Netherfield Park Revisited (11 page)

She thought he wanted to purchase Netherfield as a good investment—a place to be leased to tenants. Only when he took the letter from her and told her in simple terms what he proposed to do did she admit to understanding its true import. That he intended they should move to live at Netherfield Park when he had finished his work at Rosings seemed, at last, to sink in.

Jonathan had been prepared for astonishment and even displeasure, but he had not expected the violence of her reaction and the bitterness of her words.

“Move to Hertfordshire? Jonathan, are you mad? How can you suggest such a thing? What on earth would I do there? Who would I visit? Who would call on us, other than your aunt Mary and my mother? And I suppose, when you come to Westminster for days and weeks together, I will be expected to keep house and knit and sew.”

Her fury was so great, it silenced him altogether. It was as if nothing he could say would matter or persuade her to change her mind. He knew it would do no good at all to suggest that there were many useful and interesting things to engage the mind of the woman who would be the Mistress of Netherfield Park. It was of no account to her that the Bingleys had been well liked and regarded in the district and she would have a respected position in her own right, unlike the situation at Rosings, where they had been dependent upon the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

After the splendour of Rosings, even though she had only occupied the humble Dower House, Netherfield seemed déclassé, like a profound social demotion. She refused even to contemplate it.

Jonathan did not pursue the matter further, still hoping she might be persuaded to visit Netherfield and confident that if she did, she would be won over.

The signs, however, were not hopeful.

That evening, Amelia-Jane insisted that she intended to return to Rosings Park, where she declared she would occupy the Dower House “until they throw me out” rather than move to Hertfordshire. So saying, she retired to her room to pack for her journey and could not be persuaded to venture downstairs even for meals.

Her husband's disappointment was so profound he said nothing all afternoon. Having dined alone, he went out to his club and returned to sit in his study until nightfall. When a note was delivered by hand from Westminster, he opened it and had to read it twice before realising that it contained the news he had been waiting weeks to hear.

An historic political alliance had been formed, and the nation was on the verge of seeing a new government take office. A straight vote of “No Confidence” was set to bring down Lord Derby's government and, in the culmination of all their work, Lord Palmerston would form the new ministry.

Excited and immensely pleased, Jonathan ran upstairs to collect his papers and his coat, taking a few minutes to look in on his wife and tell her the news before racing out of the house.

Amelia-Jane received the news without excitement; she had long ceased to be interested in his political work and, indeed, blamed much of her unhappiness on his continuing interest in it. Significantly, Jonathan did not notice her indifference. He, too, had long since forgotten to feign disappointment at her lack of enthusiasm.

It was late when Jonathan returned to Grosvenor Street, and if he were to be quite honest with himself, he would have had to admit that he was somewhat relieved to discover that his wife had already retired to bed. His undeniably elated, even euphoric state would not have pleased her, nor was it conducive to logical argument about their future home.

The housekeeper advised him that Mrs Bingley had asked for her two maids to be packed and ready to travel to Kent on the morrow, stating that they would be making an early start.

Jonathan, who had spent several hours celebrating the prospect of bringing down the Tory government and restoring the Whigs to office, did not quite appreciate the full import of her words until he came down to a late breakfast on the following day to find that his wife had already left for Rosings Park.

“Mrs Bingley left very early, sir, and asked that you should not be disturbed, but she left this for you,” said Mrs Giles, the housekeeper, handing him a sealed letter.

After breakfast, Jonathan opened it to find a curt little note in which Amelia-Jane reiterated her desire to return to the Dower House and her total opposition to any move to Hertfordshire, saying rather melodramatically, “I would rather die!”—after which she was able, surprisingly, to wish him well and urge him to “mind that you do not let James Wilson and the rest of those wretched Whigs take advantage of your obliging nature.”

Jonathan was sad and confused. Sad that she had set her mind so firmly against a plan that meant a good deal to him, and confused because he could not understand why she had done so.

