Page 55 of Conundrums & Coincidences

Miss Bingley soon sidled up to them. “Mr Darcy, can you not talk some sense into my brother about this foolish scheme of his to return to that country house he leased in the wilds of Hertfordshire? Charles, having just arrived in town, we should stay here at least a se’nnight to be with our true friends.”

Turning to Georgiana, she said, “If we must go to that wretched place, I hope, dear Georgiana, you will accompany us this time. If you are not so compassionate as to agree, my family and I shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives. There is so little to do in that dull neighbourhood, and being confined in such close quarters with one’s sister and brothers for more than a se’nnight must end in horrid discord. Of course, you would know nothing of disharmony, for you are of such a sweet disposition, and you have the very best of brothers.”

The woman’s flummery was turning Darcy’s stomach, which was unfortunate since dinner soon would be served. Speaking for his blushing sister who seemed at a loss for words, he said, “I thank you on Miss Darcy’s behalf. She and I shall discuss the possibility, and you will have our answer tomorrow.” Turning to his friend, he asked when Bingley intended to go to Netherfield.

“I had planned to leave by week’s end, but now I have changed my mind.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” cried Miss Bingley, pressing a palm to her heart.

Voice firm and lower pitched than was customary, Bingley said, “We shall leave on the morrow. I am keen to spend as much time as possible with our Hertfordshire friends.”

Unseemly cries of outrage issued from his sisters.

Mrs Hurst turned to her husband. “The least you could do, Freddie, is support Caroline and me in our objection.”

“It makes little difference to me where I spend my time,” said he. “’Tis much of a muchness, really. Like your brother, when I am in the country, I never wish to leave it. When I am here in town, it is pretty much the same. Each place has its benefits, and I can be equally happy in either as long as there is food, drink, and a pack of cards to be had.”

In Darcy’s opinion, and to his disgust, Hurst’s time was trifled away without benefit from books or anything else worth his while.

A footman announced another guest’s arrival, and Miss Bingley went to fetch her.

With everyone in the room already acquainted with Miss Grantley, no introductions, only polite salutations, were necessary when the young lady entered. Darcy knew that due to their newly acquired wealth, the Grantley family was considered nouveau riche by members of the nobility and often referred to as upstarts.

Between Mrs Hurst and Miss Grantley, Georgiana sat primly and softly responded in monosyllables when directly spoken to by anyone. Taking a seat adjacent to her and watching from the corner of his eye, Darcy sympathised, knowing full well that small talk was as distasteful to his sister as it was to him.

Contrasting her demure demeanour with the brazenness of another young lady of sixteen years, he recalled Lydia Bennet’s insolent words upon seeing him at the Gardiners’. I cannot imagine Georgiana uttering anything even remotely close to ‘Lawks! Why is he here? Make him go away’. Rousing himself from those thoughts, Darcy consulted the mantel clock and tapped fingers upon his thigh. Whoever this inconsiderate final guest might be, he is tardy by eleven inexcusable minutes.

When a commotion in the vestibule heralded the man’s arrival, Mrs Hurst gave a nod to her sister, upon which signal Miss Bingley again excused herself. She moved in such an ostentatious and provocative manner that Darcy suspected it was a ploy to capture his attention, as was Mrs Hurst’s relinquishment of duties for the evening.

Upon her return to the drawing room, Miss Bingley was arm in arm with a gentleman who stopped short and cried out in surprised delight, “I say! Darcy!”

“Good heavens.” Darcy shot to his feet and smiled so widely that everyone gaped at him. “What an unexpected but pleasant surprise, Hadley.”

All the gapes turned to puzzlement.

Bingley approached and shook Hadley’s hand. “How do you do, David? How on earth are you acquainted with Darcy?”

“He and I met at a house party in Buckinghamshire.”

“When I first saw Hadley,” said Darcy, “I thought he could be your twin. I even told him he reminded me of a very good friend of mine not only in appearance but in character, which, I said, was a compliment to him.”

“By Jove, Darcy,” said Hadley, “I remember that conversation, but I had no notion you were referring to good old Charlie here. Our mothers, you see, were sisters.”

“Gentlemen,” said Miss Bingley, tugging Hadley’s arm, “perhaps we could continue this conversation in the dining room. Dinner was ready to be served a quarter of an hour ago.”

“Am I late? Oh, I do beg your pardon, everyone. There was a bit of a to-do while passing through Soho. A herd of cattle was being driven towards Greek Street, perhaps destined for one of the butchers. Speaking of which, I am famished. Lead on, Caro.”

Miss Bingley gave him a glaringly false smile. “First, Davy, you must come and meet Miss Grantley and my dearest friend Miss Georgiana Darcy.”

After those introductions, everyone went through to the dining room.

Seated on Mrs Hurst’s right and left respectively, Darcy and Hadley exchanged grins when the latter twitched his head towards the centre of the table, which was taken up by an elaborate ormolu epergne overflowing with seasonal blooms and fruits.

During the first course, sitting between Darcy and Miss Grantley, Miss Bingley leant to the left. “May I enquire, sir, about that house party you and David attended?”

Darcy spoke of Oakwood Manor’s history and architecture, its gardens, a bit about the late Miss Armstrong, and he mentioned by name Miss Kensett and Mr Fordham. “Also among us was someone who can claim an acquaintance with you.”

Miss Bingley preened. “And who might that be, sir?”