Chapter Text
When Mr. Charles Bingley rode into Hertfordshire to acquaint himself with Netherfield Park it was on a purely accidental recommendation. Bingley was the sort of open, easy young man whom people would not scruple to share their opinions with, and the solicitor who took it upon himself to advocate for Netherfield could certainly not be blamed for seeing a very desirable tenant in him. Bingley was at that time not yet of age two years and unmarried, and he had the sort of good-humoured and generous character that must recommend him to almost anybody. It certainly recommended him to the owner of Netherfield Park, who was more than happy to accompany Bingley when he came to look at the house. He did look at it, and into it for half an hour, was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.
Such was the way Bingley was generally used to dispatch his business, with good sense and greater enthusiasm. It was an aspect of his character that had often served him well, even if it frequently led him to amend plans that he had previously proclaimed fixed.
Because in truth, it had not been Bingley’s intent to take a house at this time, it had been his object to purchase. Mr. Bingley belonged to a respectable family in the north of England, the eldest son of a man who had had all the advantage of good breeding and an even better sense of business. As such Bingley had inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. Bingley intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county, but had yet to find a place that suited him exactly. For all his quickness of action, he was not a thoughtless man, the choice of the future family home he regarded as a very serious matter. It is certainly possible therefore that Netherfield, despite its undeniable virtues, was particularly suitable precisely because it was not to be purchased. In becoming its tenant Bingley was unchecked and unreserved in its praise, where as its potential buyer he might have been forced into being more critical than his temper generally led him to be.
“Really, Charles,” his sister said to him upon his return to London, in an accent containing all the criticism her brother lacked. “I had hoped you were serious in your desire to purchase this time. To purchase an estate, brother. I would so much like to see you settled.”
“Dear Caroline,” he said in a tone of cheerful contradiction. “Not one fortnight ago you found fault with Hertfordshire as a place to settle at all. But here is a fine house with a good park from which we may get to know the place, as easy as we like. And if it is not to our liking, we are free to move where we are better pleased. But you shall like it, I am sure. It is so very pleasantly situated, and such an easy distance from town.”
Caroline Bingley rearranged her shawl and sighed. She was most anxious for her brother to have an estate of his own. This was born partly from genuine affection, and partly because a family estate would supply a lack that had been an increasing vexation to Caroline ever since her coming out. Having always been rather handsome, her education in one of the first private seminaries in town and her fortune of twenty thousand pounds had allowed Miss Bingley to develop a habit of spending more than she ought, and of associating with people of rank. She was therefore in every respect entitled to think well of herself and her own, and meanly of others and frequently did so. “Oh well,” she relented. “I shall take great pleasure in fitting up your rooms. These out of date country houses provide a good canvas if nothing else. Who is it you are writing to?”
“To Darcy,” her brother replied readily, once again bent over his writing desk. “He is forever inviting us to stay with him and I am at last in a position to return the favour! If I have my way he will be of the party when you and Louisa come down in November.”
“Mr. Darcy!” his sister exclaimed, her spirits increased almost to her brother’s heights. “Charles, how delightful. We shall be a merry party indeed.”
The friend who had the distinction of being such a favourite of both brother and sister was a Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire and distinction was the exact word for their friendship in his particular case. For while Mr. Darcy had many admirers, he had, by his own admission, only few friends.
This is generally not considered something to boast of, but there is of course a considerable difference between a person whose lack of friends springs forth from an unpleasant manner in dealing with others, or from a reluctance to call one a friend without very serious attachment. Darcy possessed a character that, in a proof of its complexity, united both. His nicety in regards to what a friend must be was great, but so was the intimidating effect his manner had on any new acquaintance he happened to make. His birth, fortune and respectability must recommend him to anyone, but his stiffness and formality with anyone he considered a stranger did much to counteract them.
It should be regarded without any surprise therefore that Darcy, on receiving a letter from one he considered in every sense of the word a friend, readily postponed his intended business to read it.
The letter was to this effect:
Dear Darcy,
I have taken a house! It is a fine house in a pleasant country neighbourhood and I mean to be in it by Michaelmas.
