family, if not palatable to either of the central parties? He could neither convict nor acquit her of it.

“This is contemptible,” Fitzwilliam spat.

“It is,” Bingley agreed in clipped tones. “I intend to reprimand Caroline most harshly, and very soon. I only wished to first present you with this litany of lies and half-truths, and to learn whether there is anything either of you, as Miss Darcy’s guardians, particularly wish that I should convey.”

“You may tell her,” Darcy said, his temper hanging by a frayed thread, “that she must not expect any future invitations to any of my homes, and that while I shall not cut her in society for your sake, I shall henceforth grant her only the civility due to a distant acquaintance.” Bingley accepted this with a nod.

“I have nothing to add,” Fitzwilliam growled, clearly displeased.

“I apologise for my sister’s behaviour,” Bingley said quietly. “If either of you, or indeed both, determine upon reflection that any association with the Bingley family is unpalatable to you, I will understand.”

“For my part, I have no wish to end our friendship,” said Darcy.

“Neither have I any quarrel with you or the Hursts, Bingley,” Fitzwilliam assured him.

“I am grateful to you both for your forbearance. Now, if you will excuse me, I think I must no longer delay speaking with my sister.” He stood, reclaiming the letter and tucking it into the pocket of his jacket. “I will return this to you before the day is done, to dispose of as you wish.”

23

COLONEL FITZWILLIAM'S PREFERENCE

When their party assembled to travel to Lucas Lodge, the only ladies in attendance were Darcy’s sister and her companion. Bingley explained briefly that Miss Bingley was unwell and Mrs Hurst had elected to remain at Netherfield to comfort her.

Though Georgiana offered some polite words of concern, Darcy knew it must be a relief to be spared Miss Bingley’s company for the evening. He had told his sister, not long after the gentlemen’s conference in Bingley’s study, how Miss Bingley had tied her name to his friend’s in service of a design to keep Bingley in London. He had feared that her fragile self-confidence might be once again shattered by betrayal, but though Georgiana had clearly been upset, she had confided that she had never felt Miss Bingley’s friendship was genuine. Her dismay stemmed entirely from the fact that, having been so narrowly saved from the scheming of Mr Wickham, she had once again been made a pawn in the intrigues of others. Yet she had refused his reluctant suggestion that they return to London and pass Christmas with the Fitzwilliams instead.

“I was fully aware that coming here would require me to endure Miss Bingley. The fact that I now like her even less is not enough to change my mind,” she had assured him. “I will have Mrs Annesley with me whenever we ladies are alone together, and Mrs Hurst is tolerable for the most part. Miss Bingley will not overset me, Brother, and I shall look upon this as practice for having to associate with those I do not like when I am out in society.”

Though he was not entirely easy with keeping Georgiana under the same roof as Miss Bingley, he was relieved that they would remain. His concern for his cousin and Miss Elizabeth had not abated—indeed, the looming possibility of a scandal for the Bennets only increased it—and leaving now would have required him to give up any hope of influencing the situation, should it tend in an unfortunate direction.

They were welcomed at Lucas Lodge with all the bonhomie the master of the house could display. His delight overflowed into mirth as he encouraged them to treat his home quite as their own. The drawing room was filled with small tables where groups of two to six could sit down for games, while in the dining room, the sideboard groaned under the weight of cakes, sandwiches, pickles, tarts, and trifles, and another table offered wine, sherry, a steaming bowl of cider, and a chilled bowl of punch. Across the hall, the parlour stood open, ready to receive those who preferred conversation to cards, or merely wished to sit with a drink for a time.

Georgiana was swiftly claimed by Miss Kitty, who pulled her into a group of young ladies. There were some officers present but Wickham was not among them, so Darcy set aside his instinct to hover and joined his cousin and Bingley, who were speaking with the three eldest Miss Bennets, Miss Lucas, Mr Samuel Lucas, and Mr James Harrington.

“I see you are keeping a careful eye on your sister,” Miss Elizabeth said, smiling knowingly. “Kitty is terribly excited to see Miss Darcy again. You need have no concern; they are all good girls, and the worst they may do is ask her too many questions about her gown or her home.”

“Georgiana has been extremely shy all her life, and only recently has she learnt some confidence. I will not easily break the habit of worrying about her comfort in company, I fear.”

Her smile widened, and it was all he could do not to display a reaction to the corresponding increase in her beauty. “You are an excellent brother, I think. Miss Darcy is very fortunate.”

He hardly knew how to reply. “You give me too much credit. I merely follow the example of my own parents as best I can. And of course, I have the assistance of my cousin and my aunt, without whom I should surely have made a dreadful hash of things.” He thought briefly of Wickham, so near, and how close his own silence on that distasteful subject had come to costing him the person dearest to him.

“I believe I shall retain my opinion,” she said cheerfully. He thought she must be in a great deal of suspense, waiting to be certain that her sister’s misstep would not be revealed, but she seemed determined to hide it. There was, perhaps, the merest hint of strain in her smiles. Now that two days had passed without a whisper of it, he was beginning to feel that they had succeeded, but her anxiety, naturally, would be slower to dissipate.