With Love's Light Wings Page 6

  “Are you certain of this man, Bingley?” asked he at length of Jane.

  “I am, Uncle,” replied Jane. “There is no better man than Mr. Bingley; I have no doubts of his affection, his ability to be his own man, or his ability to fend off well-meaning friends, or dare I say, even a sister who wishes he would focus his attention in another direction.”

  Mr. Gardiner snorted, for there was no one in the district who misunderstood Miss Bingley’s interest in the heir of Pemberley. The lady’s desire that Mr. Bingley connect himself to young Georgiana Darcy, who was still only seventeen, was not as well understood, that being the province of the more observant of society. Mr. Gardiner was among those who could see the way the wind blew with ease.

  “Then I shall support you,” said Mr. Gardiner. “Perhaps, however, we should attempt to assist Mr. Bingley ourselves. Should we offer our assistance, he will not be so dependent upon Pemberley.”

  “Mr. Bingley can manage his own affairs,” replied Jane. “But I cannot think such an offer would be amiss, should the occasion arise.”

  “Then I shall do so when the opportunity presents itself,” said Mr. Gardiner. “Until then, I shall only wish you every happiness with Mr. Bingley, Jane. There is no one who deserves happiness more than you.”

  “Amen,” was Elizabeth’s soft but fervent reply. With that statement, she could not agree more.

  Chapter V

  It was a curious fact of the family at Longbourn that there were no close relations bearing the name Bennet. While there were some distant cousins, descendants of this aunt, or that cousin, they were all descended from female lines, and while the current Lord Arundel had two younger brothers, both had perished before their tenth birthdays. Thus, the only members of the family bearing the name Bennet all lived at Longbourn.

  What they lacked in closeness with Lord Arundel’s side of the family was more than made up for with respect to Lady Margaret Bennet’s relations, of whom there were many. It is not the purpose of this work to detail in great length the branches of Lady Margaret’s family tree. Of more importance to the matter at hand was the members of her close relations, which comprised two brothers, one of whom had his own family.

  The eldest brother, Mr. David Gardiner, was the master of Shambling Hall, which, though it may not have possessed the most distinguished of names, was a large estate of about eight thousand pounds per annum—or equal in size to Longbourn—and boasted a large and respectable manor house. Mr. Gardiner, though now five and thirty years of age, was yet unmarried, and had lived alone at the manor since his mother’s passing two years earlier, his father having passed some ten years before.

  The younger brother, Mr. Edward Gardiner, was the parson at Lambton. Mr. Gardiner, unlike his brother, was three and thirty and had been married the past eight years to Madeline Plumber, the younger daughter of a gentleman of more modest means of the neighborhood. Together, the Gardiners had produced four children, the eldest, Abigail, and her two younger brothers, James and Benjamin, and an infant girl, Sophie.

  The Gardiner brothers were similar men, both in stature, the dark hair which curled about their heads, their dark brown eyes and upright bearing. Their characters were also alike, though, being a parson, the younger was more pious, while the elder possessed more of a temper. But both were excellent men, and the Bennets were very fond of them.

  It was the custom of the family to gather often—at least once a week on Sundays—to partake of a large family dinner. The location of this dinner alternated between Shambling Hall and Longbourn, as the parsonage was too small to accommodate them all. On the evening in question, Longbourn was the site for their usual weekly family dinner.

  Given the composition of those gathered together and the presence of five young women, conversation was always lively at the dinner table. That evening it consisted of various subjects, but after a time, turned to one not palatable for Elizabeth’s taste.

  “You have had no further meetings with Mr. Darcy?” asked her Uncle Gardiner of Elizabeth. To avoid confusion when referring to the brothers, the Bennet sisters were in the habit of calling the younger brother Uncle Edward.

  “No, Uncle,” replied Elizabeth. “Nor would I have expected it. It was, as I informed you before, an accidental meeting, and one I do not think Mr. Darcy is eager to repeat.”

