4. Chapter 3: Masters,provide what is right

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Chapter 3: Masters, provide what is right and fair

The spring weeks flew by, the busyness of estate affairs filling the hours of each day and most of Darcy's thoughts. Stretching , Darcy rose form his desk and yawned. Absently he found himself wandering toward the window. Outside around him, the estate bustled with activity. He sighed. Six and twenty, father, you left me in charge of all this at six and twenty. You always loved the spring. I wish you had been here to see it with me this year. Without realizing it, he shook his head and turned to look at his parent's portrait that hung beside the window. Their gentle faces smiled down on him, filling him with a tender warmth. I'm grateful you were with me as long as you were. Those last three years, father… He shuddered. Georgiana misses you as well. Oh, father how am I to raise a girl of fifteen? What do I know of such things?

His reverie was disturbed by the solemn entrance of a footman who presented his master with the post that had just been delivered.

"Thank you, Davis." Darcy nodded at the broad shouldered man, smiling to himself as he watched him straighten his shoulders and stand a little taller.

"Will there be anything else sir?"

"No, that will be all for now." Smartly, the footman turned and left the study. Such a change, I can hardly fathom. The young gentleman smiled to himself, eyes fixed at the door.

Just a fortnight before he had learned from Mrs. Reynolds that despite the fact he had always called said footman 'Smith', the man's name was in fact Davis. Unbeknownst to the young master of Pemberley, the estate followed the common custom of retaining the name of a long forgotten servant who held the position rather than inconveniencing the family to learn the new servant's names.

"You mean I have been calling that man Smith for well over a year now and his name is not…" Darcy exclaimed incredulously.

"Not a Smith, sir. Yes exactly so. It was the custom of your father." Mrs. Reynolds patiently explained, surprised by Fitzwilliam Darcy's disquiet. What has that vicar of his been up to now?

"My servants do not even have the dignity of their own names!" Darcy spat, disgusted. "This must change. I am yet a young man and I would venture to say I am capable of learning the proper names of the servants who I deal with regularly."

"Sir, it is not necessary to trouble yourself so. It is well understood that this is the custom in the great houses…"

"But it will no longer be the custom here," he declared firmly.

"Yes sir." Mrs. Reynolds swallowed hard, shaking her head as she thought of the confusion that would ensue. How am I going to explain this to them? How will it sound to them that the master wishes to know their names?

"I trust your management, Mrs. Reynolds. It will be well. If I must put forth some effort, then that is my choice, is it not?"

The smile on the young man's face startled her further. When did he begin to smile so?

Turning more thoughtful, Darcy asked, "Do the staff confide in you often?"

Raising her eyebrows in surprise, she replied, "It is my job to know whatever is going on in the household."

"That would include what is going on in their own homes and lives?"

"Yes sir," she responded warily. "Have you concerns regarding any of the household staff?" The grandmotherly woman's brows knotted in concern.

"No, no, not at all. Not in the way you fear at least. I have no fault to find with your impeccable management of my home."

She flushed under his unexpected praise even as she wondered where the conversation was going.

"A great many people make up the staff here."

"Yes sir."

"It would seem reasonable then to assume that from time to time emergencies would arise, needs in the staff, sickness, injury, accidents, the like." He rubbed his left palm with his right thumb. I wonder what she will say to this.

"Yes sir. But it is my responsibility to make sure none of those things ever interfere…"

"And you do it exceedingly well. I have never seen the household show the effects of any of the personal trials of my staff."

"Begging your pardon, sir, I really do not understand these questions. Is there something that has displeased you?"

"Far from it, I am quite impressed by your efficiency, Mrs. Reynolds. So much so, that I would like you to manage one more thing for me." He enjoyed watching the look of surprise that spread across her face. He removed a leather bound ledger book from his desk and handed it to the startled housekeeper. "I have invested a sum of money in an interest bearing account, the details of which are in the ledger in your hands. The purpose of this investment is to give you a yearly sum--the interest earned off the funds--to be used at your discretion to assist those among my staff who experience such tragedies as we have mentioned and lack the means themselves. I prefer you do not offer an explanation for where those funds come from, however. I am sure you will know best how to manage such a thing." Let not your left hand know what your right is doing *, or so Bradley has taught.

