Master of Netherfield Page 3

  “No gentleman would give a farm rat like you a penny let alone a shilling! You stole it from someone!” Charlie growled. “Hand it over or I’ll call the magistrate and he’ll lock you in the livery stable for a month!”

  Seeing Charlie raise his hand to strike the smaller boy, Elizabeth did not hesitate but jumped in, knocking Charlie into the barrels and then remained standing between the smaller boy and his tormentor.

  “What gives?” Charlie Lucas demanded as he struggled to return to his feet. When he saw the angry older girl, he said, “This don’t concern you Eliza Bennet!”

  “What is going on out here?” asked a young woman’s voice, behind them all. When she turned her head, Elizabeth was pleased to find Charlotte Lucas, Charlie’s older sister, come out of the back of the shop with the commotion reaching the inside of the store. “Charlie! What are you doing?”

  “It is nothing!” he declared but the crying child and angry girl did not satisfy Charlotte who summoned her father.

  Mr. Lucas, an amiable man and successful tradesman, was a good father and he quickly assessed the situation with a couple questions to the child and Elizabeth. Then he turned to his daughter and said, “Charlotte, see the Miss Elizabeth and the boy are escorted within our establishment and that the boy makes his purchase in peace. Give him a stick of candy for his troubles.”

  Now, Mr. Lucas turned to his son and said, “We have talked about this bullying behaviour, Charles. I have reached the end of my patience with you.”

  “Pa, the farm rat must have stolen that shilling from a gentleman!”

  “If so, why should you have it then?” Mr. Lucas demanded before taking his son by the ear and marching him to the stable behind the shop.

  “Is he to get a lashin’?” asked Davie from beside Elizabeth.

  Charlotte held out her hand to the boy. “Do not worry about Charlie. My father will correct his behaviour with the strap.”

  Elizabeth grimaced and told the older girl, “There are days I wish I had a brother but then I have to deal with someone else’s brother and I think I like my sisters better.”

  Charlotte smiled and led the two youngsters into the Lucas Emporium through the back door while in the stable they heard the sounds of Mr. Lucas correcting Charlie’s attempt to steal from the poor child.

  “I hopes he can’t sit for a week!” Davie whispered to Elizabeth. “Me pa wallops me good when I don’t listen to me ma and him. I know what a good lashing is and I don’t want no more of ‘em.”

  “Master Hall, how can I help you today?” asked Charlotte from beside the counter.

  “Th’ new master of Ned’rfields gives me a shilling and I want to buy me ma a new ribbon for her hair. Pa tells her she’s th’ prettiest girl in th’ county and I wants her to know I do too.”

  “And you have a whole shilling?” asked Charlotte while her mother came over.

  “Yes miss, him whats give me th’ shilling just fer talkin’ with him like. Pa tells th’ man is th’ new master of the place and he’s a great, tall man, rides a giant horse, followed by wagons and carriages and horses and footmen. He looked ever so rich and dressed like th’ swells at Chris’mas.”

  “That is the longest speech I have ever heard you make Davie,” Elizabeth told him.

  “What colour does your mother prefer, Davie?” asked Charlotte as Mrs. Lucas walked away to speak with Mrs. Bennet who had just walked into the shop. The animated discussion between the two women kept their attention from Charlotte as she dealt with the young man.

  “Ma likes blue Miss,” Davie replied.

  “And you have two sisters at home do you not Davie?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Yes, but I only gots th’ one shilling,” Davie said. “And I want to give me Ma th’ ribbon.”

  “A shilling will buy many ribbons and candy,” Elizabeth said. “Miss Lucas, would you recommend some ribbons for Master Hall?”

  “Of course, Miss Eliza,” Charlotte replied. “Master Hall, if you will pick out two other colours, you will have ribbons for your mother and your sisters.”

  “Thank you miss! It’ll be Chris’mas at our house tonight.”

  While Davie picked out two pink ribbons for his sisters, Elizabeth selected five large candy sticks for the Hall children. Then Charlotte carefully wrapped the three ribbons in one sheet of paper and the candies in a second paper before she made a formal presentation of the parcels to Davie.

