Murder at Netherfield Page 10

  Though annoyed with her father’s propensity to seek amusement above all other considerations, Elizabeth knew that he could not be reasoned with when he was in such a mood. Her mother, her understanding of her husband ever less than perfect, appeared confused. The way she looked at Elizabeth suggested she had something to say. Elizabeth was grateful, however, when she subsided for the moment.

  Unfortunately, the rest of the evening was little better than it began, though Mr. Darcy’s outburst at his aunt directed Lady Catherine’s attention back to him and away from Elizabeth. But while Jane seemed to enjoy her evening and was rarely separated from Mr. Bingley, the rest of the company was tense. The possible exception, of course, was Mrs. Bennet. For while she regarded Lady Catherine at first with annoyance, having heard Lady Catherine’s remarks at Elizabeth, soon she was distracted by Jane and Mr. Bingley. And she was not the kind of woman to allow such welcome circumstances to pass without comment.

  “Is it not wonderful the way Mr. Bingley and our Jane have taken to each other?” asked she of her husband before the soup course had even been cleared away. “They look so good together, too, and after such a short time! And I dare say they are good for each other!”

  If she had spoken in a quiet tone, it might have passed the notice of the rest of the company. But Mrs. Bennet had never possessed the ability to moderate her voice. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst kept their countenances admirably, but it was clear to anyone with the wit to see that they were displeased. Mrs. Bennet continued speaking in such a fashion, and Mr. Bennet acknowledging her words without commenting himself, which prompted her to continue speaking.

  At another part of the table, Mr. Wickham had managed to seat himself close to Lydia and Kitty and was speaking to them in a soft voice, eliciting giggles and exclamations from the two girls. Elizabeth was too far away to hear them, but she knew they were not behaving with propriety. Then Mary would interject with some homily, to which no one paid attention, but which increased the cacophony about the table, especially when Lady Catherine continued to speak loudly, her words just short of berating Mr. Darcy. That gentlemen simply ignored her.

  “What a quaint company this is,” commented Miss Bingley, at length adding her voice to the discord. “What delights await us in this neighborhood. What a wonderful thing it is that my brother has stranded us here.”

  The glare she directed down the table, accompanied by the sneer she liberally bestowed on the two youngest Bennets and their mother, gave meaning to her statements. Elizabeth knew she could do nothing about her mother, but Kitty and Lydia were another matter, and she resolved in that instant to ensure they did no more damage to Jane’s chances with Mr. Bingley than they had already done.

  The feeling of ecstasy which came over Elizabeth could not be described when it finally was time to retire. She made her way above stairs, fleeing to her bedchamber, eager to be alone with her thoughts, away from termagants, proud young ladies, silly ones, and libertines. Would that this stay at Netherfield would come to an end as soon as possible, for she now wished for the comfortable and familiar walls of Longbourn more than she had in her entire life.

  As she reached the top of the stairs, she was confronted with the sight of Mr. Bennet facing an irate Lady Catherine. Of what they had been arguing she could not say, but she hoped her father had finally taken an interest in quelling Lady Catherine’s censure of her in particular.

  “You will oblige me, Mr. Bennet,” demanded Lady Catherine, giving the lie to Elizabeth’s hope.

  “I shall not, Lady Catherine,” retorted her father. “What you ask is unreasonable. I shall not yield.”

  Her father turned and without a hint of deference, entered his room. Lady Catherine huffed and turned away. She saw Elizabeth there and scowled, but she did not say anything, instead muttering under her breath at recalcitrant Bennets. Then she turned and stalked back down the stairs.

  Elizabeth fled to her room, closing the door behind her. In silence, she divested herself of her dress, braided her hair, and readied herself for bed. When the light was out, she went to the window, hoping against hope that something had changed to allow her to escape from this house. But it had not. For outside Netherfield’s walls, the wind howled, and the snow still fell.

  Chapter VIII

  By the next morning, the wind had abated, and while the snow still fell, Elizabeth was hopeful that it too would soon cease. Though she knew it might take a day or two before the conditions improved enough for them to depart, the sooner that happened, the better, in Elizabeth’s opinion.

