16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

E lizabeth bustled under the tent, her hands deftly arranging the tray of biscuits as she prepared to serve the gentlemen. Rain still seeped through the fabric of the tent, creating running drips wherever some careless youth—Lydia, for example—had touched it, but there was also an odd blend of sun piercing through the clouds, casting a golden haze over the misty work site. She watched the faces of her father and her neighbours as they approached, each man's expression heavy with both inspiration and fatigue from the day's discussions.

Mr Bingley was the first to approach. He grinned as he walked into the tent, his gaze fixed solely on Jane, who stood nearby pouring tea. His admiration was obvious to anyone with eyes, his smile wide and genuine as he moved closer to her. Well, indeed! Perhaps her mother would have pleasure from that quarter, at least, for the man seemed only to increase his attentions to Jane the longer he stayed in town. But there was no point in staring at the couple now, so she continued her own task of serving biscuits to the others.

Mr Wickham walked with Sir William, both appearing quite pleased with something. Whatever their conversation was, it must have been an engrossing one, for Mr Wickham seemed to be oblivious to the fluttering attempts of the ladies around him to capture his attention. His allure was undeniable, yet he managed to maintain his focus on the discussion, only pausing to graciously acknowledge the ladies with a polite nod.

As Wickham approached, Elizabeth offered him a warm smile and a tray of biscuits. "Mr Wickham, would you care for some refreshment?"

He returned her smile, his eyes twinkling. "Thank you, Miss Bennet. You are most kind." He accepted the refreshment and quickly became involved in a conversation with Mr Long, their tones hushed and serious. Elizabeth would have very much liked to ask him what their discussion had been about, but they moved away too quickly for her to inquire .

The flow of gentlemen continued, each accepting Elizabeth's offering with varying degrees of gratitude and distraction. She moved with practised ease, ensuring everyone was attended to, yet her thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation between her father and Wickham. What could be so urgent and secretive?

Finally, Mr Darcy approached, looking decidedly unhappy about something. His usual stern demeanour was even more pronounced, and Elizabeth's curiosity fairly simmered over. Gone was her vexation with the man. He might be the only one willing to answer her questions. She met him with a bright smile, hoping to brighten his mood and goad him into a few rare words. "Mr Darcy, would you care for some refreshment?"

He looked around at the other gentlemen, who had mostly all wandered off or got snared into other conversations, before finally nodding and accepting a biscuit. "Thank you, Miss Elizabeth," he said curtly.

Elizabeth watched as he stood close, eating in silence. His brooding presence was almost a physical wall. Drawing him out might prove a challenge worth accepting. "Mr Darcy, I could not help but notice that there was a rather serious discussion taking place earlier. Might I ask what the gentlemen propose to do?"

Darcy hesitated, his eyes flickering with some internal conflict before he finally spoke. "We have been discussing the possibility of petitioning Parliament for aid. The damage to the fields is extensive, and without effective representation, our appeal may go unheard."

"And how do you plan to secure such representation?"

Darcy chewed in silence for a moment, and she thought he would not answer at all. Then, at last, he spoke. "It would seem that Meryton has its own representation in the House of Commons. However, your father informed us all that the current MP is quite elderly and may not be able to advocate effectively. They are considering asking him to resign to allow for a special by-election. If he agrees, the community could elect someone more capable."

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. "And who do you think might take on such a role?"

Darcy's gaze sharpened. "That remains to be seen. It must be someone who understands the gravity of the situation and is willing to act in the community's best interests."

"Well, was no name put forward?"

He dipped his head toward the others. "I believe that is the very subject being canvassed at the moment."

"And you are not among them to offer your wisdom and advice? Mr Darcy, I misjudged you."

His brow lifted. "I cannot tell whether that is an honest appraisal of my abilities or a sardonic jab at what you must perceive to be my officiousness."

She shrugged. "What if it is both?"

"Then I am afraid you will be disappointed on both counts. I am not among them because the affair is no business of mine. I have no property or claim in the region. Therefore, my input is not wanted."

Elizabeth was ready with a fresh tea plate the moment Mr Darcy finished the last of his biscuit. If he left, she might very well have no one else to ask, for surely, her father would not trouble himself to answer her questions so frankly. She tugged the empty plate from the gentleman's hands and traded it for a full one before he quite knew how to respond—he merely stared at her with an empty expression for an instant.