  “And Mr. Hall, you still have three pennies that you use to buy more candy in one month’s time,” Charlotte said handing over the three coins.

  “How can this be Miss Lucas?” asked the confused boy. “You give me back three coins.”

  Elizabeth leaned over and explained, “The shilling is worth many pennies Davie. You were able to buy ribbons and candy and still have three pennies left.”

  He stuffed the pennies into his pocket, took the two paper parcels and called, “Thank ye Miss Lucas! Thank ye Miss Bennet!”

  Elizabeth and Charlotte watched the boy as he ran out of the shop and started the three mile walk to his family’s farm. Another farmer, a man known to Elizabeth as one of her father’s tenants, stopped and offered the boy a ride home. The boy and the farmer waved to Elizabeth as they rode out of Meryton.

  Coming in from the back of the shop with his son in tow, Mr. Lucas joined them about that time. “Charlie, come apologize to Miss Elizabeth for your behaviour.”

  The boy’s tear stained face would have stirred pity but Charlie Lucas had been a bully for so long, Elizabeth feared for his future.

  “I am sorry Miss Elizabeth,” Charlie whispered, keeping his head bowed.

  “Thank you, Charlie,” Elizabeth replied. “I hope you will not hurt children smaller than yourself again like that.”

  “No miss.”

  Mr. Lucas said, “Now go clean the stable as I told you to do an hour ago. If I come and the stable is not clean, you will not be able to sit for a week.”

  “Yes Father,” the boy said as he turned and slowly walked out of the store.

  “Miss Elizabeth, I hope you will forgive the Lucas family for this scene,” Mr. Lucas said.

  The young woman only smiled. “Mr. Lucas, you have always been kind to me. Remember when I knocked over the basket of apples in front of your store and horses ate half of them before I could get them back into the basket, last year? You were most understanding of my clumsiness.”

  “Everyone has difficulty growing up,” Charlotte reminded her father and friend. “I just hope my brother will grow out of the bullying.”

  “I must see to an apprenticeship in town for Charlie soon,” Mr. Lucas said. “He has no interest in running the shop or in farming. Something in trade in town will be to his liking.”

  “Lizzy!” called Mrs. Bennet. “Lizzy, come look at this muslin!”

  As Mrs. Bennet and her second daughter looked at the blue and yellow muslin, Jane and Mary arrived at the Lucas Emporium.

  **++**

  “Mr. Bennet! Mr. Bennet!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet as she rushed into her husband’s study. “Netherfield Park has been let at last. I just heard the news from Mrs. Lucas at her husband’s shop in Meryton. As the mayor, he knows all the goings-on in each of the great houses of Hertfordshire!”

  “Is Netherfield Park a great house, my dear?” Mr. Bennet asked indulgently. “The estate barely makes three thousand a year, where we manage to squeeze out two thousand a year at Longbourn.”

  “My dear, do not speak of income and monies with me,” his wife complained. “Numbers give me a headache and affect my nerves.”

  Mr. Bennet rose from his desk and directed his wife to a nearby chair and then poured her a small glass of sherry. “Now here my dear, sip this and tell me all that Mrs. Lucas shared with you.”

  Taking a small sip and noting the glimmer in her husband’s eye that had first attracted Francis Gardiner to Thomas Bennet over seventeen years before, Mrs. Bennet smiled prettily and repeated her tale.

  “Mrs. L
ucas had it from Mr. Taylor that a rich gentleman from the north has leased Netherfield. He intends to improve the estate while moving back and forth between Hertfordshire and London,” Mrs. Bennet told her husband. “It will mean more carriages on the roads and more visitors! There will be more parties and elegant suppers!”

  Mr. Bennet smiled indulgently and nodded his head before taking the empty glass and setting it on the table and then grasping hold of both of his wife’s hands. “And would you care to have the whole story so that tomorrow you can correct Mrs. Lucas’s gossip?”

  “What do you mean, Mr. Bennet?” asked his wife as he drew her to her feet.

  “Our brother Phillips – husband of your unfortunate sister – is the solicitor for the sale of Netherfield to a rich gentleman from the north. The estate has been sold and I understand that a young man will take possession of the estate.”

