Miss Darcy's Companion: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (4 page)

“I would not go that far, Mr Darcy. But I am quite certain that my days in Lady Stretton’s nursery are numbered.”

“I am pleased to hear it. Well, young ladies, if you would excuse me, I will leave you now,” he said airily and was gone.

The beginnings of quiet chatter reached him before he had closed the door and Darcy walked back towards his study with a good feeling about the upcoming addition to their household.

* * * *

Thankfully for all concerned, two months later Miss Harding was fully recovered and ready to resume her duties. Slyly perhaps, Lady Stretton was kept uninformed of the position Miss Bennet had been offered and gladly accepted. Thus, the lady was deprived of the satisfaction of demanding that Miss Bennet remain in her employ till Michaelmas, just to be awkward.

By early August Miss Bennet was already a part of the Darcy household and, although Lord Malvern had voiced dissatisfaction with the choice of companion for his niece and Lady Stretton had found more than enough to say, the Darcys were supremely undaunted. The reason for their unconcern was simple: neither of them were in town to witness their relations’ manifest displeasure.

Georgiana and Miss Bennet were at Pemberley. They had travelled north within a se’nnight of Miss Bennet’s removal from Malvern House to Berkeley Square. Truth be told, Darcy had specifically planned it so, to shield his sister from any disagreements and allow her to settle into a comfortable relationship with her new companion, away from Lady Stretton and her snide remarks.

The only disappointment was that he would have liked to see it happen, yet circumstances had conspired to prevent him. Just three days before the planned departure to Pemberley, an uncommonly frantic letter had arrived from the land steward at Rosings to bring ill tidings of a thunderstorm that had caused much misery in Hunsford village. A thatched roof was struck by lightning and the fire had rapidly spread to five adjoining ones, all of them dry as tinder after two long months of drought. Fortunately the nearby tithe barn had a tiled roof so the damage was not as extensive, nor was there any loss of life, but Darcy understood that a great deal had to be done, and not by Lady Catherine, who only knew how to sail forth and scold everyone into harmony and plenty.

Thus, he was forced to allow the ladies to travel to Pemberley without him, escorted by the butler, Georgiana’s lady’s maid and a small army of postillions and footmen, while the other carriage drove him to Kent on the following day. Fitzwilliam joined him yet again, but only for a fortnight – he had to report to duty by the end of the month. His cousin teasingly told him he merely wanted to investigate whether Lady Catherine had a hand in setting the village ablaze for the sole purpose of getting him back to Rosings, but in truth his good sense and military thinking were of great assistance in getting the cumbersome wheels in motion. As for his help in dealing with an exceedingly obstructive Lady Catherine, it was nothing short of priceless.

Unfortunately he had taken his seat on the London coach that very morning, leaving Darcy to enjoy the delights of Lady Catherine’s society and unravel the tangled skeins of her affairs. With a sigh, Darcy rubbed his eyes and reached for his cup of coffee. He drained it, closed the ledger before him and donned his coat. It was time to meet with the land steward again.

CHAPTER 4

The steady drizzle that had been his near-constant companion from Grantham had given way to tentative rays of sunshine streaking their way through the low-lying clouds and casting the odd spot of golden light over the surrounding hills.

Kent would have benefited greatly from such wet weather. Then perhaps there would have been less fire damage at Hunsford, and he might have been allowed to return home much sooner, Darcy thought and rummaged for his pocket watch. An hour at the utmost and he would be at Pemberley at last.

His enforced stay in Kent had lasted a great deal longer than expected. Too long. Lady Catherine, while eager to reign in great state over her domain, was not so willing to carry out the duties that came with privilege, and it had been his unwelcome task to mediate between her rigid will and her beleaguered people.

The dealings with the land steward had been fraught as well – he was too well accustomed to please his mistress over everybody else. At least the new vicar was of greater assistance, and Darcy was glad that the former sycophantic parson, Collins, had relinquished his post to play the part of the lord of the manor in Hertfordshire.

During his stay at Rosings, Darcy was reminded just why Miss Bennet’s reference to Longbourn had sounded familiar and understood that the comfort of the parishioners of Hunsford had been bought at the price of that young lady’s family. Lady Catherine’s laments over the loss of her obedient vicar – much more so than the current one – finally revealed that it was Collins who benefited from the Longbourn entail; he who was responsible for Miss Bennet and her family being cast out of their home.

Darcy’s short acquaintance with the man during his visit at Rosings the previous year had given him a clear picture of the cold selfishness that guided his conduct, but he had not expected such callousness as this. Lady Catherine mentioned that within a se’nnight of learning of Mr Bennet’s demise he had sailed forth to claim his inheritance and had taken possession almost immediately. What the poor wretched widow and her daughters must have suffered, to lose their protector and discover that the next in line – a man of the cloth, no less – was so devoid of Christian compassion!