  It was with a sense of purpose that Elizabeth rose and prepared for the day. With only one ladies’ maid and one upstairs maid between six ladies, the sisters had long been accustomed to assisting one another to dress. That morning Jane and Elizabeth dressed together, but as Jane was distracted and Elizabeth determined, few words passed between them. Once she was ready for the day, Elizabeth set out in search of her younger sisters.

  As they were not in their rooms, Elizabeth took herself below stairs, listening for the sound of their carrying on—always the easiest way to discover their whereabouts. It was not long before she located them in a small parlor. But they were not alone.

  “Lizzy!” exclaimed Lydia when she entered the room. “Come and join us. Mr. Wickham has been telling us the most amusing stories.”

  Mr. Wickham, who had stood at her entrance, bowed, though not without an insolent smirk. “Yes, Miss Elizabeth—please join us.”

  “He has, has he?” said Elizabeth, keeping a tight rein on her temper. “That is tempting, but, unfortunately, Mr. Wickham, I must have words with my sisters. Please excuse us at once.”

  The way Mr. Wickham regarded her suggested he knew exactly of what she wished to speak, but he inclined his head and made to depart anyway. Kitty and Lydia, of course, protested his going, but he did not take any heed to their cries.

  As he was passing by Elizabeth, he fixed his frivolous expression on her and said: “Your sisters are charming, Miss Elizabeth. I have rarely been so entertained in all my life.”

  “I would ask you, Mr. Wickham, to stay away from them,” said Elizabeth. “I know what you are about, sir, and I know something of your history. I will not stand for you trifling with my sisters.”

  Mr. Wickham’s amused smile never wavered. “Perhaps you should speak to them, Miss Elizabeth. They all but dragged me into this room.” Then he turned and was gone, Elizabeth watching him as warily as she would an asp.

  “Why must you always interrupt our fun?” demanded Lydia, with Kitty echoing her sentiments.

  “Enough, Lydia,” said Elizabeth.

  She stalked to her sisters and glared down on them. Lydia huffed and made to rise, but Elizabeth pushed her back down on the sofa, her severity informing her sister it would go ill for her if she continued to protest. Both girls knew enough of their sister to know when she would not be gainsaid, and while that did not often lead to them heeding her, at least they subsided.

  “Good,” said Elizabeth. “I have several matters of which I must speak, and Mr. Wickham is one of them. I must insist you stay strictly away from Mr. Wickham, for he is not a good man.”

  Kitty gasped, but Lydia shook her head with annoyance. “You only say that because he was paying attention to me this morning instead of you. I do not intend to allow you to keep him to yourself.”

  “He was paying attention to me too!” cried Kitty, unwilling to allow her sister to outdo her.

  Neither girl missed Elizabeth’s scowl, and they subsided yet again. “In fact, I will be staying well clear of Mr. Wickham myself. He is quite obviously lacking in sense and has very little respect for propriety. Furthermore, I have been told by both Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam that Mr. Wickham is most certainly not a good man. You will stay away from him.”

  “How can you say that, Lizzy?” demanded Lydia. It was very nearly a screech. “He is ever so charming and handsome and has such beautiful things t
o say.”

  “Mr. Darcy is just as handsome as Mr. Wickham, Lydia. A handsome countenance does not make a good man. It only makes one more dangerous for silly young gentlewomen.”

  Lydia glared mutinously at Elizabeth, but in the end, she chose not to speak. “I will be speaking with both Jane and Mary as well,” said Elizabeth. “None of us has any business even speaking with Mr. Wickham, and Mr. Bingley will send him on his way as soon as the weather allows it. Until then we must share a house with him. But we will not give him our attention. You will both give me your promises now.”

  While she knew they were half-hearted at best, both girls eventually gave their promise. Though not satisfied with their sincerity, Elizabeth decided it was all she would receive at present and resolved to remain vigilant.