Not being privy to the snobbery and pretentiousness with which Caroline Bingley and Arabella Watkins had filled her head, he could not know how badly advised she was. Singing the praises of Rosings and Bath, whose constricting social mores were upheld as the epitome of upper class behaviour, they had consistently referred to places like Woodlands and Netherfield as provincial and lacking in style. When the first suggestions had come that Jonathan might want to move from the Dower House at Rosings Park, both women had urged her not to leave, but to attempt to reach an accommodation with the new manager of the Trust.

Miss Bingley had even suggested mischievously that, with Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam on the board, they would surely not evict her and her children if she stayed.

“They would not want the embarrassment, my dear,” she had declared, all the while entertaining the hope of seeing the family embarrassed by just such a contretemps!

Elizabeth was right about Caroline Bingley.

So deeply mortified had she been by her brother's determination to marry Jane Bennet and, to add insult to injury, by Elizabeth's marriage to Mr Darcy, that she sank into deep resentment, which she hid beneath a veneer of civility. Every so often, however, it broke through in the kind of petty spitefulness that Elizabeth and her sister had long since learned to treat with contempt.

On this occasion though, by being instrumental in the destruction of Jonathan Bingley's peace of mind, if not his marriage, she had reached a new level of malice. In this vicious exercise, she had been ably assisted by her newfound friend, Mrs Arabella Watkins.

A woman of mean understanding, little learning, and no taste, who had made her way in the world by ingratiating herself with those she considered to be her superiors, Arabella Watkins had money, but no other means to gain entrée into Bath society.

By the merest chance, she had been at the home of a Lady Gertrude _______, widow of a well-known Admiral, whither she had gone to seek a position as a paid companion, advertised in the local journal.

Mrs Watkins was being interviewed for this situation when the two Bingley sisters had called on Lady Gertrude.

Recalling a previous meeting with Caroline Bingley in London, sometime before the death of her second husband, and seeing a valuable social opportunity, she had introduced herself and, thereafter, used every occasion to consolidate her acquaintance with them.

Caroline Bingley, being single and without the contacts that enabled titled women to trawl the social scene for useful hangers-on, had welcomed, with but a few reservations, the egregious attentions of Mrs Watkins. She was certainly useful, being quite free with her money and time, whenever the Bingley women required her company.

Caroline had spoken highly of her to her sister Mrs Hurst, who had by now reached an age when she was disinclined to expend much effort or time on any person or activity that did not directly benefit herself.

Caroline promoted the value of Mrs Watkins to her sister.

“Arabella Watkins is the type of person who is genuinely obliging and helpful. Nothing is too difficult for her nor too tedious, if it will please a friend,” she said and, in that instant, sealed for her worthless protégé another niche in Bath society, as the preferred companion of the Bingley sisters, who would accompany them wherever they went, ever ready to aid and abet in all their schemes, without actually imposing upon them.

When Amelia-Jane had first visited them in Bath, there had been no Arabella Watkins, and Caroline Bingley had made much of her nephew's wife, introducing her to all her friends and taking her to what she claimed were all the right places, where a woman of fashion and consequence would wish to be seen. Young enough to be gulled by the show of influence, Amelia-Jane had thought Caroline a kind woman who wanted to be her friend.

When she next visited the city, for the funeral of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, the indefatigable Arabella Watkins had joined the Bingley sisters, and young Amelia-Jane had no chance of escape.

Already depressed and unhappy after the loss of her sons, she had been ripe for picking, and the efforts of Mrs Watkins paid off handsomely, as she became to young Mrs Bingley a friend and confidante who would provide a sympathetic ear for all her complaints.

It was the very last thing that Amelia-Jane needed.

None of this was known to her husband, who still hoped for a late conversion to his way of thinking. He loved and cared for her and hoped she would finally see that they had no other practical alternative; they had to leave Rosings by Christmas. Too interested in Netherfield to be easily deterred, Jonathan had decided to seek his parents' opinion.