Shocked, the woman opened the ledger. "Sir! I cannot…"

"Yes, you can. I have complete faith in your ability to do this." He met her eyes seriously. "It is best that they not know more of this than the appearance of your benevolence, Mrs. Reynolds. I fear more would disrupt the household too much."

"I…I am honored sir. You are truly the best…"

"No, Mrs. Reynolds. Not yet. But I am learning to be." The warmth in her green eyes touched his heart.

He smiled in remembrance of the housekeeper's expressions. Uncle Matlock would be appalled! He believes every servant would cheat him and they deserve the hardships of their lives. How recently would I have agreed with him? And my Aunt! He snorted at the thought. She firmly believes their hardships are the revenge of the Almighty against them for being of low birth! Oh Mr. Bradley, how you have disrupted my neatly ordered life!

With a small laugh, he returned to the stacks on his desk. Sighing, he sorted his pile of letters. Business. Business. Invitation…that one to decline…Ah! Bingley has written at last! Leaning back in his dark leather upholstered chair, he broke the wax seal on his friend's letter.

Darcy ,

I could not have been more pleased to receive your invitation to Pemberley. You were right, it has been far too long since we have kept company.

My father's intention was to make me a gentleman but even now at three and twenty, I do not yet feel up to the task of running an estate on my own. Your offer to teach me the tasks of a gentleman could not have come at a better time! I must say I have rarely been so excited by the prospect of being a student!

Including my sister in your invitation was generosity itself. Are you certain it would not trouble your good housekeeper too much to begin preparing Caroline for the task of running my household? Since it will be some time before I am ready to consider having a proper mistress for my home, she has claimed the role in the interim. My sister is anxious to exercise her hostess skills in my home and is anxious for me to get on with the process of establishing one. In her eyes, your offer is a sign of divine providence that it is time for me to seek out an estate of my own.

I should warn you, my friend, that unlike myself, my sister is actively seeking a match. While you share much in common with her, please understand I am not trying to further a match between you two. I would be honored to call you brother, but would leave the matchmaking to the women. I would only ask that should you decided against her, let her know quickly and clearly lest I have to endure her endless scheming. Should you decide in her favor, you will forget I ever said that and never, ever speak to her of it.

Our party should arrive Tuesday of the last week in April, assuming of course that the date is still agreeable to you. Thank you again for your invitation.

CB

Darcy smiled in anticipation of the visit, only to realize with a start that somehow the letter had been delayed. The party would arrive tomorrow. Mrs. Reynolds will be furious! Why is is that things like this always seem to happen when Bingley is involved? Sometimes I shudder to think of him trying to manage an estate when he cannot even manage his own correspondence. Sighing, he rang the bell to summon his housekeeper to his study once again. At least she will know what to do with this request.

Darcy made it a point to stay near the manor house the next day. Knowing Bingley's propensity to be late, he knew the party would not likely arrive before midday, but he did not want to take the chance of appearing inattentive to his friend.

I wonder if father would have approved of Bingley? Darcy chewed his lip thoughtfully and he folded and sealed the letter he held in his hand. He certainly is not of our circle. I think father tried to be of a liberal mind toward those with roots in trade. But it was difficult for him. I think he was uneasy with those purchasing their family's first estate, not knowing to which circle they belonged. What a strange concept, that a piece of land should be the making of a man.

The knock of a footman disturbed his reverie. Davis informed him of the party's impending arrival. Darcy rose and strode briskly to the door. From there, he could see the carriages coming up the drive. A pang of nervousness struck. He had never met Miss Bingley and she was a woman with a purpose, the kind he had often said he could do without. But then again, Bingley said we had much in common. Perhaps this will become something worthwhile. Mrs. Reyonlds is a wonder, but Pemberley has never been as much of a home as it was when it had a proper mistress. I still miss her. Oh mother. Georgiana is still far too young although I know she would try if she thought for a moment I would allow her. I suppose she is like her brother in that respect. Straightening his jacket, he made his way down the stairs to greet the arriving party.

