The Firstborn
Chapter Three
After a fortnight at Netherfield Park, Henry was obliged to return to Woodston. Parish business kept him busy and distracted for nearly a week, but the arrival of a tear-stained missive from Catherine restored him to lowness. Henry moped about the parsonage for several days until he received a note from Bingley, earnest even in its blots and missing words, pressing him to return to Hertfordshire. Henry was disinclined to accept the invitation, feeling that his curate, Mr. Taylor, had already shouldered more than his share.
Mr. Taylor was a married man of middle age, the former chaplain of General Tilney's regiment. An injury received in the line of duty rendered him unfit for further military service, and the General had granted him the curacy of Woodston, a situation ideally suited to a man of energetic temper and uncertain health. The salary was liberal, his duties were not onerous, and he was fond of the young rector, whose warm heart and easy manner endeared him to those of discerning sensibilities.
"Perhaps you should return to your friends," he said gently. "Hertfordshire did you a great deal of good. It is not beneficial to dwell on your unhappiness."
Henry turned a troubled face to his curate. "I like not burdening you with my obligations, sir. I know how your leg has been paining you of late."
"I am well able to take care of the parish for a few more weeks," said Mr. Taylor. "Your parishioners are not well served when the parson is so afflicted."
"I suppose you are right," sighed Henry. "I shall write to Bingley directly."
Mr. Taylor nodded in satisfaction and turned his mind to finding a way to convince General Tilney to give his blessing to his son's marriage to Miss Morland. The curate had met Henry's fiancée when she visited Woodston, and had seen the pride and affection in Henry's eyes when he looked at her, and the obvious regard that Miss Morland had for Henry. Mr. Taylor also understood the General's temperament, so unlike his younger son's. Sometimes it was hard for Mr. Taylor to believe that they were of the same blood. However, it would be a Christian act to bring the Tilney family together once again, and he was determined to help however he could. The General still had a high regard for his former chaplain, and Mr. Taylor's influence could be invaluable.
A few days later, Henry had set off once again for Hertfordshire, his guns and trunk sent ahead with a servant and his Newfoundland puppy, Bear, sprawled across his master's booted feet in inimitable Newfoundland fashion, nose lifted to the wind. Henry found that, once he was underway, the road slipping at a rapid pace beneath the trotting feet of his matched team of bays, his spirits lifted considerably. He looked forward to seeing Bingley and Darcy again, and Bingley's neighbors with whom he had become friendly, especially Lizzy Bennet. For so Henry now thought of the second Bennet daughter; she was no longer Miss Bennet, not even Elizabeth. He still addressed her properly as Miss Bennet, of course, but in his mind, she had acquired the diminutive he had heard her family use.
Long practice and natural aptitude rendered Henry an excellent whip, and he had no taste for unnecessary show; thus it was not obligatory for him to pay a great deal of attention to his driving, and the sameness of the road before him allowed his thoughts to race ahead to Hertfordshire. His acquaintance with Elizabeth had increased during the fortnight he had spent there. Nearly every night there was a gathering at one of the great houses in the neighbourhood, to which Bingley and his guests had often been invited. Henry remembered one evening in particular at Lucas Lodge. He had joined Elizabeth, who was whispering, as usual, with Charlotte Lucas. Both ladies seemed happy enough to admit a third to their tête-à-tête.
"Speak no secrets, Mr. Tilney," laughed Elizabeth. "Your friend Mr. Darcy is very impertinent. He has been listening to my conversations all this evening. What can he be about, sir?"
"I have long ago given up attempting to understand Darcy's mind," said Henry. He glanced around at his friend, who was staring at their grouping, a crease between his eyebrows.
"But if he does it any more, I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him."
"Bravo, Miss Bennet. A set down should do Darcy no harm, and may even do him some good." Although he continued to tease Darcy about Miss Bingley, Henry still feared that his friend was being unduly influenced by that lady's superior pretensions.
Darcy approached them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking. Charlotte looked at Elizabeth with a smile. "Eliza, here is your opportunity to question Mr. Darcy on his conduct this evening."
Elizabeth immediately turned to Darcy and said, "Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"
"With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic."
"You are severe on us."