Caroline has agreed to keep house for me and I am certain she will approve my choice. You may recall her wanting me to purchase an estate, but as I have not quite made choice of my county this place will do famously for the present time.
The house is called Netherfield and it is full of every comfort. Save a few adjustments it suits my taste in every way. Do not ask me whether it is elegant, I do not pretend to know. I daresay Caroline will take it upon herself to make it so.
The nearby town is charming. So small one could know everyone by sight. It is a delight to me.
You will be pleased with the grounds especially I am sure. They are nothing to Pemberly, but they are very pretty. If you would come to me you could judge for yourself. Indeed I wish you would! Join me when Caroline does and we shall be a merry party. Louisa says she has half a mind to come down also, if her husband might be persuaded. I do hope she does, for then we will be five altogether and just the number for comfortable evenings at home. Netherfield has the pleasantest drawing room.
I remain, etc.
C. Bingley
Darcy must shake his head at such a letter, but it drew a smile from him as well. Ever since their friendship was formed, Darcy could not but note in all their intercourse, how different Bingley was to himself. However pleased with his own character, Darcy was not so ungenerous to regard it as the only character worth having and he valued Bingley very highly. They had met at university, and despite Bingley being five years his junior and the great opposition of character between them, had formed a very steady friendship. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. Darcy was endeared to Bingley despite his fastidiousness and reserve, for while nothing could sway Darcy from the former, it proved extremely difficult for even the most unsociable of men to long hold out against Charles Bingley’s tireless good humour. This barrier once worn down, Bingley had uncovered in Darcy’s character a cleverness which he greatly admired, and a degree of loyalty and moral conviction that he found most reassuring. They were not fast friends, but once they were, Bingley had the firmest reliance on the strength of Darcy’s regard, and of his judgment the highest opinion.
Darcy was aware of this and took care to return these sentiments with perhaps not always equal strength, but certainly all the affection they deserved. Had he not already resolved to pay his sister a surprise visit on her seaside holiday in Ramsgate, he would gladly have accepted Bingley’s invitation early that summer to accompany him as he went off to look into some country houses which had caught his fancy. They had had much talk upon the advantages and disadvantages one must encounter in purchasing an estate or taking a lease, and Darcy was flattered, though not surprised, that Bingley would value his direct involvement in his choice. His sister’s happiness, of course, must take precedent, but the excuse was made with a sincerity that Darcy knew Bingley would know how to value.
When he left Bingley, however, Darcy was fairly sure his friend would soon settle on one of the houses he had then tentatively selected. If not for purchase then to let. For Bingley had a lively disposition and was in the habit of acting quickly and worrying little, once he had taken a liking to a place or a person.
This quickness of manner translated almost directly to the style of his letters and when Darcy turned the paper over he was not at all surprised to find a postscript, even more hastily written than the letter itself:
It is a good thing I forgot to send this letter when I finished it for I have just had word that Mr and Mrs. Hurst will come down when Caroline does, so you certainly must come. Indeed you must, because I remember very well that I made you promise me at the beginning of the year to visit me as soon as I had secured a place for you to come to. Do not say I did no such thing, for if I did not I certainly meant to do it and that must be enough. So do come with me when I come to town in October, or you will be sorely missed. Adieu!
This postscript was quite unnecessary, Darcy had already made up his mind to go. He was not very fond of new society, but he was very fond of Bingley, and as it was his friend had made him promise to visit him and Darcy had always intended to. It had always seemed likely to him that Caroline Bingley would be keeping house for her brother and Darcy had therefore already calculated that spending time with Bingley would mean spending time with Caroline also.
Caroline Bingley, as far as Darcy was concerned, was one of those complicated people that united good company with frequent embarrassing circumstances. Darcy had always been quite fond of Caroline. She was a pleasing, accomplished young woman and being his good friend’s sister he had been predisposed to like her. During their last meeting in town however Darcy had made the rather mortifying discovery that however fond he might be of Caroline, her fondness for him was excessively greater. Darcy did not quite know how to deal with this and rather hoped that Miss Bingley’s designs on him would fade with the absence of encouragement. He had certainly taken care to give her no encouragement thus far, so Darcy felt no real uneasiness in the prospect of going to stay with the Bingley’s for a month or two.
