Chapter Text
Charles Bingley was in the midst of comforting Miss Helwys, when his twin sister flung open the curtains to rouse him out of his afternoon nap.
Nooooo, he groaned in protest at this interruption of a most promising dream.
Get up. A neighbor is calling. The infamous Mr. Bennett that we were warned about, Caroline adds.
Let Darcy handle him, Bingley mutters as he drags a pillow over his eyes, and wills himself to drift back toward that pleasant reverie - only to have the pillow torn away by his sister.
***
The first thing Darcy noticed about Mr. Bennett was that the gentleman was also a fastidious dresser.
The second was that the man did not attempt to cover up his balding pate or in any way mask his rapidly receding hairline.
The third was the richly modulated voice of the visitor upon the introductions.
Once seated, the man proceeded to decline Mrs. Hurst's offer of tea - without giving offense, and without an explanation.
This was a man in total command of himself and completely at ease in his surroundings, Darcy mused, only to have the man's shrewd eyes settle upon him.
I’m sure my friend Bingley will be down shortly, Darcy found himself saying, and then wondered why he felt compelled to state the obvious.
He needn’t stoop to such tactics to put me in my place, Mr. Bennett notes with wry amusement as he picks a long stray red hair off the couch and studies it.
I am only too aware of how I must appear - a desperate country gentleman - unable to provide adequately for the security of his family - a failure who needs be rescued by one of his daughters, who lack dowries and must therefore endeavor to secure any eligible man by compromise.
Do I have it about right? Mr. Bennett asks, suddenly looking up at Mr. Hurst, and catching him completely off guard.
I, I think - aren't you being rather hard on yourself, sir? Mr. Hurst ventures.
It's a hard world, Mr. Hurst.
As a respectable gentleman of means, Mr. Darcy, you must find the prospect of an alliance with such a family, no matter how desirable the lady, to be inexcusable - if not utterly reprehensible?
Everyone stares at the man in complete disbelief for the sentiments that he had just espoused.
So I understand the reticence of your friend in coming down promptly, Mr. Bennett concludes.
Sir, you are mistaken, and I trust that you will come to find that this household is not a respecter of persons, Louisa declares.
That in itself would make your party remarkable among our assemblage of four and twenty families, Mr. Bennett observes in response.
Your estate, Longbourne, is three miles hence? Darcy inquires, eager to change the subject.
Closer to five, when taking the road through Meryton, as one ought until he becomes better acquainted with the neighborhood and its peculiarities, sir.
Why the strange emphasis on the word peculiarites? Darcy wonders.
Well, I've done my duty by my family, and must now report back to them, as they are no doubt eagerly awaiting my return.
Please wait a while longer, sir. Mr. Hurst pleads.
Louisa, would you go see what is taking your sister and your brother? Her husband requests.
Of course, dear. She answers and gets up and hurries out of the room.
Rest assured, we shall promptly return your call, Mr. Bennett. Mr. Hurst promises.
I must warn you that my estate is quite shabby and in some disrepair, while Longbourne itself is rather lived in.
So you do not wish us to call? Darcy inquires.
I wish only to temper your expectations, should you decide to do so, sir.
My daughters would like nothing more than to encounter a man of your reputed wealth and consequence, Mr. Darcy - just to say that they had once met such a one.
I would be curious to hear what is the report circulating of my reputed wealth and consequence, Darcy allows grimly.
An income of ten thousand a year, the grandest estate in Derbyshire, and to top it off, the godson and nephew of the Earl Fitzwilliam.
Darcy glowers at hearing the accuracy of these factoids, and resolves to caution his valet once again not to boast about him to the other servants.