Chapter 12

Dining Parlor

Netherfield

Nine O'clock the Next Morning

Mrs. Annesley was a steady bulwark at Georgiana’s shoulder as the older woman steadily ate her eggs and drank her coffee. Georgiana herself chewed dreamily on a piece of toast, a full teacup steaming in front of her plate, and gazed out of the generous window before her. It was delightful to be back in the country, and with Mr. Bingley now happily engaged, she need no longer fear that he would make her an offer, leaving her free to relax and enjoy the scenery.

The sky outside was washed a delicate crystalline blue, with the pale lemon sun floating along the horizon, the light bright and clear as glass across the clean landscape. Mild hills undulated across fields and parkland, quite unlike the steep bluffs and majestic rises around Pemberley. Georgiana could clearly see across several fields to a small copse of trees, standing proud and stark against the bright horizon, their bare branches spread wide and reaching up towards the sunlight.

“If she does not wish to participate, Georgiana can retire to her room,” Mr. Darcy said, drawing the girl’s attention.

“Participate in what?” she asked, turning a puzzled look on her brother, which provoked a returning look of confusion. She blushed and said, “I was too intent on the beautiful scenery to hear you.”

“That is entirely reasonable, my dear; it is a lovely view. Bingley informed me that all five of the Misses Bennet are coming in a short while to work on boxes for the local tenants for Boxing Day.”

“How wonderful!” Georgiana exclaimed.

“It is,” Bingley agreed. “Jane is determined to be an excellent mistress of the estate, and that starts with ensuring that the servants and tenants have a wonderful Boxing Day this year. They will also be making boxes for the servants, but they intend to do that work at Longbourn. The youngest Miss Bennet, Lydia, wishes for those boxes to be a surprise.”

Georgiana noted that her brother looked a little startled at these words, but he merely said, “You have no obligation to assist with this task, though.”

“I would like to, but I am somewhat nervous about meeting all the Bennets ladies at once, especially since I know you and Mr. Bingley are riding to Meryton this morning.”

“I will accompany you, Miss Darcy,” Mrs. Annesley said reassuringly. “But if you wish to rest in your bedroom, or play the pianoforte, I am certain the Bennets will understand.”

The door opened at this juncture, and a footman entered. “Sir, the Misses Bennet have arrived.”

Bingley was on his feet in an instant, his countenance vibrant with joy, and he said, “I will be there in a moment.”

Georgiana looked at her brother, who said, “And we will be along when we have finished breaking our fast.”

/

Drawing Room

A Few Minutes Later

Darcy stepped into the room with Georgiana on his arm and Mrs. Annesley at his heels, and his eyes immediately found Miss Elizabeth, who was standing next to a stack of blankets placed carefully on a nearby table, her mouth moving silently as if she were counting. Miss Jane Bennet was standing near the fire, speaking in soft tones to Bingley, Miss Mary was eying the pianoforte with interest, and the two youngest Misses Bennet were seated on a small couch, muttering to one another.

The younger girls stood up and everyone turned toward the Darcys and Mrs. Annesley, and Darcy said, “Georgiana, Mrs. Annesley, may I please introduce you to Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia. Misses Bennet, my sister, Georgiana Darcy, and her companion, Mrs. Annesley.”

The ladies curtsied appropriately, and Miss Bennet said, “Miss Darcy, it is such an honor to meet you at last.”

Georgiana had shifted a little closer to her brother for comfort, but to Darcy’s relief, she managed to say, though softly, “It is an honor to meet you all as well.”

“Would you care to assist us in packing boxes?” Miss Lydia asked, taking a few steps forward, her pretty face pleasantly flushed in the light. Darcy, looking from his sister to Miss Lydia, waited with bated breath. Georgiana was terribly shy, and Miss Lydia was always forward…

“I would,” Georgiana said timidly, “though I do not know exactly how to help, as I have never packed crates for Boxing Day.”