  “One can never be certain when it pertains to the Darcy family,” said Lord Arundel.

  It did not escape Elizabeth’s attention that members of her family often made such statements of the Darcy family, but with little evidence, and with casual authority rather than conviction. The mention of the Darcy family, however, drew the attention of her younger uncle.

  “This is the first I have heard of this. Which Mr. Darcy did you meet?”

  “The younger,” said Elizabeth, thinking it was obvious. Had the elder man come across her, Elizabeth thought it unlikely he would do anything other than sniff with disdain and ride away.

  At her uncle’s prompting, Elizabeth was obliged to repeat the story of the encounter, a matter which had been unknown to anyone other than her father, her elder uncle, and Jane. When she completed her tale, Elizabeth was quick to add:

  “It was a minor matter altogether. Mr. Darcy and I did not speak much, and I soon left. The gentleman did not follow me when I left him.”

  “Using the term ‘gentleman’ may be a stretch for anyone bearing the Darcy name,” said Lord Arundel. “Though they have the land and connections for the title, their behavior is anything but gentlemanly.”

  Elizabeth thought to protest, but her Uncle Edward spoke before she opened her mouth. “It has long been a matter of much curiosity and confusion to me that the Bennets and Darcys do not get on, and no one has ever explained the origin of the dispute to my satisfaction. Do you care to elaborate, Brother?”

  Lord Arundel, to whom he had directed the question, shrugged. “I do not know the beginning of our antipathy. That does not change the fact that I have never known the Darcys to deal fairly with anyone.”

  Uncle Edward and his wife exchanged a glance. “It is interesting to hear you speak so, for I have often met the Darcys—the father and his sons—in Lambton and have never had so much as a cross word from any of them.”

  “Young Miss Darcy is a lovely and gentle creature,” added Mrs. Gardiner. “She has often stopped in the street to speak with me, and she never gave the impression she thought herself proud or above her company.”

  “Oh, Georgiana Darcy is as far from the pride displayed by the rest of her family as hot is to cold,” said Lydia.

  Lord Arundel’s eyes found his youngest daughter. “And have you met with Miss Darcy often enough to know her character? It was my understanding that Bennets spoke with Darcys but little, regardless of Lizzy’s recent fraternizing with the elder son.”

  Elizabeth noted the grin with which her father favored her and knew he was teasing.

  “No, I dare say I have not exchanged two words with Miss Darcy in my life,” replied Lydia. “But one only has to see her to know she is reticent and shy.”

  “That she is, Lydia,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “Whatever you may think of the other Darcys, Miss Darcy has no part in pride or unchristian tendencies you may attribute to the other members of the family.”

  “Again, I will assert I have seen nothing of such tendencies in the first place,” pressed Uncle Edward.

  “Do you forget the offense of the younger son?” asked his brother, his mild tone belied by his sharp look at his brother.

  “By all accounts that was an accident, as much your fault as his,” said Uncle Edward, meeting his brother’s gaze with a pointed look of his own. “Do you still hold a grudge against the younger Darcy? If so, I hope you will release it, for by all accounts he is to return soon.”

  “He is?” asked Lord Arundel and Mr. Gardiner in unison.

  Uncle Edward shrugged. “It is something that has been rumored in Lambton of late. There is some talk from the Pemberley servants that M
r. Darcy wishes his son to return home to complete his education in managing an estate. The younger Darcy does, if you recall, own an estate, but his elder brother has managed it for some years in his stead.”

  “Then I hope Mr. Darcy has some success in taming his son,” said Lord Arundel. “While you may not put any stock in our opinions of the general characters of the family, the younger son has long been known to be wild.”

  “That I will not dispute,” said Uncle Edward. “I will note that his character is tame compared to many other young men of his station, though he is too boisterous for my taste.”

  Lord Arundel nodded and returned his attention to his plate. The family was quiet for a few moments, and Elizabeth was relieved the discussion seemed to have wound to a close. However, her relief was soon revealed to be nothing more than wishful thinking.

