J Croft: Mr. Darcy Takes the Plunge

During a lull in the ladies’ discourse, Miss Elizabeth surprised the gentlemen by joining their debate. She caused utter astonishment by speaking of the expensive military investment in the Lines of Torres Vedras. Colonel Fitzwilliam was stunned any civilian, especially a woman, knew of the fortifications and fervently hoped the young lady was not a spy. Upon observing the men’s shocked expressions, Elizabeth explained she had a very good friend who was a Lieutenant-Colonel, which caused Darcy to wonder just how intimate that fortunate friend might be. The military officer was still unsure whether or not Miss Elizabeth Bennet was involved in espionage and was furthermore quite upset at and disgusted with a certain loose-lipped Lieutenant-Colonel.

The gents were again amazed when the young lady held her own as they conversed on a number of topics ranging from the Berner Street hoax, to the Prince of Wales, and then to the Luddites. Miss Elizabeth spoke eloquently, intelligently, and always with wit and an enticing sparkle in her dark eyes. Bingley and Fleming were out of their league and had joined Miss Bennet, Miss Darcy, and Miss Anna on the other side of the room, pretending to be utterly fascinated by a debate on short sleeves versus long sleeves, with Fleming in total agreement with Miss Darcy and Bingley defending Miss Bennet’s preference.

Just as the entire company started to discuss their favourite authors, Georgiana deflected another potential fiasco when her mother’s Italian Greyhounds bounded into the room, hard on the heels of Anna’s pet rabbit, Herr Stewart. Miss Darcy grabbed Geoffrey Canterbury Tail by the scruff of its neck and directed her brother to do the same with Chaucer Cantering Burybones. A harried servant rushed into the room and regained control of his recalcitrant charges, and Geoffrey and Chaucer were quickly marched out the door. Miss Anna captured the rabbit, Stew, and apologized for the ruckus while Miss Darcy flopped back in her chair and sighed. In Georgiana’s opinion, her precious, prestigious Pemberley had suddenly gone to the dogs.

Georgiana noticed her brother staring at something, or someone, rather intently; and she became occupied in observing his surprising attention to Elizabeth. Though he displayed no outward sign of attraction, such as a smile, heightened colour, or, heaven forbid, animated speech, Georgiana saw in her brother’s eyes the same affectionate look Fitzwilliam often bestowed upon family members; and she began to speculate. Miss Darcy was far from suspecting she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of one of her brother’s strapping young friends.

Further contemplation was interrupted by the announcement Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had arrived for their nieces. The couple declined when their party was invited to stay for dinner, as they had to make an early start the next day for their return journey to London. The Darcy siblings and Charles Bingley protested their departure most vehemently; the Gardiners were insistent, and the carriage soon drove away from Pemberley.

Jane and Elizabeth spent several pleasurable days in London with their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner at Gracechurch Street. During that time, they paid a visit to their sister, Mary, who, at ten and five years of age, was attending a seminary for young ladies. Although the girl missed her family, she was perfectly content with her studies in the city and was becoming quite a proficient pianoforte performer. Mary was thrilled to spend time with her older siblings and laughed heartily when Lizzy related, with gestures and more than a little hyperbole, the series of bizarre events experienced at Pemberley. At that moment, somewhere in Derbyshire, four debonair gentlemen’s ears must have been brightly burning, because Elizabeth Bennet spared no detail while reciting a particular chapter and verse.

The travelers eagerly returned to their idyllic country life at Longbourn and were welcomed with open arms by their parents and siblings. When the initial excitement of the reunion waned, Thomas Bennet informed his family should he be needed he could be found in his study with Jonathan Whitelaw, the estate’s competent steward, for the next three-quarter hour. With a twinkle in his eye, he added, “Following our meeting, Whitelaw and I will be walking down to the stream to communicate with some fish.”

Puzzled, his wife asked, “Thomas, exactly how are you going to communicate with fish?”

“I shall be dropping them a line, of course, my dear,” he answered with an impish grin. Mr. Bennet then bestowed a loving peck upon his lady’s cheek before leaving the room.

Mrs. Bennet shook her head and chuckled, “Teasing, teasing man! I fear I shall never learn, for I have been walking straight into your father’s traps since the moment we first met. Still and all, entering into the parson’s mousetrap with such a charming and caring man as Thomas Bennet has always been an especial ensnarement I shall never regret.” The lady smiled and roused herself from a pleasant, private reverie. “Now, Jane and Lizzy, I shall just ring for Alice to take Robert to the nursery and for Martha to collect Kitty and Lydia for their lessons; and then we three shall have a nice long chat over some tea.”

“Oh, Mama, can Robert not stay here with us? It seems ages since I have held him and look, the little poppet has already fallen asleep on my lap. Surely there is no need to disturb him.” Elizabeth smiled down at her three-year old brother and kissed his forehead. Their mother gazed fondly at the two heads so close together, one a riot of chestnut ringlets and the other of strawberry-blonde curls. Jane, the eldest, and Robert, the youngest, were tow-headed and blue-eyed like her, while Lizzy, Mary, Catherine, and Lydia were brown-eyed brunettes like their father, although his hair was turning quite grey. Mrs. Bennet smiled as she remembered her husband once said that finally having a son was an heir-raising experience.

Longbourn’s mistress rang for tea and also for Miss Martha Edwards, the children’s governess, who curtsied and greeted the returned travelers before taking her charges in hand. As the three were about to leave the room, Lizzy asked, “Miss Edwards, has Lydia been living up to her nickname in our absence?”

The governess smiled and replied, “Oh, yes, indeed. Little Miss-Information recently told me geese do not mind fowl weather and find it just ducky. Miss Lydia, please repeat what you told me this morning about your pony.”

At seven years of age, Lydia Bennet obviously followed in her father’s footsteps and was a constant source of amusement to most of her family. Her dark eyes sparkled mischievously as she took great delight in responding, “I believe Miss Edwards is referring to the fact my pony has lately been giving me a lot of whoa.”

Kitty, as the family called Catherine, was much more serious and missish at one and ten years; she rolled her eyes as the others laughed at Lydia’s nonsense. In Kitty’s opinion, her young sister should not have been allowed to run on in such a wild manner, as she was no longer the baby of the family.

Mrs. Hill, Longbourn’s housekeeper, arrived with the rosewood tea caddy; Mrs. Bennet opened the ornate box with a tiny key that dangled from the chatelaine at her waist. A pot of the hot commodity was prepared, and the caddy was locked again and taken away by Mrs. Hill for safekeeping. When the two eldest sisters and their sleeping brother were alone with their mother, Mrs. Bennet said, “It is so pleasant to have you home again, my dears, for you have been greatly missed. I suppose I should prepare myself for eventually losing you both to charming young men. In the meantime, let us always make the most of our time together. So, tell me of your adventures in Derbyshire with my brother and sister-in-law and about your visit with our darling Mary in London, and then you shall hear of Hertfordshire’s latest news.”