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Authors: Fenella J Miller

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BOOK: Miss Bennet & Mr Bingley
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Jane thought this rather coldhearted. ‘But you are fond of your elderly
relative? I cannot imagine there is not a serious attachment on both sides.’

He smiled warmly. ‘I apologize, I must have sounded an unloving
grandson. You are quite right, I could not bear to do as I do if I disliked
her. She is a delightful, if demanding, old lady.’

He stroked his waistcoat lovingly. ‘Do you know, she called me a
popinjay when I appeared in this, and she gave it to me herself and I had only
worn it to please her.’

Jane giggled and took stock of the gentleman’s attire; his waistcoat was
red and gold stripes, however, his jacket was bottle green and quite
inoffensive, as were his inexpressibles and shiny Hessians. ‘I think her
judgement a trifle harsh, sir, apart from your waistcoat there is nothing
startling about your appearance.’

Mr Fox grinned. ‘I must admit I have become inordinately fond of this
lurid article, I love to see the shock on the faces of people when I turn round
to greet them.’

The morning call passed far quicker than Jane could have anticipated.
When he departed he asked permission to call again the next day and she
immediately agreed. He was delightful company, made no demands upon her, and
was already a friend of the family. What harm could it do to get to know him
and little better? For the first time in many weeks she had been able to forget
her heartache.
Her aunt and uncle were impressed with him too.

‘Could I ask you a special favour, I should be most grateful if you
refrained from mentioning in your letters to Longbourn about my meeting Mr Fox
again. I do not wish to raise unnecessary expectations; I am sure you know to
what I refer.’

‘Of course, my dear girl, I fully understand your wish for discretion,’
said her aunt.

But despite the need for
discretion, Jane felt happier than she had in many days.

The next morning Jane was woken by all four children who had escaped
from the nursery in order to tell her some wonderful news. Lucy led her
siblings, and was the one who shook Jane by the shoulder.

‘Jane, you must wake up, it is already past nine o’clock. We have
something amazing to tell you.’

Instantly alert, Jane pushed herself upright to be confronted by four
eager little faces. ‘Good morning, children, I am tardy, that is quite clear.
Now, what is it that could not wait until I came down?’

The smallest child, Tommy, broke free of the restraining hands of Emily,
who was, as second oldest, delegated to take charge of him. He dodged under
Lucy’s outstretched arm and scrambled up onto the bed, his eyes sparkling with
excitement. ‘It’s snowing! It is, there’s lots and lots and lots.’

‘How exciting! I cannot wait to go out into the garden and build a huge
snowman with you all. However, I think I might be cold if I came in my night
gown.’

Tommy squealed with glee. ‘Come, come, we don’t mind. You can put on
your cloak and boots on top.’

Lucy took charge. ‘Get down from that bed this instant, Thomas Gardiner.
We have told Jane about the snow, now we must let her get ready.’

Jane hugged the little boy and gently pushed him from the bed. ‘I have a
favour to ask all of you, do you think you could do it for me?’ A chorus of
assent greeted this question. ‘I should like you to run down and ask your mama,
if I am not too late, if I may have toasted bread, tea and butter and honey for
my breakfast.’

The children scampered off eager to arrange her meal, they all knew that
the sooner she breakfasted the quicker she would be outside playing with them.
It was a long time since she had built a snowman and she was as eager as they
to begin the task.

Dressed warmly and armed with spades the intrepid party emerged into the
rear garden to begin the construction. Jane had not been at there long when she
heard her aunt calling her from the back door. She glanced round to see Mr Fox
emerge with what looked like a basket of vegetables and old clothes under one
arm.

‘Good morning, Mr Fox. You are most welcome here, I am unused to
building snowmen. Let me introduce you to my cousins.’ Each child bowed or
curtsied politely but then Thomas grabbed his hand.

‘What have you got there, sir? Are we having a picnic in the snow?’