  “I do not carry a grudge,” said Uncle Gardiner after a moment, “if that is what you are suggesting.”

  “That is well,” said Uncle Edward. He directed a pointed look at his brother and added: “For a time after the event, you were contemplating calling him out if my memory is accurate.”

  “Aye, you were at that,” said Lord Arundel. “In fact, I remember you hobbling about my sitting-room, muttering epithets about any and all Darcys.”

  “Yet that was a sixmonth ago,” replied Mr. Gardiner. “The injury was not substantial and I have healed with no lasting effects.”

  “So you would still be angry with him if your injury was more substantial?” asked Uncle Edward.

  “It seems to me that any man would be,” rejoined his brother. “That is nothing more than human nature.”

  “That does not make it right. It has often been my opinion that a man who has not mastered his baser impulses is an enemy to God, and this only proves my supposition. Do the scriptures not say we must forgive all men, lest we receive no forgiveness for our sins?

  “I would counsel you to forget old grievances, Brother, for allowing hatred and resentment to fester in your heart can only lead to ill ends.”

  “As I have said,” replied Uncle Gardiner, his tone a warning his brother to cease harping on the subject, “I have no resentment for the younger Darcy. What may have been is not at issue, for I will never know what might have been.

  “What I will say is I have often been uncertain of the Darcy family, though I will own I have no experiences which I can use to point to their dishonest characters. As you all know,” said he, looking about the room, “the Darcys have a good name, not only in Derbyshire but also in town. Thus, I try to be careful near them, and I make no overt accusations.”

  “This sounds too much like a dispute,” said Lady Margaret, glaring at her brothers. “Please avoid arguing at my table.”

  “I apologize if it seems like I was provoking an argument,” said Uncle Edward, attempting to placate his sister. “As my brother has declared he holds no grudges, I shall leave the subject be. I hope a détente can be reached with the Darcy family, for it seems we have all perpetuated this dispute with no notion of why.”

  “You may be correct, Edward,” replied Lord Arundel. “I will not go looking for trouble with the Darcy family, but I will retain my reserve until they can prove their goodness. I hope you will not fault me for determining to protect myself and my family.”

  “No man can be faulted for protecting his family. I only hope you do not attribute unchristian behavior to others without reason.”

  “Never that,” murmured Lord Arundel. They all dropped the subject for other, more general matters.

  As the days passed, Elizabeth’s thoughts returned to that dinner conversation often, and she could not help but think in different ways, they were all correct. Given the longstanding enmity between the families, it was only prudent to remain watchful of the Darcys. That was also true for her Uncle Gardiner, who had sustained an injury at least in part because of a Darcy.

  However, her Uncle Edward was also correct. The Bennets were a good Christian family, and by all accounts, the Darcys were the same, though Pemberley was a part of the Kympton parish, and as a result, the Darcys worshiped there. The Bible had never been ambiguous about the need to forgive others—Christ himself taught that one should forgive another seventy times seven times, which Elizabeth had always taken to mean one should extend forgiveness as many times as necessary.

  Did that require the offended party to accept whatever abuse the perpetrator saw fit to unleash, all while forgiving without hope of relief? The question was one better asked of her Uncle Edward, but she did not think that was the purpose of the commandment, for it seemed to her the Bible said nothing of allowing persecution. Forgiveness itself was important, for not allowing oneself to forgive allowed anger to fester, ill-feelings to grow, which could bring great future pain.

  It was Elizabeth’s opinion that forgiveness between the Bennets and the Darcys both applied and did not apply to the situation. It applied because the commandment to forgive encompassed all, and the consequences of perpetuating the grudge between them carried the potential for future harm; her uncle had already been injured once. Who knew if it would happen again?