  “The other matter of which I wish to speak is your carrying on when you should be speaking in a quiet and demure manner. Do not think I did not witness your behavior the night of the ball. At Longbourn, you may act that way and escape censure, but we are not at Longbourn now. You must start behaving as young ladies of your station!”

  “There is nothing the matter with us,” said Lydia with a sniff of disdain.

  “Oh? There is nothing wrong with chasing after officers, carrying on in loud laughter, speaking in loud voices of subjects you should not?”

  “I do not have to listen to this from you!” was Lydia’s spiteful reply.

  “Yes, you must!” spat Elizabeth.

  She glared at her younger sister, stalling her attempt to rise and take herself from the room. By her side, Kitty watched with astonishment and no little trepidation. While Lydia herself was usually no less than fearless, it seemed Elizabeth’s violent reaction had instilled a little of that emotion into her breast.

  “Have you both not heard the cutting comments from Mr. Bingley’s sisters and Lady Catherine? Have you not seen the censorious looks from Mr. Darcy, the shaken head of Colonel Fitzwilliam at your antics? Furthermore, have you not seen Mr. Bingley’s attentions to your eldest sister?”

  “What have Mr. Bingley and Jane to do with us?” This time Lydia’s tone was more sulky than angry.

  “What do you think will come of Mr. Bingley’s attentions to Jane?”

  Lydia replied with an uncaring shrug. Kitty, always the more governable of the two, said: “It appears he likes her very much. Do you think they will marry?”

  “I hope so, for Jane’s sake. But with such sisters as you, that is not at all certain.”

  Both girls’ voices rose in protest, but Elizabeth quelled them with a sharp look. “Our society prizes good behavior, and you two do not have the comportment you need. Mr. Bingley is a good man, but he is also the son of a tradesman. He is rising in the world, but when he marries, he requires not only a wife who knows how to behave—which Jane does—but also connections who will do him credit. You are not those connections with your present manner of conducting yourselves.

  “Furthermore, Miss Bingley is no friend to her brother’s interest in Jane. Your continual poor behavior only induces her to strive against Jane with more determination. She does not wish to acknowledge relations who will embarrass her in every drawing room in London!”

  “I cannot see how we have been so very bad,” said a sulky Lydia.

  “That is obvious, considering how obnoxious you have been.” Once again, Lydia frowned, but she decided against saying anything. “If you wish to know how to behave, then watch Jane. You could do no better than take her likeness as an example.

  “Do not ruin your sister’s chances at happiness. If you must think of it in such a way, consider this: if Jane should marry Mr. Bingley, she would then be a part of society in London. At some time or another, after you have proven you can comport yourselves properly, she may invite you to stay with her. That will not happen if you provoke Miss Bingley to persuade her brother against Jane.”

  Lydia heaved a great sigh of frustration. “Well, I suppose if you put it that way,” grumbled she.

  “I do, indeed.”

  “Then I suppose we have no choice. We will behave ourselves.”

  By her side, Kitty seemed a little surprised, but she nodded her willingness.

  “Good,” said Elizabeth. “You may go to the breakfast room. I will meet you there shortly.”

  The girls exited the room much subdued, Elizabeth watching them as they departed. All the while she was wondering if it had been enough. They would not change overnight—they would still require constant supervision. She would speak with Mary, and between her sister and herself, they would keep a constant eye on them.

  “You are incorrect in one way, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy as he stepped into the room after the youngest Bennets vacated it.

  It seemed she had been set in earnest contemplation, for she jumped when Darcy spoke. “I apologize, Miss Elizabeth,” said he hastily, raising his hands in a placatory gesture. “I had not meant to alarm you.”

  “It is no trouble, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Elizabeth. “I am afraid I was not attending to my surroundings.” She paused and looked at him, curiosity written in her expression. “Of what am I mistaken?”

  “The influence Miss Bingley has over her brother.”

  Miss Elizabeth gasped. “You overheard us speaking?”