  “Does he have a wife?”

  “I do not know his marriage state but I did understand that he has only just this spring completed his studies at University so I imagine that he is unattached.”

  “Single and in possession of a good estate... Did you hear if he is handsome?”

  The gentleman grinned and said, “When I call on him and invite him to dinner, you will have to determine that for yourself.”

  Throwing her arms around her husband’s neck, Mrs. Bennet kissed his cheek. “You are a good husband Thomas Bennet! Thank you!”

  “Now Fannie, listen to me well. When the gentleman comes to visit, you will not throw Jane at him. She is only coming out this fall and she is entirely too young to be courted! You will have to entertain the young man and keep him close for at least the next two years before you betroth our eldest daughter to him.”

  Pretending to be affronted while caressing the hand of her playful husband, Mrs. Bennet agreed, “Oh, very well. But if he takes a notion to court our Jane, I shall not stop it!”

  “That is the father’s business, my dear,” Mr. Bennet assured his wife. “Now tell me the other news from Meryton.”

  “Well it seems that...”

  **++**

  “Papa! Papa!” called a loud, young girl’s voice as someone ran through the house.

  “Elizabeth Bennet! Do not run in the house! You knock over the furniture or your sisters like a pony!” scolded Mrs. Bennet of her second daughter. “You must walk like Jane who could pass through a cloud without disturbing the wisps around her.”

  “Why would I want to walk through a cloud, Mamma?” asked the fourteen-year-old girl. “Jane can run just as fast as me when she wants to.”

  “Lizzy!” called Mr. Bennet. “Come into my library.”

  “Yes Papa,” replied the dark-haired girl who stumbled on a carpet while her mother fussed over her three younger children.

  Entering the library, Elizabeth found her sister Jane already seated and reading a book that Elizabeth recognized – Shakespeare’s comedies. She grimaced when she saw the one her father had selected for her that day – Voltaire in French.

  “Now, Lizzy, I see that look – working on your French will not curl or straighten your hair. If it did, every woman in the kingdom would learn to speak fluent French so that when Mr. Bonaparte and his armies arrive, they will think they are still in France and the English yeomen can defeat them at Hastings.”

  “But Papa, the Normans beat the English at Hastings,” Elizabeth argued.

  “Now Lizzy, we are the descendants of those Normans,” Mr. Bennet lectured. Recognizing that she could delay the French by discussing history, Elizabeth argued with her father about the Norman Conquest, and the wars between England and France that had lasted for centuries.

  “Now we shall turn to the Voltaire,” Mr. Bennet said as Jane smiled and left the library to begin sewing with Mary and Mamma in the parlour.

  Elizabeth admitted she preferred Voltaire – even in French – to sewing so she applied herself to the text, translating passages after reading them in French.

  “Your accent is still too bookish Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet said. “I wish there were a French tutors available but until the wars are settled, our young people will never have the correct accent.”

  “Could we not speak French at the dinner table, Papa?” Elizabeth asked. “I read in a novel where the family spoke French within the household so the servants could not understand their gossip.”

  Mr. Bennet laughed. “I shall suggest it to your Mother. If she thought speaking in a foreign language would keep the maids from knowing her secrets, Mrs. Bennet would conjugate Latin verbs with determination.”

  **++**

  Chapter 4

  A Call on the New Master of Netherfield

  When two days had passed, Mr. Bennet rode from Longbourn to Netherfield in the afternoon to introduce himself to the new owner, and to invite the man to supper. Even though the knocker was off the door, Mr. Bennet banged on the heavy wooden door and was pleased when Mrs. Hobbes, the housekeeper opened the door and invited him inside. He knew few members of the local gentry had a butler or footmen to open the door when visitors called.

  “Mr. Bennet! Welcome!” Mrs. Hobbes greeted the familiar face.

  “Good afternoon Mrs. Hobbes, I hope everything is well here at Netherfield.”

  “We are all busy sir with the new master come to take charge.”

  “Excellent! I should like to meet the man,” Mr. Bennet said as he walked into the foyer.