  Where it did not apply was the fact that no one—not even the two patriarchs of the family—could remember the initial offense. Mr. Bingley’s testimony of his friend’s response when asked on the matter was evidence, albeit not proof, that the Darcy sire knew no more of the origins of the dispute than did her father. As there were no specific injuries to forgive, did that not make the continued dispute even more ridiculous?

  There was no one in the family to whom she could speak unless she went to Lambton to counsel with her uncle. Mary would agree with her, Elizabeth knew, but she also possessed a moralizing streak, meaning anything Elizabeth said on the matter might provoke her younger sister to preach to the rest of the family, which she did not want. Jane would also agree with Elizabeth, but that was more a function of her inability to think poorly of anyone, while the youngest Bennets would laugh and turn the conversation to something else. Even Lord and Lady Margaret were not options, for her father did not concern himself much with the situation, and her mother, outside of a few occasional comments, had little interest in it.

  Elizabeth could not determine why the matter seemed so important to her now, for she had thought little on it in the past. Somehow her uncle’s words, coupled with her meeting with Mr. Darcy combined to make her wary of the situation. Whether Mr. Darcy had, in some manner, given her to understand he was not the man her family had always thought, even given the testiness of their exchange, Elizabeth could not say. But it was now a matter of some interest to her, leading to a desire to unravel the mystery and heal the breach.

  Had Elizabeth been left to herself it is possible she may have worried to excess on the matter. It was fortunate that she was not allowed the opportunity for constant reflection, for Longbourn was a busy home with eight residents and the servants, the occasional visits of relations and friends to keep her company. In particular, there was one who often clamored for her attention in those days.

  “Can we not go out of doors, Lizzy?” asked her younger brother, Thomas, more than once. “Are the frogs living along the river? I should like to catch some.”

  Though the Bennet siblings were affectionate with one another, Elizabeth had long been Thomas’s favorite sister, because, Elizabeth thought, she was the one who indulged him and joined him in his games. Playing with toy soldiers was not a favorite, though Elizabeth often got down on the floor with him, leading to her mother’s lamentations. While none of her sisters could countenance capturing frogs, her father had taught her the best ways to do it many years ago. Thus, Elizabeth thought it was her duty to pass her learning down to her youngest sibling.

  The next day, when young Master Bennet was released from his studies, the two of them dressed in warm clothes and departed for the nearby river, though with Lord Arundel’s admonishments concerning the danger of going near the waters ringing in their ears. The day was fine,
though perhaps cooler than the weather had been of late. Elizabeth guided her young brother along, talking and laughing with him as she walked.

  As it turned out, however, their efforts that day were in vain, for they could discover no hopping denizens anywhere nearby. They searched, for Thomas was not to be denied without an argument, but could find no sign of the amphibians he desired.

  “It is not a surprise we found nothing today, Tommy,” said Elizabeth, her affection for the boy prompting her to ruffle his hair. “Given the cold of the day, I would have been surprised if we had found any, and it is still early in the season.”

  “Where do the frogs go when there is snow?” asked the young boy, looking up at her with trust in his eyes.

  “I do not quite know,” replied Elizabeth with a straight face, unwilling to enter a conversation of the hibernation and mating habits of amphibians with her innocent brother. “Perhaps they find some warmth under the water which they find to their taste.”

  Thomas looked up at her, curiosity and concentration in his crinkled brow. “Do they not need to breathe?”

  “I believe frogs may hold their breath for some time, but yes, they must breathe. When the spring becomes warmer and the snow is all gone, there is a greater chance of finding some. Then I shall teach you how to capture them.”

  The boy continued to give her a serious look. “I hope we may do it soon, for I long to hold one in my hands. Perhaps I shall give it to Lydia—she might appreciate it as much as you do.”

  With a laugh, Elizabeth shook her head. “It would be best if you refrained from giving her such gifts, my dear brother, for none of our sisters appreciate the finer points of a lively frog. If you are careful and do not allow her to catch you in the act, you may even be able to smuggle one into mother’s bed!”