Netherfield Park Revisited (14 page)

Much as they would have liked to indulge in some Gallic romancing, they were discreet and sensible people and said nothing that might embarrass their guests.

The couple had also been the subject of discussion between Elizabeth and Darcy, for quite another reason.

On their journey back to Woodlands, the issue of Longbourn had arisen because Elizabeth had noticed that her sister Mary seemed rather frail and wondered how much longer she could go on teaching her music pupils.

Agreeing that Mary Bennet did look somewhat less well than when he had last seen her, Darcy revealed that the matter had already concerned Jonathan, who had spoken to his father about it some time ago.

“He has realised that Mary was growing more frail each year, and the respiratory problems that had plagued her as a child seem to have returned recently. I believe Dr Faulkner has advised that she take a holiday by the sea, but Mary has been unwilling to leave her pupils,” Darcy explained.

Elizabeth, who knew nothing of this, asked, “And what does Jonathan propose?”

“I believe he has not spoken to Mary yet, because he has no wish to upset her, but he proposes to let her take an annuity from the estate, in addition to her present income, so she would not have to continue teaching or, if she prefers, she could reduce the number of pupils she takes. Knowing how much pleasure she gets from her work, he is reluctant to suggest that she give it up altogether.”

Elizabeth was not surprised to hear of her nephew's proposals. He had always been a compassionate and generous young man. However, her husband's next statement did cause her some astonishment.

Speaking very casually, Darcy said, “Bingley asked if I thought it was a good idea to invite Miss Faulkner to take on some of Mary's pupils. It seems Jonathan thinks she may be interested. She would certainly have the necessary competence to do so.”

“Miss Faulkner? Take over Mary's pupils?” Elizabeth was amazed. “And what did you say?” she asked.

Darcy continued in the same casual vein, “That it was a sensible idea. Do you not agree? Look at it this way, my dear: Charlotte Collins, who is still remarkably fit and active, is Anna Faulkner's aunt. She is unlikely to object. With Haye Park being in the near neighbourhood, it may suit all parties rather well.”

Elizabeth's eyes were wide with astonishment. “Now, you have truly surprised me. Jonathan's concern for my sister I can well understand and I applaud it. But involving Miss Faulkner? Do you believe it can work? How is it to be arranged?” she asked.

He smiled and took her hand. “That, I am sure we can safely leave to the ladies to work out amongst themselves, Lizzie. I believe Jonathan will not rush into this, but means to put the idea to Mrs Collins first and then through her to the Faulkners and finally, if everyone is agreeable, he will talk to Mary.”

Elizabeth suspected that Darcy had probably given Bingley exactly that advice and said with a teasing smile, “Was that your advice to Jonathan? Through his father, of course.”

And he laughed, knowing she had found him out. “How well you know me, Lizzie,” he said, though admitting nothing. “Had I given Jonathan advice, I believe that is what I would have said.”

They were almost at the turn-off to Woodlands when a thought struck her and, on an impulse, she asked, “Darcy, do you believe Jonathan is just a little partial to Miss Faulkner?”

She half expected him to scold her for gossiping, but he, having taken a moment to think, nodded. “Yes, I do. Quite clearly, he finds her an engaging young woman. But I also know that he is a man of honour and will always behave with utmost propriety. Of that I have no doubt whatsoever,” he said very firmly.

The carriage came to a halt before the house; Darcy alighted and helped Elizabeth out.

Later, unable to rest until she had spoken with him further, Elizabeth sought out her husband.

“I have been thinking about what you said about Jonathan and Anna Faulkner … that you have also noted his partiality towards her. I cannot help being concerned; it will do neither of them any good at all were it to be thought that they were …”

Darcy interrupted gently, “My dear Lizzie, I think you and I both know Jonathan Bingley well enough to say that there is not the slightest chance that he would do or say anything that will jeopardise the reputation of the lady, much less his own. He is not some irresponsible, selfish young buck around town—he has a strong sense of family loyalty and public duty. What is more, if he does have some special regard for Miss Faulkner, as he may well do, he will certainly not want her to be compromised in any way.”