He dropped to a crouch, carefully placing the basket on the ground. ‘No,
Thomas, my friend, here I have the garments this gentleman shall require as
soon as he is finished. I also have a carrot for his nose and two onions for
his eyes.’

Jane watched him playing with the children, he was completely at ease in
their company and very shortly her reserve dissipated and soon she was laughing
as loudly as the children at his antics. When the snowman was complete she
stood back to admire it whilst the children put on its muffler and cap.

‘I have so enjoyed this morning, Mr Fox. It was kind of you to give up
your time to entertain the children.’

‘It was entirely my pleasure, Miss Bennet. I love children and I can see
that you do to. However, my feet are solid and I am in need of a hot drink. I
do hope my hard work merits such a reward?’

‘It does indeed, sir. Come along children, it is time to go in and get
warm.’

Elsie, their nursemaid, was waiting to collect them and whisked them
back upstairs to get into dry garments. Her aunt was waiting to greet them
both.

‘Mr Fox, I have mulled wine and hot soup waiting in the breakfast
parlour. I do hope you can stay and join us?’

Jane was pleased that he agreed, the more time she spent in his company
the better she liked him. It was obvious that her aunt and uncle approved of him
as well.

 
Chapter
Thirteen
 

‘Darcy, I swear if I have to look at another statue or admire any more
pictures I shall shoot myself,’ Charles cried flinging himself into an
armchair.
His spirits had been low ever since leaving Netherfield and
although he had tried to fit in with his friend and put his gloomy thoughts
behind him, enough was enough.

‘Good God! I had not realized how bored you were today; you disguised
your feelings admirably.’

‘Georgiana was so happy to be there, I would not have dreamt of spoiling
her pleasure in the occasion. She is a sweet girl, although she is rather too
solemn. She rarely laughs out loud, and it was all I could do to prise the
occasional smile from her.’

‘I expect she will grow out of her shyness; she enjoys your company, and
I thank you for coming with us today. Now, let us go to our club.

They went to White’s. They had no sooner settled themselves there when
they heard the name Darcy spoken from an alcove behind them. Instantly alert,
his friend sat up and deliberately eavesdropped on the conversation.

‘I believe that Miss Darcy is to make her come out next season; now she
would be ideal for you, Winterton. She has an impeccable pedigree and over £100,000.’

Charles recognized the speaker; it was an acquaintance of his, Lord
Rivenhall. His companion answered immediately.

‘I do not take soiled goods, my friend. Did you not know I saw her last
summer walking in Ramsgate, unchaperoned, and an officer from the militia with
his arm around her waist. If she is already chasing officers, she will not do
for me.’

Darcy’s face blanched and his jaw became rigid. Charles knew what must
come next. His friend stood up and stepped round to face the two gentlemen who
had the temerity to slander his sister’s name. He addressed the man who had
just spoken.

‘Sir, I overheard your comments. They are untrue and you will apologize
immediately for casting aspersions on the good name of an innocent young lady.’
He glared down at the man slouched in his chair, waiting for the retraction.

Slowly the gentlemen in question straightened until he was standing nose
to nose with Darcy. ‘I retract nothing. I know what I saw. Are you calling me a
liar, sir?’

‘I am. The lady is
my sister,
and I can vouch for her innocence. Such slander shall not be bandied
abroad.’

Rivenhall attempted to smooth the situation. ‘Darcy, I am sure there is
an explanation. Lord Winterton is a friend of mine; he would not malign a lady
unless he was certain of his facts. I expect it was not Miss Darcy he saw, but
someone else entirely and it is a case of mistaken identity.’

Winterton, a tall thin gentleman of aristocratic mean, shook his head
vehemently. ‘I know what I saw. You shall apologize, Darcy, or name your
second.’

‘I certainly shall not apologize.
Mr Bingley shall stand for me. He will attend
on you and the time and date can be arranged.’

Lord Winterton nodded. ‘Very well, Rivenhall will you stand for me?’

‘Are you sure this is the best way to proceed, Winterton. Can the matter
not be settled any other way?’