"If you think to bribe me with food in exchange for information," said he at last, "I am afraid I have little to offer."

"That is what you say, but I am willing to take my chances. Surely, you must have overheard something else. What are they meaning to do about the washed-out riverbed? What of the roads? I heard the North Road was hardly passable where it comes near the River Mery."

"I am sure Mr Wickham will pledge his assistance," the man said, but he looked quickly away as he said it.

"I am sure he will, but… why, Mr Darcy, whatever is the matter? Was that biscuit bad?"

"It is perfectly acceptable."

"Then it is the company," she declared, with a flick of her index finger toward herself.

"I assure you, it is not."

She set a hand on her hip. "Your assurances weigh little in comparison to that sour face you just made. What…" She glanced to her right, where her father and Mr Wickham were talking… or rather, her father was nodding, and Mr Wickham was sketching images in the sky with his hands.

"Is it Mr Wickham?" she guessed.

"I told you, Miss Elizabeth, there is nothing amiss." He finished the biscuit, then, not knowing what else to do, relinquished his plate to her with a brisk bow. "It has been a pleasure, Miss Elizabeth."

She watched him walk away, both empty tea plates stacked in her arms. "Well! At least Mr Wickham appears to be engaged in the matter, even if his friend is rather useless. "

Chapter Sixteen

"Ah, nothing quite like the serenity of a peaceful morning," Mr Bennet mused aloud, peering over his newspaper. "Of course, it would be even more serene if one did not have to announce unexpected guests."

Mrs Bennet looked up, puzzled. "Unexpected guests? What are you talking about, Mr Bennet?"

Mr Bennet leaned back in his chair, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Well, it appears my esteemed cousin Mr Collins will be arriving this afternoon. I do hope you all find the news as exhilarating as I do."

Mrs Bennet nearly dropped her teacup in shock. "Mr Collins? Arriving today? Whatever do you mean?"

"Indeed, I believe he is eager to grace us with his presence. I received a letter from him some days ago, and he is to arrive this very afternoon."

Elizabeth looked up from her plate, her curiosity piqued. "Today? And you thought now was the appropriate time to inform us?"

Mr Bennet shrugged, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, better now than when you sit at table this evening with a stranger, my dear. Here, I shall read it to you."

He retrieved the letter from his coat pocket with an air of nonchalance as if the entire matter were a delightful joke. The room fell silent as he began to read aloud.

"Dear Sir,

The honour of being your heir has long been a source of pride for me, and it is with the utmost deference that I pen this letter to inform you of my forthcoming visit to Longbourn. My esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, has most graciously granted me leave to make this journey, and I shall arrive at your residence by Wednesday afternoon. It is my sincere hope that this visit will afford me the opportunity to make the acquaintance of my fair cousins and to strengthen the bonds of familial affection.

Yours most respectfully,

William Collins"

Mrs Bennet clapped her hands together in delight, her face alight with excitement. "Oh, Mr Collins is coming! Do you know, I was quite certain we would have no notice at all from that man, but this is splendid news. Perhaps he means to do well by our girls, after all. Oh, girls! You shall put on your second-best gowns, and… oh, Lizzy, do not even think of disappearing off to Charlotte Lucas's this afternoon! I shall go distracted, I absolutely swear it, if you turn up bedraggled from some mishap again. "

Elizabeth crossed her arms and sat back. "I doubt a parson would take a liking to me, anyway, Mama."

Mr Bennet leaned back in his chair with a sardonic smile. "Our cousin Collins' letters suggest he has a remarkable talent for obsequiousness and an impressive enthusiasm for flattery. I do wonder how well these qualities will serve him in person. It should be quite the performance to behold."

Lydia, who had been whispering with Kitty, now spoke up with a giggle. "I hope he is not too dull. A parson, how tiresome. Why can he not wear a red uniform?"

Kitty shrugged. "Even a parson can dance. We could invite him to the next assembly and see if he can keep up with the latest steps. Do you think he is tall?"

"What does it matter whether he is tall? He is a parson," Mary reminded her younger sisters. "Doubtless, he will have much better things to do than dancing."

