The following day, Mrs. Bennet was beside herself with delight when her sitting room began to fill with handsome gentlemen. Mr. Bennet was even called upon to have an extra chair brought from his study, which he had placed near Mrs. Bennet.
“I do not know why you insist on sitting with us,” his wife complained in a loud whisper as he took his place next to her. “It is not as if you enjoy social calls.”
Mr. Bennet smiled and patted her arm as one might an overwrought child. “They are my daughters as well as yours. It is my duty to see that the young bucks are acceptable and not just pretty.”
Mrs. Bennet huffed. “I would not accept any gentleman who was not eminently eligible. These things are best left to the women to decide. Money is merely part of the equation. Take Lizzy. She will have no want of anything except pleasure. Her life will be dull, very dull. Sitting about at home? You know how she loves to dance.”
Mr. Bennet smiled sheepishly at Darcy, who had caught that bit of conversation by the look on his face. “My dear, Lizzy is just as fond of reading and not opposed to spending a quiet night at home. And,” he looked at Darcy with a twinkle in his eye, “I suspect, she will many have opportunities for dancing, since she will have a new sister to help introduce to society.”
Mrs. Bennet caught her lower lip between her teeth as her eyes grew wide. She had not thought about Elizabeth’s place in society. “Oh, my.” Her fan fluttered rapidly. “If I had but thought. Lydia is more suited for society than Elizabeth.”
Mr. Bennet grasped his wife’s hand and shook his head. “Lydia has little knowledge of society beyond flirting with a uniform, and she is barely out herself. How could she help another her own age? Truly, Mrs. Bennet, you need my guidance more than I had thought. It is very good that I am here after all.” He chuckled at her displeased huff. “I say,” he began in a louder voice in his address to the room, “the weather is not too foul at present — the sun shines and the ground is dry. I would suggest a stroll about the garden before tea.”
There was a general consensus that a walk would indeed be an excellent idea.
“But it is cold,” complained Mrs. Bennet as her visitors began to move to leave the room. “Surely, it would be better to stay inside and have the tables brought out for cards.”
Mr. Bennet stood and extended a hand to Mrs. Bennet. “Get your warmest wrap, my dear. We should not allow these youngsters to wander about unattended, and a foray into nature is good for the constitution.”
Mrs. Bennet did not look convinced and sighed in resignation before turning to Mary. “My green wrap –”
“No,” interrupted Mr. Bennet. “I asked you to get it, not Mary.”
Mrs. Bennet scowled. “But she will need to get her own, and her room is not far from mine. Besides, it is good training.”
Mr. Bennet drew his wife to her feet and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “I will escort you, my dear.” He moved toward the door to the sitting room, and, having little other option, she followed.
“Jane,” Mr. Bennet said as he and Mrs. Bennet exited the room, “see that everyone is comfortable.” He looked past Jane to Mary. “Your mother and I will join you shortly. I expect Mrs. Bennet will wish to check on the arrangements for tea, and there is a small matter I wish to discuss with her.”
Nicholas watched as Mary’s cheeks flushed and her eyes lowered. He was glad that Mr. Bennet was addressing his wife’s behaviour. He had noted how Mary had moved quickly to scurry away and get the item that was requested before her father had stopped her with a shake of his head. How she must suffer at the hand of such a mother! It was no wonder she was going to live with the Darcys. The thought that she would have an escape as she wished made him smile until that unsettled feeling once again formed in the pit of his stomach, twisting and knotting it as it did. He mentally shook himself. Friends had moved on before. This was nothing more than that. He would miss her for a time, but then, the efforts needed to keep his estate running well and his father satisfied with his life in Bath would take over. The thought of such did little to lift his mood as he exited the house and followed the others toward the side garden.
There were, of course, no flowers to greet them, but neat hedges and walkways seemed eager to draw them along the paths. It was not a vast garden, but there was ample room for each grouping of people to find their own small space for conversation. Nicholas had hoped that he might get to speak with Mary, but she had already been claimed by his brother. Whit had Kitty on one arm and Lydia on the other and was looking rather contented to be so surrounded.
“Mr. Hammond, it seems we are left to form the last pair.” Caroline smiled coquettishly at him.
Nicholas drew a breath and expelled it. He had no desire to escort Miss Bingley around the garden, but to refuse to do so when there were no other gentlemen to provide the service would be rude. So, he gave a bow of his head in welcome and offered her an arm. They walked for several paces in silence. Just as Nicholas had no desire to escort Miss Bingley, he also had no desire to speak of trivial things, and he was certain a lady such as Miss Bingley would only be interested in the regular crop of topics — the weather, the latest tidbit of gossip from the village, some comment about the situation of the house being pleasant or — heaven help him –how lovely the lace was for her new bonnet. He shuddered at the thought and, at length, decided that if he was to avoid such topics, he must do his part and begin some sort of conversation. “Will you be remaining at Netherfield for long after the wedding?” That should do nicely. It required no discussion of the weather or fashion.
“No,” said Caroline. “Hurst insists we spend Christmas in town. Charles will join us after the new year, of course, but Miss Bennet will wish to have this Christmas with her family. Who knows when she might do so again.”
The statement startled Nicholas somewhat. Netherfield was but three miles from Longbourn. Surely, Christmas at such an estate would be preferable to spending it in town.
“I do not think my brother will keep Netherfield,” Caroline leaned closer to whisper this information as if it was some great secret. “Where Mr. Darcy goes, Charles will follow. He always has. Besides to be so close to family such as Mrs. Bennet would be simply out of the question. The demands she would make on him would be great. Town would be a better residence. An estate is not necessary to happiness, you know.”