“Neither Kitty nor I have ever done it before either,” Lydia said gaily. “Jane and Elizabeth and Mary have helped before, so they will tell us what to do.”

“If you wish to,” Kitty chimed in.

“I would enjoy that very much. Thank you,” Georgiana replied.

/

Caroline’s Temporary Bedchamber

Netherfield

Later

“Do be careful, Belinda,” Miss Bingley said fretfully, sitting up straight on the stool by the fire.

“Yes, Miss,” the maid replied as she very carefully lowered her mistress’s day dress over her arms and head, avoiding the bandaged foot resting on the floor.

Caroline pushed her arms through the sleeves and waited patiently as the woman buttoned the back and the sleeves appropriately and tied the sash.

“Do you wish for me to assist you onto the wingbacked chair?” Belinda asked, gesturing toward the roaring fire.

Caroline sighed and looked out the window, which displayed gray skies with a few large snowflakes spattering the pane. “I am so very tired of sitting in here,” she muttered. “It is incredibly dull.”

“I can summon Owen to help you to the drawing room?” Belinda suggested, but there was an odd uncertainty to her tone which caused her mistress to turn on her with a frown and ask, “Is there some reason I should not be in the drawing room?”

Belinda coughed delicately and said, “No, of course not, Miss; it is merely that the Bennet ladies are visiting, all five of them, and they are rather loud on occasion…”

“All five of them?” Caroline demanded in horror.

“Yes, Miss. Now, perhaps I can order you some tea and you can settle by the fire with a good book? Given that you are injured, I am certain there is no expectation that you will be present for the visit today.”

Caroline opened her mouth to say yes, and then closed it as she contemplated the appropriate response. On the one hand, she despised the Bennets in general, and Miss Elizabeth in particular. On the other, Mr. Darcy might well be trapped in the drawing room with the ladies; he was too much a gentleman to flee at the sight of so much boisterous vulgarity, however much he must desire it! Charles, of course, would be of no help at all, as he was probably in a corner chattering with his fiancé while the younger Misses Bennet flirted…

Oh! Oh, that Elizabeth Bennet! Mr. Darcy had already mentioned, more than once, that he admired Elizabeth’s fine eyes – though they were not so very fine, more shrewish than anything else, and she was no great beauty but…

But if Caroline hid in her room, Elizabeth would have the opportunity to corner Mr. Darcy in conversation and while the master of Pemberley was, without a doubt, an intelligent individual, many a gentleman had found himself engaged due to an ‘accidental’ compromise, or had even proposed while enraptured by the pretty face of a flirtatious female.

And Mr. Darcy was hers!

“Tell Owen to help me to the drawing room at once!” she ordered.

/

The Pig in the Poke

Meryton

The dusty walls and smoke-darkened rafters of the pub hummed with conversation, nearly every heavy oak table filled with occupants, almost two hundred cups and tankards and plates set where they had been set a thousand times before. The clinking of flatware against heavy porcelain was a delicate counterpoint to the chatter of tradesmen and militiamen alike.

Wickham sat in the midst of this with several of his more favored fellow officers, steadily plowing through a late breakfast – a rasher of bacon, ham, eggs, and kippers. Trudy, the pretty and amply endowed barmaid, leaned over his shoulder to refill his cup, and he smiled up at her. “Thank you, darling,” he said, and she giggled as she moved to the next table.

He took a deep draught of his coffee and glanced over at the opening door as it opened. A uniformed private entered, and looked around before approaching the officers’ table.

“Lieutenant Wickham?”

“Yes?” Wickham asked absently, looking at the private. He recognized him from exercises on the village green but had never bothered to learn the man’s name.

“Colonel Forster asks that you accompany me to his office immediately, sir.”

Wickham frowned in confusion and demanded, “What about?”

“I do not know, sir. He merely ordered you to join him immediately.”

“The colonel was probably invited to some party and wishes for his most handsome officers to join him,” Lieutenant Smythe suggested.