"Oh, bother with his looks," their mother huffed. "He is to inherit this house, and that is good enough. Lizzy, be sure your hair is tidy, and your gown… oh, no there she goes, out the door again!"

" A h! There you are, Darcy. I was starting to think you did not mean to join us," Wickham greeted with a genial wave of his hand as Darcy entered the breakfast room.

Darcy claimed a seat beside Bingley and forced a polite smile. "Good morning, Wickham." He hoped his response conveyed the appropriate warmth without betraying his discomfort. To think of him, happily eating at George Wickham's table… why, the whole thing still rankled. He simply did not know what to do about it.

Wickham settled back in his chair; his demeanour relaxed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Bingley, after a thoughtful sip of tea, looked up with curiosity. "I was thinking a deal about this last night. Do you think the neighbourhood has a suggestion for someone to hold the office of MP if Sir Harold decides to step down? "

Wickham's eyes lit up, and he leaned forward slightly. "Actually, Sir Anthony Mortimer was suggested."

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "Sir Anthony Mortimer? I am not familiar with the name."

"Ah, not terribly surprising. He is not of the first circles but a most trustworthy and intelligent fellow. His father happens to be from just north of here, about fifteen miles. I happened to suggest him myself."

"You know him?" Bingley asked.

"Indeed, I met him in school."

"You did? I was at the same school as you were," Darcy reminded him.

"As was I," Bingley added.

Wickham chuckled. "And I hardly saw you, Darcy, and never met our good Mr Bingley here at all. Not everyone was in the chess club or the fencing club, you know. Come, Darcy, there were over one hundred eighty men in our class!"

Darcy frowned. "And the handful who escaped my notice probably did so for a reason. I am acquainted with all the good families and—"

"Oh, Darcy! You do amuse me," Wickham laughed. "A man must be born of the finest circles to be worth knowing."

"I did not say that."

"But it is in all your manners. Seriously, Darcy, he is an excellent chap. But do not take my word for it—Sir William knows him as well. He was quite pleased when I brought the man's name up, as were a number of others. They say Mortimer has implemented a dozen new farming practices at his estate and has also managed to secure an apothecary to serve his tenants."

Bingley smiled brightly. "Why, he sounds like a remarkable fellow! Having someone like him in London would certainly benefit Meryton."

Wickham continued modestly, "Indeed, and with the support of the community, I am confident he will be elected. But that is not ultimately up to me, so perhaps I will ask your opinions about the upcoming Ball. Tell me, Darcy, for you must have overseen many similar events. Ought we to serve white soup or oysters first?"

Darcy glanced up. "You are mistaken. I have never—"

"Oh, of course," Wickham chuckled. "I forgot, you are just as much of a bachelor as I am and have never played the host. Our situations are much the same. Well, save that you never enjoyed balls. But, quite seriously, most of the affair will be in the hands of Mrs Nicholls, and I've no doubt she knows what she is about. But Mrs Bennet has given me a guest list—rather extensive, I daresay. She tried to organise the seating, but I believe I shall make some alterations to that. You will thank me, Darcy, for she had you seated beside Miss Lydia."

Darcy's head snapped up with a swift look of horror. "Heaven have mercy," he breathed.

"Hah! I knew you would say that. I think we shall adhere to the usual protocol of the gentlemen escorting their most recent dance partner to dinner, so Darcy, I admonish you to choose well."

Darcy raised a brow and resumed moving his egg about his plate with his fork. "I expect I will be returned to London before then."

"Oh, Darcy!" Bingley protested. "You would not miss the fun. Truly, what can be so pressing in London?"

"My sister, of course," Darcy replied, not looking up from his plate.

"You spoke too quickly, Darcy," Wickham answered. "I was hoping Miss Darcy could be prevailed upon to come here. Why, think of all the lovely ladies she could meet and—"

Darcy stiffened. "I do not think that would be appropriate," he replied curtly, his voice strained.

Wickham's face softened apologetically. "Of course. Forgive me. I did not mean to suggest something that would be offensive to you. I had nearly forgot that Miss Darcy was not yet out. It was only the pleasure of good company that made me think of it, but you are quite right. Pray, forget I brought the matter up."

Darcy pushed back from the table, his breakfast quite forgotten. "I've no appetite this morning. I believe I require some exercise."