‘It cannot,’ Winterton said firmly.

As they left the club, Charles
recalled the dislike in which Darcy
held Mr Wickham. His mouth became dry. Georgiana had indeed spent the summer in
Ramsgate; had she become embroiled with Wickham and could this be what had
caused the rift between this man and his friend?

 
* * * *

Two days after the building of the snowman Jane was eyeing the weather
with disfavour. ‘Do you think it is going to snow again, Aunt Gardiner? Mr Fox
is calling for me later in order to take me for a drive in the park. I shall be
disappointed if we cannot go.’

‘The sky is overcast, but I do not think they are snow clouds overhead.
If you wrap up warm, and put a hot brick at your feet, I am sure you shall come
to no harm even if it does.’

‘In which case, I shall go at once and get ready.’ She paused at the
door. ‘You were quite right to insist that I make more effort. I am beginning
to feel more myself every day, the charming company of Mr Fox is expediting
matters.’

Muffled in extra clothing, including a red flannel petticoat that her
aunt had produced from her own wardrobe, Jane scarcely recognized herself in
the over mantel mirror. ‘Good gracious! I look quite stout dressed as I am. I
do hope my strange appearance will not disappoint my escort.’

Her aunt laughed. ‘I should think not, dressed in a flour sack you would
still look lovely. It’s a great shame your pretty bonnet must be hidden under
the hood of your cloak.’ A knock on the door heralded the arrival of Mr Fox.

‘I must not tarry, it is far too cold to keep his team standing.’

A parlour maid already had the front door open and Jane ran lightly down
the stairs. Mr Fox was waiting to hand her into his curricle.

‘Good day, Miss Bennet. I am glad to see you are well wrapped up, I
should hate for you to be cold. You will observe that the unfortunate boy who
was sent out with your hot brick is now obliged to hold the horses for me.’

‘I am sure you have given him recompense for his extra duties. I am so
looking forward to this excursion, it is a long time since I have driven out
with a gentleman.’ She smiled shyly as he assisted her on to the seat. ‘In
fact, if I am strictly honest, apart from my father and uncle I have never been
driven by a gentleman.’

He chuckled as she hoped he would and by the time she had tucked herself
under the rugs he was beside her, the ribbons in his hand.

‘It is not far to the park, and I doubt there will be many taking the
air today. Have you ever driven, Miss Bennet?’

‘I have taken the gig around the neighbourhood on more than one
occasion. It is something I always enjoy, but I must own, I prefer to be in the
saddle them behind the horses.’

‘If the park is quiet, would you like to take the ribbons?’

She viewed the spirited chestnut geldings who were tossing their heads
and stamping their hooves in their impatience to be moving. ‘I should love to,
but only if you think I am capable of controlling your team. Our docile mare is
quite a different proposition to your animals.’

Holding the reins was an exciting
experience and she was sad when a group of riders and a few assorted phaetons,
plus several curricles approaching meant she had to hand them to Mr Fox.

‘Thank you, that was a most
enjoyable experience. Look, two of the riders are coming over to us, are they
friends of yours?’

‘I am afraid that they are, would
you object if I do not introduce you? I do not believe your aunt or uncle would
wish you to be acquainted. They are a lively bunch, but harmless enough.’

Jane felt a moment’s disquiet, but
it was too late to complain as the men were upon them. She shrank back inside
the protection of her hood and remained barely noticed, as the gentlemen
exchanged pleasantries. She made an effort not to listen to their conversation
but overheard something that filled her with trepidation. Surely Mr Fox would
not be so foolish as to join in a race to Ryegate?

Before she could voice her
objections her companion snatched up the reins and flicked his whip. The horses
sprang forward and she was forced to grip the side of the vehicle to avoid
being tossed out.

‘Mr Fox, I do not wish to be
involved in any races and especially not out of town. Driving unchaperoned in
the park is quite acceptable, anything else is not.’

BOOK: Miss Bennet & Mr Bingley
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