Page 11 of New World Tea Company
‘I shall have to pay them to allow me to stay with them,’she knew. Finally, she realised that no one of worth would be in London as October began. Only after the new year would anyone return.
“Charles, the farmers here are not worthy of your company,” she announced. “I shall not call on any of them, nor will I issue any invitations to tea for the wives of these ploughmen.”
Glancing at Louisa, Charles sighed and said, “Then I shall ask Louisa to act as my hostess here at Netherfield. I shall not impose the company of these people upon you.”
Setting her teacup on the table roughly and spilling some of the contents in her saucer, Caroline replied, “Yes. Let our sister can deal with Mrs Hurdle and these rough servants while you pretend to be a farmer.”
Louisa Hurst smiled at her brother and said, “Charles, I shall be glad to act as your hostess. May I plan a small tea for the ladies I met last night?”
“Certainly, sister,” Charles said. “And I would ask you to speak to Mrs Hobbes about preparing the rooms nearest my own for Mr Darcy. I expect him to arrive at Netherfield tomorrow. His business in town is complete, and he will stay with us until Christmas.”
“What?” shouted Caroline. “Mr Darcy is coming after all! Why did you not tell me?”
With a look of confusion, Charles replied, “Sister, I did tell you…several times.”
~~~
Chapter 5.Mr Darcy Arrives in Meryton
As Fitzwilliam Darcy prepared to leave his home in Mayfair for the short trip to Meryton, the gentleman glanced over the gifts his housekeeper made available for his infrequent visits into homes of acquaintances. Invitations to a weekend at a country estate required the gift of some luxury item–chocolates, wine, or brandy. Today, he would begin an extended stay in the country with Charles Bingley at his leased estate, Netherfield, and the guest should arrive with a gift.
Darcy understood from his last letter from Charles that his friend would attend an assembly early in the week as an introduction to the families in the neighbourhood. With Louisa and Geoffrey Hurst present and his second sister, Caroline, to act as his hostess, Bingley would invite families to dine or take tea. All such invitations must be issued by his hostess, Miss Bingley.
After rejecting the usual assortment of gifts the housekeeper made available, Darcy decided,‘I must not arrive with chocolates or wine; otherwise, Miss Bingley will declare us engaged at supper. I need something mundane that will bore her and drive notions of matrimony from her head. But what?’
Then Fitzwilliam had a notion.
‘Miss Bingley obsesses about proper appearances,’he remembered. ‘I shall visit a mercantile in the village…she will be offended with a local gift and voice her opinion of me loudly for everyone to hear.’
~~~
It took three hours on the rough roads to travel from London to the village of Meryton, and when his carriage-and-four passed the local shops, Darcy tapped on the compartment roof, his usual signal for the driver to stop. Not waiting for assistance, the gentleman opened the carriage door and found himself in front of the typical row of shops in a village–a cobbler, tailor, seamstress, and mercantile. The recent rains meant the typical muck was present, and Darcy made one step in the mud before his boots were on the wooden walkway in front of the shops.
He was surprised to find a selection of book titles in such a small village. And even more pleasing, Fitzwilliam could wander about the shop for a moment without being approached by the proprietor–the man dealt with a woman with an order for several lengths of cloth. This allowed the latest customer to glance over the shelves of teapots, porcelain plates and bowls, and tools without interruption. There were glass front cases with sewing needles, thimbles of thread in every colour in the rainbow, buttons for a man’s shirts, pants, and coats, and ten times as many for a lady’s garments.
Retracing his steps back toward the front of the store, Fitzwilliam Darcy found a young woman looking over the titles of the books on the shelf. At first, he thought she was very young because she stood with her hands clasped behind her back as though afraid to touch anything.
“The Gibbon is extensively detailed,” he said, referring to the multiple volumes of the series titled The Collapse and Fall of the Roman Empire. “But it will take a year to make your way through them all.”
She turned her head toward the man, and their eyes met–her dark brown eyes sparkling with life met his blue eyes filled with strength and power. After a moment, the young woman said,“Indeed, it took me a full year to make my way through them, but my father said my many questions slowed my progress.”
“Have you read the Gibbon? All of it?” asked Darcy incredulously.
Her eyebrows rising at the man’s tone of voice, the young woman replied, “I have indeed. Do you think a woman cannot read, understand, and discuss the man’s ideas for the reasons behind the decline of the Roman Empire?”
“Forgive me. I was surprised that a girl as young as yourself had read such a work,” the man said but stopped when he realised that she had the figure of a grown woman. “I understand now; the way you stood in the sunlight made me think you were but a girl.”
Displeased to be mistaken for a child, the young woman explained, “My father and mother require me to clasp my hands behind my back while wandering through the mercantile. As a child, I tended to touch things, and they meant for me not to break items. Holding my hands in this manner is a habit that I continue, especially when viewing books on the merchant’s shelf.”
Before Darcy could reply, an imperious voice demanded, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet! Why are you speaking with this stranger? Your mother and father will be displeased when they learn of this.”
Glancing toward the voice, Elizabeth said, “Lady Lucas…”
But the gentleman interrupted her. “Madam, I am a stranger to Meryton, and the young lady was educating me on the topics Mr Gibbon presented in his voluminous work on the decline and fall of the Roman Empire.”
“Sir, unknown gentlemen, do not impose themselves on proper young ladies!” the matron declared.
Being true to her nature, Elizabeth asked, “But Lady Lucas, did not Charlotte and Maria speak to Mr George Wickham on the street last week without an introduction?”
