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“There will be ladies aplenty at Rosings Park, I am sure,” Caroline said lightly. “Mr. Darcy, you are all graciousness towards us. I knew you would not wish to be parted from your dearest friends at Christmas time.”
“I suppose I can open up Netherfield in the spring,” Bingley muttered. “We can certainly go to Netherfield for Easter?”
“Hertfordshire will be all in bloom in spring,” said Caroline. “Netherfield will be so quaint.”
Mrs. Hurst nodded, her mouth being too full to speak.
“Good shooting at Easter,” said Mr. Hurst.
They discussed the travel arrangements—Mr. Bingley’s chaise-in-four and Mr. Darcy’s Barouche box would be sufficient for transport—and decided upon the day of departure and the time. Darcy had not yet written his aunt to tell them that he was coming for Christmas after all so that he need only add that he was bringing guests to the letter. The manor house at Rosings was so large he knew there would be no difficulty accommodating them.
Bingley accepted the adventure stoically, if not with enthusiasm. Darcy, for his part, was cheered to have his friend at Rosings with him for Christmas. He was less sanguine about the others; Caroline Bingley in particular grated upon his nerves.
It would be good for Georgiana too, to have some familiar faces other than Lady Catherine and her daughter, Anne. It would help her relax and put her at ease to be with people she knew very well and was comfortable with. Caroline, for all her faults, could be attentive to Georgiana and smooth her path socially if she wished.
The party also resolved to go to Netherfield for Easter. This was to placate Bingley and also to be agr
eeable to Darcy, for he insisted very forcefully that it was an excellent idea.
By then, he would have, he believed, Pemberley on a more solid financial footing. With luck, he’d be on the way to more than compensating for Georgiana’s settlement.
And Miss Elizabeth Bennet would be at Longbourn. Darcy was more optimistic about Bingley’s chances with her elder sister then he was at his own, but Elizabeth was an intelligent and perceptive person. Although she had none of the advantages of Caroline Bingley—who had gone to a fine school in London, and had had the benefit of an array of tutors and instructors—she was nevertheless in possession of a superior mind.
Darcy recalled a joke Elizabeth had made when he and Elizabeth had encountered Caroline and Mrs. Hurst upon a path at Netherfield. The path was not wide enough for the four of them, and Darcy had suggested that they take a broader path to permit Elizabeth to join them. Elizabeth objected, saying she had no wish to spoil the grouping, referring, Darcy knew, to the grouping of three cattle favored by the landscape artist, Gilpin. The joke had gone over Caroline’s head, and Darcy had realized at that moment that the advantage in wit belonged to Miss Bennet.
Miss Bennet had been at Netherfield visiting her sister Jane who was ill. Darcy remembered how Elizabeth showed up one morning, her face flushed with the exercise, and her hem caked with mud. She had walked alone the three miles from Longbourn to see her sister, to the astonishment—and disapproval—of the Bingley sisters.
But Darcy had seen it as a testament to her independence of mind, her courage, and most of all her love for her sister. He knew he would walk through three miles of mud to see Georgiana if she was ill. He recognized and admired the affection that Elizabeth had for Jane, and the matter-of-fact way she set out to see her.
Of course, he had already been attracted to Elizabeth. The first time he laid eyes on her, at the assembly in Meryton, he had been struck by her beauty and liveliness. That had been the reason for his remark that there were no ladies present handsome enough to tempt him. That statement, for all its rudeness, had been merely his reflexive defense to the profound attraction he felt.
His purpose in attending the assembly at Meryton had been solely to keep an eye on Bingley. Darcy would’ve considered the evening to have been a great success had he been able to pass it without engaging with any person present, save to the extent politeness required. The plan had failed utterly. It was several months past, and he still could not get Elizabeth Bennet from his thoughts.
“Mr. Darcy, you are so quiet,” Caroline said. “You must enter into the spirit of the season. Are you not pleased to be going to Rosings Park?”
“I should be more pleased to stay in London,” said Darcy honestly. “But I have a matter to take up with Lady Catherine.”
“I’m sure she would not deny her favorite nephew anything he wished,” said Caroline. “I promise that I will make it my mission to see that you have a festive holiday.”
“You may do as you see fit,” Darcy said. “I would not deprive you of any of the season’s festivities,” he said this abruptly, and she looked at him a moment before smiling and turning her attention back to the others.
Yes, Netherfield in the spring. They would call at Longbourn. Bingley would be well received there, of that Darcy was certain. He would have another chance to prevail upon Elizabeth to read his letter, the letter which explained all. He touched the breast pocket of his coat where he always kept the letter against the chance that he would encounter her. The letter was a talisman or symbol that did not so much comfort him as remind him of what he had lost, and what he hoped yet to gain.
He must put Miss Bennet from his thoughts. He had more pressing matters to which he must attend.
But Darcy kept his hand pressed against his breast pocket, over his heart.
Chapter 5, Rosings Park
December 19, 1812
The distance from Longbourn to Rosings Park was about fifty miles and was an easy trip only for the wealthy, Elizabeth reflected as Lady Catherine’s carriage conveyed them through the rolling countryside of Kent.
She recalled Mr. Darcy describing it as a very easy distance, being not more than a half day’s journey over good roads.
It was little more than a half day’s journey due to Lady Catherine for, not only had she sent a private carriage for them, but they had stopped at posts along the way to change horses and therefore enjoyed the benefit of fresh, fast stock which could keep up a brisk pace.
But still, although they had left Longbourn just after first light, and made good time all the way—notwithstanding that they had taken time for refreshments at each of the stops—dusk was descending as the short December day was ending. The brown fields past which they whisked sparkled with frost as they were struck by the last rays of the setting sun. Elizabeth could see a pale gibbous moon above the horizon.