  “Do not concern yourself,” replied Darcy. “You said nothing improper, and I only heard a little at the end. I believe you and I have something of . . . an understanding of each other. I can see you mean nothing more than to see your sister happy, and while I might have been concerned if I had not heard you speak on the subject, your manners disarm suspicion.”

  “You would have been concerned?”

  Darcy nodded, not without embarrassment. “I apologize, but your mother, in particular, does not inspire confidence. Her words last night might have led one to believe that her daughter would not be allowed to refuse a proposal from my friend.”

  A blush of mortification rose in Miss Elizabeth’s cheeks, and the idle thought struck Darcy that it made her look fetching, indeed. As he watched her as she struggled to find the words to offer in response, he acknowledged to himself for the first time that she was a pretty woman, which rendered her other qualities of liveliness, intelligence, and forthrightness all that much more attractive. For the first time, Darcy felt the pull of her allure, and he wondered, even as he shunted it to the back of his mind if he truly wished to resist it.

  “Thank you for giving us the benefit of the doubt, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Elizabeth at last. “My mother . . . She is concerned for our futures, and it sometimes leads her to be more eager than she ought.”

  “I have never doubted her affection for you all.”

  “No, though at times her way of showing it is not welcome. Jane will not accept anything from Mr. Bingley if she does not feel what she must for a husband. We Bennets can be a trying lot, but we are not lost to avarice.”

  “No, I never would have suspected you of it,” replied Darcy. Then he paused and grinned at her. “And my family is not the best-behaved either, so in that sense, I believe we are equal.”

  Darcy was heartened by the sight of her grin. “That, I suppose, is nothing less than the truth, Mr. Darcy, though I would not cast aspersions on you.” She sobered again. “I have warned my sisters away from Mr. Wickham and asked that they behave themselves. They have acquiesced, but I well know that they have not changed in essence. I hope you will assist—I do not trust your acquaintance in the slightest.”

  “I watch Wickham whenever he is near, Miss Elizabeth. You can be certain I will remain vigilant.”

  With a quiet word of thanks, Miss Elizabeth excused herself, no doubt to follow her sisters to the dining room. For the rest of the morning, he watched her, though he attempted to tell himself that he watched Wickham and the rest of the party as assiduously. It was fortunate that Lady Catherine was absent for breakfast, for Darcy had not the patience to endure her.

  By the afternoo
n, the snow had lessened, though biting cold had descended over Netherfield. The thoughts of Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, Bingley’s situation, and that of Darcy himself continued with him throughout the day, and as the afternoon wore on, Darcy decided he had best speak with Bingley. The eldest Miss Bennets were estimable ladies, and while Bingley’s attentions seemed fervent, he had seen the man’s attitude in the past. He found Bingley ensconced in his study with Fitzwilliam and Hurst.

  “Your aunt is the prickliest woman I have ever had the misfortune to meet, Darcy,” said Bingley when he entered the room. “I know not how you have endured her all these years.”

  “A great deal of practice,” jested Fitzwilliam.

  Hurst and Bingley seemed to think this was hilarious, for they broke into laughter. Darcy could only shake his head.

  “Has she done something else to make herself unwelcome?”

  “She has been pestering my housekeeper all day long,” said Bingley, his tone carrying more than a hint of annoyance. “It seems she believes the bedchamber to which she was assigned is not fine enough for her and wishes to be installed in one better.”

  “Dicked in the nob, she is,” said Fitzwilliam. “She should be happy she has shelter at all. We might have been caught in that storm, left stranded in some little hovel, or frozen to death in the carriage, all because of her dynastic ambitions.”

  Darcy grunted at his cousin’s echoing of Darcy’s own words. She truly was a foolish woman.

  “What of the weather?” asked Darcy. “It seems to me the snow has let up.”

  “It has to a certain extent,” replied Bingley. “But my groundskeeper informs me that the snow is deep and the wind has hardened it. The roads are in no condition for travel. I am afraid we are all stuck here together for the immediate future.”

  “With that bit of cheerful news,” said Fitzwilliam, before they could all settle into moroseness, “I believe I would like a game of billiards. Would any of you gentlemen care to join me?”