Elizabeth looked uncertain, but Darcy was very sure. He believed absolutely in Jonathan's integrity and would not concede that there was any danger in the association.

“I may be mistaken, Lizzie, but all I have observed is their shared enjoyment of Art and Music, in the completely innocent and acceptable context of a dinner party. One senses that there is a certain warmth, a special rapport perhaps, but no more,” he said.

Elizabeth had to agree that their conduct had given her no cause for concern at all.

“You are right, I have seen no coy behaviour or archness on her part, nor anything in his conduct that could give rise to gossip.”

“Exactly. So, I would not be too concerned, Lizzie,” he said, and yet she was unable to rid herself of a nagging fear.

She could not be as sanguine as he was and so persisted a little longer.

“You do know that Jane has some grave concerns about Jonathan and Amelia-Jane, do you not?” she asked.

She knew that if there was a serious problem that Bingley knew of, he would seek Darcy's counsel on it.

In spite of that, she was unprepared for his reply when he said, frankly, “Yes, I do. Bingley is exceedingly concerned, too. But that has nothing whatever to do with Miss Faulkner. Indeed, the situation existed well before her return to England. Amelia-Jane has not been herself for almost a year now, and the problem has been compounded by Jonathan's desire to purchase Netherfield Park.”

Elizabeth had had no idea.

“How do you know this?” she asked.

His reply left her incredulous. “Caroline Bingley has written to her brother, to warn him that if Jonathan goes ahead with the purchase, his wife will in all likelihood refuse to move to Hertfordshire. Bingley has not told Jane; he fears she will be very upset.”

“And yet, Bingley has encouraged Jonathan to proceed with the purchase.”

“Certainly he has. It would be stupid to indulge Amelia-Jane's whims on such important matters as the purchase of an estate. He hopes her fears may be allayed and she may come round, in time.”

“Do you think she will?” Elizabeth asked anxiously.

“I cannot be sure. She is being childish and unreasonable. A great deal will depend on the influence that is brought to bear upon her. I believe she is very dependent upon Caroline Bingley and some new friend of hers, a Mrs Watson.”

“Watkins—it's Arabella Watkins, she's a recent arrival in Bath and a friend of Miss Bingley, who appears to have taken a liking to Amelia-Jane,” said Elizabeth, deciding to find out more about Mrs Watkins, but it was late and time to change for dinner.

Darcy put his book away and asked, “And Mr Watkins, what does he do?”

Elizabeth laughed out loud, a merry laugh. “Very little, if anything at all,” she said and, seeing the look of bewilderment that crossed his countenance, she added, still laughing, “He has been dead for some years.”

Her infectious laughter drew him in, too, and for the moment, at least, the tension was gone.

Elizabeth sighed gently. “Poor Jane. First it was Emma, and now Jonathan is unhappy, too.”

Darcy tried to comfort her.

“Yes, it is hard for Jane; she and Bingley have been so happy, she cannot believe that her children have not been similarly blessed. Clearly there were hasty decisions and unfortunate choices made,” he said as they went upstairs.

“Thankfully, Emma was given a second chance at happiness; I fear it may not be so for Jonathan,” said his wife, but Darcy was more hopeful.

“I agree it will be difficult for him, especially if his wife continues to behave like a spoilt child; but have faith, my dear, Jonathan Bingley is one of the finest young men I know. I am confident that he will prevail.”

***

When Jane and Bingley arrived a few days later, it was difficult for Elizabeth to believe that Bingley, knowing so much, had successfully concealed it from her sister, for surely he must have done, else she could not look as happy as she did. For Elizabeth, accustomed to the close intimacy of her relationship with Jane, in which they had few secrets from each other, this was a difficult time. Darcy had made her promise solemnly to bite her tongue if need be and not blurt out anything that would betray the confidence placed in him by Bingley. While Darcy abhorred deception of any kind and would have preferred frankness, he respected his brother-in-law's determination to avoid aggravating Jane's anxiety about their son's marriage.