"Indeed, Darcy," laughed Henry. "Even you must admit the idea that a ball is a great deal less enjoyable without the pleasant company of ladies." Darcy merely smiled.
"It will be her turn soon to be teased," said Miss Lucas. "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows."
"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend! Always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable, but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers."
"But rarely do we have the opportunity to hear an artist of such loveliness," cried Henry gallantly. "Do perform for us, Miss Bennet, and give us a treat for the eye as well as the ear."
Elizabeth, who by that time had been long enough acquainted with Henry to understand the exact worth of his nonsensical compliments, laughed heartily and said, "I should not wish to overpower your senses, Mr. Tilney. I had better stay here by the fire and allow the other ladies to take my place."
On Miss Lucas's persevering, however, she added, "Very well; if it must be so, it must." And gravely glancing at Mr. Darcy, who had remained silent during her banter with Henry, "There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with -- 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge;' and I shall keep mine to swell my song."
Despite Henry's teasing, both he and Mr. Darcy enjoyed Elizabeth's performance a great deal, as did many of the others gathered in the Lucas' drawing-room. Henry was loud in his praise, while Darcy kept his opinion to himself; Henry, misunderstanding his friend's silence, was pained to think that Darcy's tastes had grown so nice as to condemn a presentation such as Elizabeth's. Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital, although she had an easy and unaffected manner that gave her listeners more pleasure than did Miss Mary Bennet, who took her sister's place at the pianoforte. Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Lucases and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.
"I suppose we shall have no more conversation this evening," muttered Darcy. Henry raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Sir William Lucas approached the gentlemen and said. "What a charming amusement for young people this is! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies."
Darcy gave him a withering gaze. "Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance."
"Then you should be a true proficient, Darcy," said Henry under his breath.
Darcy looked at him sharply, and Sir William only smiled. "Your friend performs delightfully," he continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group with the eldest Miss Bennet; "and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy."
"You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir."
"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?"
"Never, sir."
"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?"
"It is a compliment which I never pay to any place, if I can avoid it."
"I can attest to that fact, Sir William," added Henry. "Darcy is equally misanthropic whether gracing high places or low." Both gentlemen ignored him.
"You have a house in town, I conclude?"
Mr. Darcy bowed.
"I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself, for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas."
Henry was very much amused. The Netherfield ladies had received as much intelligence about Sir William's fortune as the Longbourn and Meryton ladies had received about the Netherfield gentlemen's, and he knew that Sir William had abandoned the trade that had brought about his knighthood and likely could not afford a house in town. This little deception was understood by Darcy as well, but his tolerance for it was a great deal less than his friend's.
At that moment Elizabeth, who had been standing with Charlotte a short distance away, began to move toward them. Sir William, struck with the notion of doing a very gallant thing, called out to her, "My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.'' And taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William, "Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner."
Lizzy must still be angry about the incident at the Meryton assembly, reflected Henry. One could hardly blame her.
Darcy said with grave propriety, "I would be very happy if you would do me the honour of dancing with me, Miss Bennet."
"I thank you; but excuse me, I am not inclined to dance."
Sir William heartily rejoined Elizabeth, "Come, come, why not? You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour."
"Mr. Darcy is all politeness," said Elizabeth, smiling.
"He is indeed -- but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a partner?"
Elizabeth looked archly, politely took her leave, and turned away. Henry blushed for his friend, remembering how Darcy had indeed objected to such a partner in the fairly recent past.
Miss Bingley approached Darcy and began a whispered consultation, involving much low laughter on the lady's part. Henry watched them with some apprehension. Although Darcy's countenance showed no symptoms of regard for Miss Bingley--indeed, his eyes were fixed on Elizabeth Bennet for some unfathomable reason--in Henry's view, Darcy's prideful conduct since their arrival in Hertfordshire could only be attributed to Caroline's influence.
Finally he turned to Charlotte. "Would you care to join me in a dance, Miss Lucas?" he asked her with his most charming smile. "Your friend has stated her intention to sit out this evening, and I find myself without a partner and very much desirous of a dance."
Miss Lucas smiled back at Henry, and it occurred to him that she was very nearly pretty when she did so. "I thank you, sir, I would be delighted to be your partner."