  “He is just come back from riding to some of the farms and meeting more of the tenants,” the housekeeper explained. “If you would wait in the parlour, I shall…”

  At just that moment, a tall, young man walked into the foyer with several papers in his hands. “Mrs. Hobbes, can you tell me where I might find the steward this afternoon?”

  Looking up, the young man saw the expectant face of a gentleman in early middle-age observing his every move; he frowned and sighed at finding a local gentleman in the foyer. The knocker was off the door and William had hoped to avoid introductions to the locals for several more days.

  “We do not hold much with door knockers in the country,” the visitor explained as he stepped forward. “There are too many times when the demands of the crops or livestock do not allow our neighbours to hide in their fine rooms. A sounder of hogs loose in the fields must be dealt with immediately. I have found that it is difficult for ladies of fashion to chase pigs from among the rows of potatoes.”

  William’s face relaxed at his visitor’s description of ladies of the ton in their finery pursuing pigs and he answered in kind, “Ah sir, you forget that the ladies are armed with parasols and they can drive the pigs from the field easily by flashing and twirling the instruments among the invaders for it is well know that pigs fear parasols.”

  His face broken by a large grin, the visitor extended his hand and introduced himself, “I am your nearest neighbour, Thomas Bennet of Longbourn.”

  “Yes, my steward has named the next estate as yours,” the young man said, taking the visitor’s hand.

  “And your name sir?” Bennet asked.

  The young man blinked in surprise – everyone knew who he was and his family’s position but remembering the newness of Hertfordshire, he bowed and said, “Forgive me, Mr. Bennet. I am unused to not being known. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire and now of Netherfield in Hertfordshire. Welcome to my home.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, I am certain that your cook, Mr. Nicholls, is pleased to have you in residence. His roasts and cakes are legendary in Meryton among all of the local families, and Mrs. Hobbes is renowned for her exquisite preparations for all entertainments and fox hunt luncheons.”

  Mrs. Hobbes beamed as the gentleman complimented the table she had set for previous leaseholders.

  “And Mr. Bennet is known for his wit and easy temper, Mr. Darcy,” the housekeeper assured her employer. “The steward is in the library sir where I have stocked your port for visitors.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hobbes,” William said as he ge
stured for Mr. Bennet to walk with him to the library.

  “The house is sound,” Mr. Bennet told the new owner. “I know nothing of the décor or furnishings. If you have questions that Mrs. Hobbes cannot answer, I am certain that my wife can tell you the providence of the furnishings and the merchants in London who supplied the draperies.”

  “Mrs. Bennet has an eye for décor?” asked William hopefully. “I find it a great muddle to consider colours and fabrics. But I do not wish any of my aunts to attend me.”

  “I would caution against asking my wife for her advice before a cold winter’s day sir unless you have no desire to be outside that day. She will keep your attention to colours, fabrics, chairs, windows and plate for many hours.”

  William nodded and asked, “What occupies you, Mr. Bennet?”

  “I fill my days with good books, my daughters and my wife, followed by my port and working with my tenants.”

  They came to the library and Mr. Bennet was pleased to see the young man willing to open the doorways himself and not expect a footman to follow him around the house. Inside he found the Netherfield steward, Mr. Howard, working with quills and ink but the man rose when William and his guest stepped into the room.

  “Mr. Bennet! How good to see you!” the steward said in greeting as he bowed. “Mr. Darcy, you will find Mr. Bennet to be a knowledgeable neighbour in all matters agricultural, historical and political.”

  “Howard, do not build me up so high. It will make my fall harder.” Mr. Bennet turned to his host and said, “I have great respect for your steward, Mr. Darcy. He convinced me to increase the acreage in German turnips to use as cattle feed in the winter and to plant this new potato from Ireland. It has a much firmer flesh and we were pleased at how well it held over the winter. All the tenants on both estates are planting them in their gardens this year to provide extra food for their families this winter.”

  “Does it take time from their labours to have gardens at each tenant farm?”

  The two gentlemen settled into a lengthy discussion of local farming practices and the differences in the growing season between Hertfordshire and Derbyshire with the steward providing comments when appropriate. When the time for the call to end approached, they continued without regard for another half hour.