To his disgust, Darcy had found himself brought face to face with Collins during his very brief stay with his friend. Bingley had called upon him in town and had chanced to find him at home, as Darcy had seen fit to spend a few days in Berkeley Square on his way from Rosings to Pemberley and attend to the neglected business that had accumulated in his absence. To please his friend, he had agreed to break his journey at Netherfield, the new estate where Bingley had established himself a few weeks prior, and give his opinion on its merits and potential for improvement.

Bingley always said it had been his father’s dearest wish to see his line established as landowners, and thus give a sheen of old-fashioned respectability to a fortune made in trade. It seemed that the son was well on the way to finally fulfilling the paternal dream. He had not bought an estate at the drop of a hat, thank goodness, but had leased one with all his proverbially impulsive haste. His business agent had alerted him, he said, to a particularly tempting opportunity which he had been loath to miss, although he had originally intended to delay embarking upon the life of a country gentleman for at least another year.

Shaking his head in amused exasperation at Bingley’s way of doing business, so unlike his own, Darcy had agreed to share the benefit of his experience. Little had he expected to find himself visiting in the area which Miss Bennet had once called home, nor to be subjected to the assiduous attentions of the new master of Longbourn.

The man had come to call on the first morning of Darcy’s visit at Netherfield, to do his duty and welcome Bingley to the neighbourhood. He was thrilled beyond measure to discover that he could already claim an acquaintance with Mr Bingley’s friend and had presumed to impose upon Darcy and treat him as an equal. He was no longer a mere parson but a fellow landowner, and clearly expected to be treated as such by Lady Catherine’s nephew.

Darcy had no intention to oblige. He would have disliked the man merely on grounds of their previous acquaintance, but knowing what he now knew of his role in dispossessing Miss Bennet and her family, the dislike had ripened into outright disgust. He coldly rejected Mr Collins’s invitation to call upon him at Longbourn, much as part of him would have been interested to see the place where his sister’s companion had spent her formative years.

Nor was he willing to accede to Bingley’s suggestion that he extend his stay and attend the assembly planned for five days hence in the neighbouring town of Meryton. He had done his duty by his friend, had briefly examined Bingley’s new estate and had given his opinion, but there was nothing else to hold him in the environs. Bingley’s unmarried sister was as unappealing company as ever, with her ill-disguised determination to become the future mistress of Pemberley, Collins riled him greatly and, first and foremost, he was anxious to be home.

He was eager to be reunited with Georgiana and see how she fared with Miss Bennet. The letters he had received from his sister during his stay in Kent had reassured him greatly. They were bright and cheerful and full of glowing praise for her new companion – her new friend.

It seemed that the young lady was skilled in a great deal more than a game of quoits. Georgiana had written that Miss Bennet played the pianoforte with grace and spirit and sang very well. She was proficient in French, Italian and, shockingly, Latin. She had not learned the harp and her drawing skills left room for further improvement, but those deficiencies in her education had merely given Georgiana the delight of seeking to remedy them and sharing her superior knowledge with her friend.

In her latest letter his sister had mentioned that she could hardly wait to show him the watercolours and charcoal sketches they had drawn together, and that there was a lovely piece she eagerly anticipated playing for him, an exquisite composition for the pianoforte and the harp. She had reserved the latter for herself – Miss Bennet was not fully confident about performing at that instrument as yet – but her piano accompaniment was exquisite and she sang like an angel.

Darcy leaned back in his seat with a warm smile and bright expectations. Georgiana’s happy accounts showed that Miss Bennet was a good choice of companion. It seemed that cheerful times awaited him at Pemberley.

* * * *

“Mr Darcy. A pleasure to see you home again, Sir,” the butler welcomed him warmly. “Miss Georgiana will be thrilled to see you.”

“And I her. Where is she?”

“In the garden, Sir. Shall I send word?”

“Nay, let her come in at her leisure,” Darcy replied and divested himself of the light travelling overcoat.

His butler relieved him of it and Darcy was about to walk to his study when girlish giggles stopped him in his tracks. He turned instinctively towards the unexpected sound and all but gaped at the sight before him, hard-pressed to recognise his sister in the rosy-cheeked girl with clusters of wild flowers in her hair, her skirts rumpled and, gracious, four inches deep in mud.

In her turn, Miss Bennet bore little resemblance to the young lady he remembered. Her attire was still sombre, but nothing else about her was. She was aglow with laughter and the unpretentious knot had been abandoned in favour of a much more flattering hairstyle. Curls framed her face, others bounced over her nape and a chain of daisies crowned her brown tresses. Nay, not brown but auburn, glinting in the late September sunshine. And then she spotted him and curtsied, the carefree laughter giving way to a slightly conscious smile.

Georgiana noticed him at the same time and verily ran into his embrace, forgetting or disdaining all the precepts of ladylike deportment.

“Brother! How long have you been at home?”