On the following day, he travelled to Woodlands to see them and to convey the good news regarding the imminent return of Lord Palmerston to government to Colonel Fitzwilliam and Caroline.

Arriving at Woodlands, he was greeted effusively as some sort of hero by the Fitzwilliams and more soberly, though with no less affection, by the rest of the family.

His mother was especially pleased because she had been very anxious ever since reading Charlotte's letter. She was truly happy to learn that Amelia-Jane had returned to Kent and was even now with her children at the Dower House in Rosings Park, where she would spend the rest of the Summer.

“And what about you, Jonathan?” she asked. “What will you do now?”

Jonathan replied quickly that there was still much work to be done at Westminster. “I shall be busy all week, Mama, and will continue to stay at Grosvenor Street, but I do intend to go down to Kent as often as possible,” he declared, trying to set her heart at rest.

During and after dinner, he told them of his plans for Netherfield Park. He intended to use some of his savings and the money left to him by Lady Catherine to make an offer for the property, he explained.

They were all interested. Bingley declared that he had heard the new owners had made several improvements, and Darcy expressed the hope they had not destroyed the character of the early Georgian house.

Jonathan was happy to be able to assure them that yes, there had been much good work done with modern plumbing and lighting, and no, since it had been carefully and sensitively done, it had certainly not ruined the character of the place.

“Indeed, sir, while Netherfield House looks much like it always did, the lawns, walks, and shrubbery have been incorporated into the new plan of the park with great naturalness. The interior, too, looks most impressive, with new drapes and rugs; Armstrong tells me it has greatly enhanced the value of the property. However, I do not wish to rely upon his word alone, and I wondered if you and Mama would drive down with me and give me the benefit of your opinion,” he said, pointing out, furthermore, that once they gave up the Dower House, they would need a country residence, not too distant from London.

“And where better than Netherfield Park, where my parents fell in love and I was born?”

Both Jane and Bingley, whose romance had been a matter of great moment at the time, engrossing not just their families, but the whole village, smiled at his words. Netherfield Park held a very special niche in their hearts.

Jane thought this was indeed a happy chance for Jonathan to acquire the place for his family.

“Everyone I speak with agrees it is a valuable property, and the asking price seems reasonable,” said Jonathan, and his father broke in, “Well, Jonathan, it's Darcy who can tell you if it's worth the money. He's the best judge of these matters. I have always relied on his opinion.”

Jonathan turned to his uncle. “Mr Darcy, will you advise me, sir? I really must decide or I may lose it.”

Darcy and Elizabeth looked at each other and smiled and, as if on the spur of the moment, a decision was made that they would all go to Netherfield Park, except Fitzwilliam and Caroline, who were returning to Derbyshire.

There was general excitement as they confessed to having a sentimental attachment to Hertfordshire. A date was agreed and, when Jonathan returned to London, they had arranged to meet at Grosvenor Street, where they would stay overnight before leaving for Netherfield Park.

Jonathan had been delighted with their response to his plans. If only he had been able to persuade Amelia-Jane to see it in a similar light, he thought, wistfully.

***

Back in London, he wrote three letters.

The first, to Armstrong the agent, advising him of the date of their proposed visit to inspect the property.

The second, to Dr Faulkner, apologising for failing to keep their appointment and expressing a hope that they could meet when he visited Longbourn the following month.

“And perhaps if you had some time to spare, we could arrange to see Hatfield House then,” he added hopefully.

In a postscript, he asked that his apologies be also conveyed to Miss Anna Faulkner for his failure to collect the drawing of Matlock Bridge, and promising to collect it the very next time he was in the district.

The last letter was to his mother-in-law, Charlotte Collins, informing her that Amelia-Jane had returned to Rosings Park with the two youngest children, Tess and Cathy.

He did add a little hint that they might welcome a visit from her.