Page 40 of Most Truly the Gentleman

He laughed and promised most faithfully that he would.

Longbourn’s knocker sounded long before visiting hours. Why, the family had stood up from the breakfast table little more than a quarter hour before. Mr Collins was upstairs writing to his patroness, but Mr Bennet had not yet even retreated to his study, still occupied with the paper and with peering over it at his youngest daughter, who had followed her mother into the parlour after the meal. In but a moment, Hill opened the door to the room and Lady Lucas bustled in.

Elizabeth looked to her father, who had narrowed his eyes at his youngest daughter, but he did not send her upstairs. Lydia’s hoydenish behaviour since the arrival of the militia had allowed the neighbourhood to accept without much speculation his choice to remove her from society, but if he were to send her away from even the unexpected call of an old family friend, enquiries might begin which could unearth the incident they had striven to keep secret.

“Well!” the lady exclaimed. “Here’s a to-do! Poor Miss Harrington!”

“Why, what has happened to her?” Kitty cried. “Has there been an accident?”

Mrs Bennet shooed Lydia out of the chair next to her own so that Lady Lucas might sit and tell all. Disgruntled, but just as eager for gossip as her mother, Lydia flounced across the room and dropped into the chair at Elizabeth’s left hand with a huff.

Lady Lucas settled herself, saying, “Oh, my dear girl, if only it had been an accident!” She accepted the cup of tea Jane offered her and took a sip, seeming to enjoy the suspense she had generated.

“Ah, perfect as always. One can count upon a good cup of tea at Longbourn,” she pronounced, then set the cup aside and declared, “Miss Harrington was spied in an embrace with an officer!”

Elizabeth’s breath caught as she instantly apprehended that it could as easily have been her sister’s name in that declaration as the other girl’s. Lady Lucas nodded sagely as many in her audience gasped. Elizabeth’s mother fanned herself with a handkerchief and cried, “Another scoundrel in their ranks! Pray tell, which officer?”

“It was Mr Danvers. He and Miss Harrington are to be married as soon as the banns may be called.”

“See, Papa!” Lydia exclaimed. “If only you would let me go about as I used to do, I should catch a husband as well! If that little twig Susan Harrington has secured an officer, I certainly can.”

Mr Bennet fixed his youngest daughter with a look of scorn. “Had you no sisters whose futures would be harmed by your actions, I should be very tempted to let you try. Lady Lucas, would you be so kind as to spell out to Lydia why you entered speaking of ‘poor Miss Harrington’?”

“Why, his salary is but twelve pounds per quarter! And Mr Harrington says his daughter will not have a penny beyond the three hundred he has set aside for her dowry, as he is set on sending young James to Oxford next year. I have told Mrs Harrington that her daughter may come to Lucas Lodge at any time to learn from my cook, as hers is not very good.” She seemed to think very highly of herself for this piece of generosity.

“No cook,” murmured Mrs Bennet in horror. “Poor Miss Harrington. But pray, why does he have so little?”

“Because that is a militia lieutenant’s salary, one presumes,” drawled Mr Bennet. “One also presumes that his family does not make him much of an allowance to supplement it.”

Mrs Bennet sat slack-jawed and stunned at this information; Elizabeth hoped it might induce her to rethink her notion that the presence of the militia was a fine opportunity to rid herself of a daughter or two.

Lady Lucas was eager to supply more information. “He is the son of a country clergyman, who took the place of the son of a local gentleman in the militia. It is not to be expected that his family sends him anything at all.”

Kitty made a little sound of distress, and Jane hastened to find some good in the situation. “At least Miss Harrington is accomplished at sewing,” she offered hopefully. “She will be able to stretch her funds by making her own dresses.”

Mary, who was soon to wed a man whose income, inclusive of tithes and profits from the glebe lands, was easily thrice that of Mr Danvers, said, “With the addition of the interest on her dowry, if they are frugal, they should be able to send their washing out.”

“One certainly hopes so. I doubt she will be able to learn cookery and laundry in less than a month,” Lady Lucas replied.

Seeing that Lydia also appeared dumbfounded, and thinking this might be a moment in which she would listen to what she was told, Elizabeth leant over and whispered to her, “If there is anything you would like to ask, Lydia, I will answer you honestly.”

Lydia seemed to struggle for a moment, but curiosity won out. “Twelve pounds seems a vast sum to me. I should be happy to get half as much each quarter. Why is everyone speaking as though she will be very poor?”

“She will not be very poor, but she will be poor compared to what she is used to. Woodvale brings in but a third of what Longbourn does, or thereabouts, and yet that is sufficient to provide her with many comforts. They will have his twelve pounds and three in interest on her dowry each quarter. From that, they must pay for their lodgings, their clothing, their food, and his uniforms, which are no small expense. They will pay for paper and ink if they wish to write letters, and postage to receive the replies. A cook might cost them a third of their income, and a maid about a tenth. If they both practise economies, they will do well enough to send out their washing, as Mary said, and have some entertainment. But if he wishes to spend on ale and gambling, as some men do, her life will be very hard.”

Lydia was chewing on her lower lip, eyes narrowed, sunk in thought. Happy that her sister had not instantly denounced everything she had said, Elizabeth left her to her musings.

26

DARCY’S DECISION

The Harringtons were, of course, absent from the dinner at Haye-Park the following evening, but their names, and Miss Harrington’s in particular, were on everyone’s lips. Mrs Harrington had already sent notes around to announce that the family would not be hosting the musical evening on the eve of Christmas, and hearing of this, Mr Bingley impulsively announced that Netherfield Park had a fine instrument in the drawing room, and they were all invited to gather there.

Elizabeth was in conversation with the three younger gentlemen of Netherfield, Jane, and Charlotte at the time, and even from across the room, she was in no doubt of Mr Bingley’s sisters’ displeasure with his amiable generosity. She did, after a moment’s reflection, admit that it was a little unfair to Miss Bingley to obligate her to make the arrangements without consultation, and in only four days’ time. However, as it was likely that if approval were left entirely in Miss Bingley’s hands, none of the neighbourhood would have ever seen the inside of the house during the whole of his tenancy, she could not really blame him.

“Do you know the Harrington family well?” the colonel asked the ladies, when the general acclaim surrounding Mr Bingley had subsided and the original conversation resumed.

“As well as any other in the area, I should think,” Charlotte replied. “They have been here since Mr Harrington’s grandfather sold his brewery in Watford to purchase Woodvale Hall. We all grew up with Mr James Harrington and his sister.”