“No, actually, I do not know,” Nicholas replied. He was certain that town would be a better residence for Miss Bingley, but her brother seemed content to be in the country. He suspected that her comments were more to her own benefit than that of her brother. “I find Rosemoore to be of great importance to me, and it is where I am happiest.”
She favoured him with the kind of understanding smile that made him wish to withdraw his arm from her touch. Such airs of self-importance had always been repugnant to him. His father was always affecting them — acting as if he was better than those around him, speaking as if he was the authority on all things proper, and spending as if he had the wealth of Croesus! Such attitudes could only run to ruin.
“The country is familiar to you,” said Caroline sweetly — too sweetly, according to Nicholas’ sensibilities. “Charles has lived most of his life very differently. I fear he will grow tired of the prosaic life. He does not think so now, of course. It is new, and he is enamored with Miss Bennet, but…” she said no more, leaving the thought unfinished as if it was only natural for anyone to assume that country life and Miss Bennet would soon be boring to her brother.
“I had not taken your brother to be someone who was so capricious.” Nicholas tried to keep the edge of displeasure from his voice, but the stammering excuses Miss Bingley began to give him indicated he had not been successful. To be truthful, he was not certain he cared. Perhaps now she would stop batting her eyes at him and acting coy. He preferred a lady to be honest.
Presently, Miss Bingley began to shiver. Whether it was from the cold or his reticence to engage in any conversation, Nicholas could not tell, but being the gentleman he was, he offered to see her back to the house. He had no intention, however, of joining her in the sitting room, which was something that did not overly please her. Again, he did not care. He would not be found unaccompanied in a room with Miss Bingley. He would rather stand outdoors until his fingers and toes broke off from the cold. So, after depositing her at the door to Longbourn with Mr. Hill, Nicholas returned to the garden. Besides wishing to avoid the possibility of being forced into a compromising position with Miss Bingley, he also wanted to make certain that his brother and Whit were not tempting such a fate with any of the younger Bennet sisters.
~*~*~
Mary and Fred had stopped a distance away from where Lydia and Kitty entertained Whit.
“I spoke to your uncle this morning,” Fred said. “He has some work for me to do, but not for a few days.” He pulled a package from his pocket. “And I purchased these.”
Mary smiled and opened the package. “You have worked quickly.”
Fred glanced over his shoulder. “I did not wish my brother to know about your accident. He is already hinting that I might not get my curricle returned. It seems some shopkeeper mentioned my driving too fast.”
Mary chuckled. “That is too bad.”
“I might believe you if you attempted to sound sincere and did not smile so much,” said Fred, “although you are pretty when you smile.”
Mary raised a brow and gave him a stern look. “I do not flirt, Mr. Hammond.”
He shrugged. “You cannot fault me for the attempt, I hope?”
Mary heaved a great sigh and her brows narrowed. “I suppose I cannot, but you should attempt to say things that are not so obviously flattering — something that is more truthful.”
“You do not believe yourself pretty?” Fred’s eyes were wide with surprise.
Mary’s responding laugh was bitter. “I have been told I am not.” She turned and looked at her younger sisters. “They are. I am not.” She pulled off one glove and then the next.
Fred watched as she slid her hands into the new gloves, smoothing each finger and then the palms. It was nearly as mesmerizing as it had been watching her run her fingers through her hair the day she fell. This time, he could not keep his hands to himself and without much thought, took one of hers in his. Catching himself before he lifted it to his lips, he turned it over and inspected the palm. “No more tear,” he commented before releasing it. “And they fit well.”
Mary clasped her hands together. “They do. Thank you.” She shifted uneasily. “Perhaps we should join Mr. Whittemore?”
“No need to worry. Whit’s in his element.”
Mary’s eyes narrowed. “Is he? And exactly what element would that be?”
Fred swallowed visibly. “He is good at entertaining.”
“Entertaining?” Mary’s brows rose.
“Being amiable,” Fred elaborated.
“That could pose a problem,” said Mary, “for my sisters are far too fond of entertaining and amiable gentlemen for their own good. We must join them.” She accepted the arm Fred offered. “Are you as amiable and entertaining as your friend?”
Fred gave her an uneasy sidelong glance. “I am not certain if I should answer that.”
Mary laughed. “I believe that is answer enough for me.”
~*~*~
Jane sighed and looked at Elizabeth. “Have you been specific in your prayers?” she asked softly.
“Whatever do you mean?” Elizabeth replied.
Jane tilted her head toward where Mary stood with Fred holding her hand and looking at her palm. “That is not the right Mr. Hammond.”
“Hammond?” Darcy asked.
“Remember the night of the ball when Mary mentioned that there might be a gentleman who had caught her eye?” Elizabeth responded, ignoring Jane’s hiss to keep silent.
Darcy’s eyes grew wide with understanding. “Mr. Hammond?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Jane and I were not to tell anyone or interfere in any way,” she gave both Darcy and Bingley a look that begged them to understand and not say a word.
“Not a word will pass our lips,” Bingley assured her, “will it, Darcy?”
Darcy, however, was not attending. He was staring off toward the entrance to the garden where Nicholas was just making his way back from depositing Caroline in Mr. Hill’s care. Darcy shook his head and smiled. “I would not fear too greatly. In fact, his brother might help Mary’s cause.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jane.
“I have felt that expression, have not you, Bingley?”
Bingley looked at the scowl Nicholas wore as he hurried toward his brother. “Indeed. Jealousy is a powerful ally.”