This, however, seemed furthest from Jane's thoughts when they returned to Woodlands. Once alone with Elizabeth, resting and enjoying a cup of tea, Jane gave a lively account of their journey from Longbourn to London.

Elizabeth was quite surprised to find that Miss Anna Faulkner appeared to figure very prominently in her sister's conversation. Her dress, her demeanour, conversation, and manners were all deemed to be charming and admirable.

“Truly, Lizzie, I cannot recall when I have last met a young woman for whom I have developed such a liking. There is nothing about her that irritates or offends, even unwittingly, as most young women might do; she is a truly refined young lady. Do you not agree, Lizzie?”

Elizabeth had been so astonished by this paean of praise that she had been taken unawares, but she hastened to concur.

“Oh, yes, indeed,” she said quickly, but before she could ask Jane if she knew what Jonathan thought of the young lady, Mr Bingley entered the room and, pouring himself a drink, followed up with even more praise of Miss Faulkner.

Elizabeth could hardly believe her ears; it seemed there was not a flaw to be found in her, as far as he was concerned.

“I've just been telling Darcy what a fine young woman Miss Faulkner is,” he declared. “She is the pleasantest person and so talented, Lizzie, I shall be absolutely astounded if she is not engaged by Christmas.”

“My dear brother, you astonish me; are you not rushing to judgment?” asked Elizabeth; even for her amiable brother-in-law, this was generous.

“No indeed, Lizzie. Mark my words. What is more, the man who persuades her to marry him will be a very fortunate fellow, and Darcy agrees with me.”

Mr Darcy nodded, smiled, and succeeded in avoiding his wife's eyes, for he knew she was wanting to discover what he thought of this glowing account of the young woman they had all been speaking of in the last few days—a young woman whose very existence had hardly mattered to many of the family until her return from Europe a few months ago.

Further conversation was suspended when the servants arrived to clear away the tea things, and the ladies, realising that it was already half past five, withdrew upstairs to change for dinner.

***

Later that week, Jonathan Bingley was invited by his brother-in-law James Wilson to attend an informal meeting of the Reform Group at Westminster. He found them very appreciative of the hard work he had done during the drawn-out negotiations with the Peelites and Liberals.

They urged him to consider returning to the Commons as an MP at the next election.

James Wilson, in whom Jonathan had already confided his plans for Netherfield Park, suggested that he could be fortunate enough to be given a constituency in Hertfordshire, should he decide to reside permanently in the county.

A diverse coalition of Whigs, Peelites, and Reformists had joined together and were seeking to establish a foundation for their new party. Much later it would be known as the Liberal Party and produce men of the calibre of Gladstone, but at the moment, they had to work hard at being united.

Keen to develop some momentum on issues they had been pushing for years without success, they were looking for experienced, politically astute candidates to swell their ranks and promote their policies.

Chief among them were freer trade and the extension of the franchise to give the vote to working men. Jonathan was invited to come on board.

“With your family's long and successful involvement in Commerce and Trade and your own unswerving commitment to the Reformist cause and the improvement of the lot of the working poor, you would be an ideal candidate,” James Wilson said, and several others agreed.

Jonathan was flattered and interested, but wary. He asked for time to consider it, which, seeing the election was years away, seemed a reasonable request.

But in his heart Jonathan knew that with his wife's present attitude, there was very little chance that he would be able to accept. Indeed, he knew the idea of his ever returning to Parliament would be anathema to her and might well bring about the end of their troubled marriage.

Returning to Grosvenor Street, following the meeting at Westminster, he found a letter waiting for him from Amelia-Jane.

It was a reply to his urgent appeal, but had little to satisfy the urgency of his own plea. It was a cold and unfeeling letter; in it she predictably refused to even consider moving to Hertfordshire.

The tone was one of an injured party, put upon and ignored.

Surely, you cannot expect me to leave all my friends and most of my family and move to Hertfordshire, where I have never lived before.

I know no one there. I know you will point out that Mama is at Longbourn, by your invitation, but having her a few miles away, while I live at Netherfield with only Cathy and Tess for company, will not make amends for all the advantages I shall lose by leaving Rosings.