“Are you certain I am not invited as well, Jenkins?” Captain Denny asked jovially.

There was a communal laugh from the officers, but the private merely said, “No, sir.”

Wickham looked unhappily at his half-finished meal and then, sighing deeply, rose to his feet. “Lead the way, Jenkins.”

/

Drawing Room

Netherfield

Caroline had opted to have Owen carry her; he could have helped her walk, especially with the crutch, but she detested the unsightly tool and much preferred to be carried rather than depend on the rough wood. The footman would be careful with setting her down, she knew; he would be dismissed if he were not sufficiently gentle.

The noise from the room made her wince as they approached the open doorway, but when the footman hesitated, she gestured with an imperious hand for him to continue. She would not sit idly by and permit Elizabeth Bennet to ensnare poor Mr. Darcy.

But there was no sign of Darcy as she was borne into the drawing room, nor of her brother and sister or Hurst, either. All five Misses Bennet flitted around the room, from box to box, while piles of textiles and foodstuffs were heaped up on every table and upholstered seat. Rough crates, not at all elegant or refined or lovely, sat in sprawling islands across the carpets, some half full and some empty and a very few with the lids already placed.

Caroline looked about in astonished befuddlement. As each of the Bennet sisters packed food and rugs and clothes into the crates, Georgiana Darcy, sitting tucked out of the way at the desk, ticked items off a long neatly written list in front of her. With her knitting needles clicking industriously and a basket of yarn at her feet, Mrs. Annesley was observing the bustle with a complacent, satisfied air.

As Caroline watched, Jane Bennet put the lid onto another full crate, ready to be closed up by the footmen, and looked up. She smiled brightly and said, “Caroline! Good morning! How are you feeling?”

“Whatever is happening here?” Miss Bingley replied, too confused to be even moderately courteous. “Where are Mr. Darcy and Charles?”

“The gentlemen are in Meryton dealing with some estate business,” Elizabeth Bennet remarked as she carefully folded a blanket into a tidy rectangle, “and we are working on packing boxes for the tenant families of Netherfield.”

“What?” Caroline demanded as she was lowered by Owen into a chair across from Mrs. Annesley and near the fire.

“We are preparing for Boxing Day,” Lydia said merrily. “It is really quite fun, more than I thought it would be!”

“Boxing Day?”

“It is the responsibility of the mistress of the estate to prepare boxes for the servants and tenants for 26 th of December,” Jane said calmly. “Given that you are injured, and I will be Mrs. Bingley before Christmas, Charles asked that I take charge of packing the boxes this year. Lydia and Kitty and Mary have been gathering items, Mrs. Annesley has agreed to knit scarves for some of the women, and Miss Darcy has been kind enough to manage the lists today.”

Caroline turned her attention on Miss Darcy, who was writing diligently, and said, “Miss Darcy, there is no reason for you to be doing such a menial task! Pray do come over and speak to me! We have not been in one another’s company for so long!”

“I apologize,” Georgiana said with a pleasant, if rather remote, smile, “but I offered to assist the Bennet ladies in this matter.”

“Surely as Miss Darcy of Pemberley, you need not demean yourself in such a way!”

Elizabeth turned in irritation, but Georgiana spoke first. “On the contrary, my brother was eager for me to assist the ladies. In time, I will probably marry a man with his own estate, and as Miss Bennet said, it is important for the mistress to care properly for her tenants, including arranging for the necessary presents for Boxing Day.”

Caroline felt tears well in her eyes – Mr. Darcy was not present, and Miss Darcy, whom she had hoped would be a sister by marriage, was obviously aligning herself with the despised and despicable Bennets.

“If you would like to help with knitting, Miss Bingley,” Kitty Bennet suddenly piped up, “I am certain we can find more yarn! We can always use more scarves.”

“I do not know how to knit,” Caroline said coldly.

“What a pity,” Kitty said innocently.