“My friend has renewed his invitation for us to stay at Netherfield Park.”
“Are you of a mind to accept?” During our sojourn in town, I had made the acquaintance of the amiable Mr. Bingley, his two arrogant sisters, and his rather boorish brother-in-law. At our wedding feast, Mr. Bingley had asked whether we might spend a few weeks at his leased estate before we travelled north. He had not quite concealed his disappointment when Fitzwilliam recounted our plan to go directly to Pemberley.
“If you agreed, I thought we might leave for Hertfordshire tomorrow and stay at Netherfield for a time. We could take the opportunity to pay our respects to Mrs. Collins.”
The lady’s mother-in-law had died from apoplexy this past January. My cousin and his wife had not been blessed with children, so Mrs. Collins had been left alone in the house. “Yes, we ought to go. I should be glad to see Longbourn. Besides, Mr. Bingley is eager to have us as his guests, and for his sake, we can tolerate his sisters.”
A smile lightened his aspect. “I agree. And we need only sustain Miss Bingley, for Mr. and Mrs. Hurst are staying with a friend in Norwich.”
“Ah, that does sound better. Shall we take Lily and Regal?”
“No, it is a long distance for a relatively short stay. Lily will be content with Robert giving her daily attention.”
“Yes, I dare say you are correct.” I bit my lower lip. During our first week at the estate, Lily had formed an attachment to her new groom, Robert. I couldalmost be jealous of their bond. Of course, thanks to him, I could leave Lily at home without concern for her wellbeing. “Will Georgiana come with us?”
“I shall ask her, but I believe she will prefer to remain here. She is almost as uneasy in Miss Bingley’s company as she is with Lady Catherine. She cannot abide the lady’s insincerity and peculiar attention.”
My eyebrow inched upwards. “Whereasyouare inured to such adulation.” I had witnessed that treatment of him, and myself by association, by people of all classes on enough occasions in town.
He wrinkled his nose. “Yes, I suppose that is true.”
Chapter 12: The Mistress of Longbourn
Friday, 11 September
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire
Elizabeth
The avenue curved along green pastures and continued past a rustic gardener’s shed and a charming pond. Then Netherfield House came into view, with adjacent oak trees casting long shadows across the handsome stucco façade. I removed my sight from the window to peruse my husband. “Are you prepared to endure Miss Bingley’s officious consideration?”
He leaned in to kiss the bare skin on the side of my neck, inciting my contented sigh. “Not long after we met, I made a wondrous discovery—everything I once found difficult or tedious is easier with you present.”
What a beautiful compliment. I licked my lips, and my mouth tarried near his ear. “A powerful inclination induces me to reward your gallant speech. Alas, that must wait until we reach the privacy of our rooms.”
His dark eyes burned into me as he moved his face opposite mine. “You are a singularly maddening woman, Mrs. Darcy. Will you ever cease teasing me?”
“Hmm.” I tapped my lower lip in a show of contemplation. “No, I do not believe so.”
“Thank the stars for that.” He kissed the tip of my nose then settled back against the squabs.
Both Mr. and Miss Bingley met us in the vestibule, the former with an energetic and warm welcome, the latter with the same—for my husband. She engagedmein a more placid style with a smile that never stirred her eyes.
Fitzwilliam and I removed to our guest rooms. Once we had refreshed ourselves, made superlative use of our time alone, and rendered ourselves presentable, we joined our hosts in the drawing-room.
The furnishings reflected the latest proclivities in home decorating, much as Miss Bingley’s silk gown and matching feathered turban brought to mind the fashions so often on display in town.
With a jaunty air, a beaming Miss Bingley ambled to my husband and handed him a glass of white wine. “Mr. Darcy, this is your favourite hock. We had it sent for you from London.”
“Thank you, that is most kind.”
“If there is ever anything you desire, you need only ask.” She shifted to me, and her posture stiffened. “What would you like to drink, Mrs. Darcy?”
“A claret would suit me. Thank you.”
Mr. Bingley adjusted his seat forwards. “Darcy, shall we ride out on the morrow, before breakfast, and take a tour of the estate?”
“Indeed, yes.” Fitzwilliam glanced my way. “And since Mrs. Darcy is an accomplished horsewoman, she may want to accompany us.”