“But a few moments. I have arrived just in time to see that wood sprites have taken over Pemberley,” he teased them with a smile, and Miss Bennet cheerfully returned it.

“You might as well say gypsies, Sir. We were about to go up to change. A little longer and you would have found us more suitably attired and waiting in the parlour, prim and proper. I hope you would excuse the unorthodox welcome.”

“I could not have wished for a better, Miss Bennet,” he replied with utmost sincerity.

It was all that he could do to suppress his unseemly mirth when the young lady caught a glimpse of her own fetching reflection in one of the pier glasses and promptly removed the chain of daisies from her hair with another conscious smile towards him. It would have been equally unseemly to observe that she should have left it where it was, for it complemented her hairstyle and complexion admirably, so Darcy said nothing of the sort. Instead, he let them continue on their way and walked towards his study with a bounce in his step.

Indeed, there were cheerful times in store for them all at Pemberley.

* * * *

After dinner Georgiana had her wish. The exquisite composition for piano and harp was performed for him, and Darcy found it utterly delightful. His sister was in the right: Miss Bennet did sing like an angel, her clear voice a perfect foil for Georgiana’s.

The time in the music room was short, for the brother and sister were both eager to talk about their time apart instead – or rather he was eager to learn how Georgiana fared with her new companion. Admittedly, minute inquiries might have to wait until he could speak privately with both, but for now he was content to witness their interaction. Thus, when Miss Bennet sought to excuse herself and leave them to enjoy a private reunion, he added his voice to Georgiana’s to persuade her to stay.

His choice was rewarded with cheerful tales of their exploits. To his unconcealed delight, Georgiana spoke at length and with great animation, while Miss Bennet left her to it, only occasionally interjecting to add a detail or another. The shared reminiscences often made them both dissolve into fits of giggles, as Darcy stared incredulously at the changes in his little sister. So Fitzwilliam had the right of the matter once again. She merely wanted suitable encouragement to conquer her shyness, and in that a youthful, light-hearted companion was worth a dozen staid ladies decades older than herself.

“Goodness, I have turned into a chatterbox,” Georgiana said once she had concluded her tale of determined treks around the lake to find and sketch the best view of Pemberley reflected in the waters. “My sole excuse is that I have missed you so very much, but here I am, not letting you fit a word in edgeways. Do tell me about Rosings, Brother.”

Darcy grimaced. He would have greatly preferred tales of muddy treks around the lake.

“There is not much to tell. Forgive me for having stayed away from you for so long, dearest, but there were matters to address. Those affected by the blaze had to be properly cared for and Lady Catherine needed my assistance, that is all.”

Truth be told, most of the time she had resented it, but he was not about to share that with Georgiana.

“Then pray tell me about Mr Bingley’s new estate. Miss Bingley wrote that he leased one at last.”

This topic was not much more palatable either. He did not wish to pain Miss Bennet with references to her former home. However, his scruples were appeased when the young lady herself chose to pursue the topic.

“I understand from Miss Darcy that the estate your friend has leased is but five miles from Longbourn.”

“Oh, Lizzy, must we return to ‘Miss Darcy’?
” his sister interjected. “I thought we had seen the last of this formal distance. You do not object, do you, Brother?” she added a trifle diffidently, quick to recognise her friend’s reason for reverting to formality.

“Not at all,” he assured them both, much as the new appellation had surprised him. Of course he had no objection to their closeness, but… Lizzy? For his part, he found that he preferred the full, resonant ‘Elizabeth’, but still, what did it signify?
He
could not address her as anything other than Miss Bennet. “Aye, so it is,” he resumed at last, to confirm Netherfield’s proximity to Longbourn. “I have learned as much myself during my visit into Hertfordshire.”

“I assume you have not been occasioned to see the place. The main road from London passes at some distance from the village.”

“I was asked to,” he cautiously owned, “but I fear I have declined that invitation rather brusquely. Mr Collins’s society is not one I would willingly seek.”

“Ah. So you have met the gentleman himself,” Miss Bennet concluded with rueful amusement.

“We were acquainted while he was my aunt’s parson in Kent. I must say that since then his conversation has become even more… hm, fulsome.”

“I fully comprehend your reservations, Sir. I felt unable to bear it myself for longer than strictly necessary. Sadly, I believe my mother might never be able to forgive me for it.”

“I fail to catch your meaning, Miss Bennet.”

“I beg your pardon, Mr Darcy. My penchant for making sport has often led me wrong – in this case, to unfortunate disclosures. But since I have already spoken out of turn I might as well finish, or else goodness knows what you might think of the entire business. The truth is that of all my sisters I was chosen as the future mistress of Longbourn but, for better or worse, I felt obliged to decline that honour. The offer was not repeated when Mr Collins inherited my father’s estate, and for that I suppose I should be forever grateful. With my family in mind, it would have been difficult to refuse him twice.”