The only reservations he had was that it would mean leaving his sister at home by her own, save the company of her companion Mrs. Annersly, at a time when he was most unsure of leaving her. Georgiana was not so disappointed as he had feared, however, when he told her that evening that his friend Charles Bingley had taken a house and that he had asked him to come and stay with him for a month or two.
“I am glad Mr. Bingley has found an estate that is to his liking,” she said sincerely. “It must have been so hard on him to have been without a home.”
Home, where the Darcys were concerned, even when they could not be there, was Pemberley; a noble estate in a fine part of Derbyshire. On this estate both Darcy and his sister Georgiana, who was more than ten years his junior, had been brought up with all the advantages of rank and prosperity. The death of their father some 5 years earlier had made Darcy its sole proprietor, but in losing its original master Pemberley had also ceased to be the Darcys’ only home. Georgiana, now under the careful guardianship of her brother and her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, son of the Earl of -------, had at first been placed at an excellent school, while her brother adjusted to his new responsibilities. Last spring, however, Darcy had taken her from school and formed an establishment for her in London, where her education could be forwarded with the most expedience. She had always come down to Pemberley for the summer months, but his intention had been for the both of them to be more steadily fixed in town.
That she was currently residing at Pemberley once more was not by choice, but by necessity. Just as his continued accompaniment of her was, while of course motivated by affection, equally born from anxiety. The last time they had been apart she had been made to suffer in a most cruel way under circumstances they both wished to forget. Darcy had at once removed her from Ramsgate and returned her to the comfort of their family home, but he knew Pemberley could be a lonely place. And although he knew he could rely on Mrs. Annersly, who was an intelligent, well-bred woman with a real affection for his sister, he was still reluctant to leave Georgiana alone and anxious not to bring her any fresh pain. Up until now this had been accomplished by not quitting her longer than the two or three days it might take to settle his business in London. Accepting Bingley’s inviation, however, would break this resolution, and he was relieved to hear no distress in Georgiana’s voice when he introduced the idea to her.
“Bingley is such a man that might feel at home anywhere,” Darcy observed. “So to be without a fixed home is not so great an evil to him as it would be to many others. Still, he writes me that he is very pleased with the house and I own that I am quite curious to see it.”
“Then you shall enjoy your visit,” Georgiana said with tolerable cheerfulness. “And Mrs. Annersly and I will be quite comfortable here. At any rate,” she added, brightening considerably. “There shall be no need to host any dinners or parties while you are away.”
Darcy laughed softly. His sister, though now sixteen years old, had always been exceedingly shy. Many attempts had been made to teach her to take pleasure in the duties that befall a lady that is the head of a household, but so far her progress was endearingly slow. Endearing to Darcy especially, who while grown into a rather gracious host, was still frequently an extremely reluctant guest.
“I shall speak to Mrs. Annersly,” Darcy smiled. “And tell her that there is no need to force you into company for the time being, there shall be enough social engagements in town this winter.”
Georgiana looked relieved and expressed her resolution of practising her drawing a great deal while he was away, so that he might see her improvement when they met again. Darcy praised her industriousness, but was not easy before he had questioned her some more, wanting to be really assured that she would not mind staying behind. She had been but eleven years old when their father died and, their mother having died some years before, he had taken up the role of her primary caregiver. He had always been a most careful guardian and her recent mistreatment had made him an apprehensive one.
Presently, however, the events of early this summer seemed far from Georgiana’s mind, as she assured her brother it would be very agreeable to her to spend some time quietly at home with Mrs. Annersly, whom she liked and respected very much.
His sister’s comforts so secured Darcy wrote back to Bingley that he was to go to town on business anyway early in October and that he was quite willing to afterwards join him at Netherfield instead of returning to Pemberly. He received an answer by return of post that this was exactly according to Bingley’s wishes and everything was therefore quite settled to their mutual satisfaction.