Henry promptly held out his arm, and they joined the other dancers, who were delighted to have their numbers increased. Miss Mary continued to play jigs until, exhausted and laughing, they gave her leave to stop. The carriages began to be called shortly afterward, and the room emptied as the revelers gradually dispersed to their own homes.
"Thank you for inviting me to Lucas Lodge, Sir William," said Henry to his host, bowing low. "This evening has been most enjoyable."
"Capital, capital," said Sir William genially. "You are always welcome, Mr. Tilney."
"Yes, indeed," his daughter added. "We rarely have such congenial company, sir. Do call on us again."
Henry smiled down at Charlotte, who was fairly glowing with the exercise of the dance. "Thank you, Miss Lucas. I would be delighted to return if it were in my power to do so, but unfortunately I must return to Woodston tomorrow."
Miss Lucas' smile faltered and she looked away. "I am indeed sorry for our sakes, Mr. Tilney, but we cannot expect to keep you away from your parish permanently," she said quietly. "Please accept my wishes for a safe and pleasant journey."
"Thank you, ma'am," he said politely, bowed again, and went out to Bingley's chaise. Charlotte's eyes followed him, and if her goodbyes to the remaining guests had a distracted quality, no one remarked upon it.
There was a soft knock at the bed-chamber door. Henry, who was lying in bed reading the latest work by Mrs. Radcliffe, which he knew Catherine was also reading, looked up and called, "Come in."
The door opened and Darcy entered, his countenance grim. "I did not plan to make any comment upon your conduct this evening, Tilney," he said. "But I find myself unable to sleep. Your unkind remarks continue to play in my mind." He seated himself deliberately in a chair by the fireplace.
"My conduct?" cried Henry. "That is rich, coming from you, sir! You were deliberately rude to our host!"
"Sir William?" scoffed Darcy. "That foolish old man!"
"That foolish old man invited us to his home," Henry reminded him gently. "He deserved at least the outward signs of respect from his guests."
Darcy's dark eyes flashed. "Fine words from a man who does not even display outward signs of respect for his own friends!"
"I do, when they are deserving of them."
"That is unlike you, Tilney," said Darcy. "I know you are distressed over your engagement, but there is no need to punish your friends for your father's conduct."
"If I am punishing you, Darcy, it is for your conduct alone. I have never known you to behave thus! Has Miss Bingley's influence been so great? I am disappointed, sir. I thought you to have more resistance to a handsome woman's wiles. Or is it her twenty thousand pounds you find so attractive?"
"If I wish to pay court to a young lady, I am free to do so. However, you are an engaged man, you profess yourself broken-hearted over Miss Morland's absence, and yet you dance and flirt with Miss Elizabeth Bennet as if you were free."
Henry sighed. "For the thousandth time, Darcy, I am not paying court to Miss Bennet. I enjoy her company, certainly, as I enjoy my sister's company. There is nothing more between us. My heart belongs to Catherine, and it always will."
Darcy stood abruptly. "I see that you are in no humour to engage in a civilized discussion. I hope that your journey back to Gloucestershire is pleasant." He bowed stiffly and left Henry in a rather inelegant state of open-mouthed amazement.
He put down the book, no longer able to concentrate on mysterious rooms and cries in the night. Darcy's statements puzzled Henry greatly; he thought he had long ago taken his friend's likeness, but Darcy's behaviour since they had arrived at Netherfield was inexplicable.
The incident had provided a sad ending for Henry's sojourn at Netherfield Park; he had left for Woodston the next day with enmity still extant between him and Darcy. However, distance could not help but temper Henry's anger as well as recall to his mind the many kind actions that his friend had performed for him over the years, from rescuing Henry from a bully's intimidation to expressing genuine sympathy over Henry's delayed marriage. My own behaviour has been no better than Darcy's, he had to admit to himself. I have been unforgivably rude to my oldest friend. I must make more of an effort to comprehend his conduct. Perhaps there is an explanation. Henry smiled broadly. Perhaps Darcy is in love! He shouted to the horses and cracked the whip over their backs, the many capes of his greatcoat flying as he raced the wind back to Hertfordshire.
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