Moments later, the first carriage was pulling to a stop. Footmen opened the door and Charles Bingley bounded out to greet his friend.

"I say Darcy, Pemberley does indeed live up to your description. I'd thought you rather fanciful when you told me of it, but indeed you were not! This is the most remarkable place!" The younger man grinned enthusiastically.

"Welcome, my friend. It is good to have you here, although I must admit you have had my staff scrambling for your letter did not arrive until yesterday."

"Yesterday? How could that be? I had no delays in sending it." Charles' brow knit together in perplexed thought.

"You may want to give some attention to your handwriting, you wrote the direction very ill indeed and I believe it was misdirected for quite some time." Darcy laughed teasingly.

"Yes, well, we are here now, that is if you do not choose to turn us out." Bingley turned his attention toward the carriage and reached up to hand out a young woman who was waiting none too patiently. Gracefully she emerged from the shadowed interior.

The first thing Darcy noticed about her was her gown. He knew it to be the latest fashion and very expensive. However, it failed to suit her. The elaborately made garment seemed to wear the young woman rather than her wearing it. I have seen far too many women dress like that for me to fail to recognize what it means.

"Darcy, this is my sister, Miss Caroline Bingley."

Darcy took her offered hand and bowed over it graciously. "Welcome to Pemberley. It is a pleasure to have you here." I only hope I am not lying.

"You are too gracious, Mr. Darcy." She replied, looking up at him, batting her eyelashes and smiling too broadly.

The second thing Darcy noticed about Caroline Bingley was her voice. Outwardly it was pleasant enough, but there was a note behind it that made him uneasy. She sounds too much like an actress offering lines that have been rehearsed. She lacks sincerity. She says the right things and yet I cannot be sure what she means by them.

"My brother has told me a great deal about you, Mr. Darcy." Caroline gushed, stepping closer to Darcy. "He has often remarked that we are much alike, you and I. I have so looked forward to spending time in the company of someone my dear brother considers like minded to me." She smiled cloyingly.

The third thing Fitzwilliam noticed about Caroline Bingley was that she smiled far too much.

Stepping back, Darcy gestured back toward the house. "Come, let me take you inside. My staff will show you to your rooms. You may refresh yourselves, and then we can gather for tea."

"You are too kind, Darcy, too kind. I can't think of anything I'd enjoy more than getting out of these dusty things and…" Charles moved to bound up the stairs, but Caroline put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Yes, Charles, we know of your excitement. However, would you not lend me your arm for these stairs before you dash off in a fury?" The disapproval in her voice was clear to all who heard.

Darcy blushed for his friend, uneasy with the set down his sister had just offered, but Bingley seemed not to notice.

The two men exchanged glances and Bingley shrugged at his friend's discomfort. It is clear you are the eldest child Darcy. The youngest must often put up with such abuses from the elder. She is harmless. Don't let her disquiet you, my friend. Carefully they made their way up the staircase and into the grand foyer of the manor house.

"Your home does you great credit, Mr. Darcy. I have always said you can tell a great deal about a man by the home he keeps." She glanced meaningfully at her brother.

"Yes, she says that rather often." Her brother laughed ruefully. "Especially when instructing me on the intricacies of good taste." Caroline winced visibly, but Charles seemed unperturbed.

Darcy glanced from one sibling to the other, his sense of ill ease growing. I have never seen this side of Bingley before .Does he not realize the coarseness of his manners? It is so unseemly for them to be airing their family issues for even the servants to hear. Is this the man he truly is outside of my company? Or is he so easily affected by her presence? I am not so certain I approve of her influence over her brother. What would a home managed by her be like? "I regret to tell you, I have invited guests to dinner tonight. Not realizing you would be here, I invited several of our neighbors to join us in a dinner honoring our new vicar."

"Your vicar?" Caroline seemed surprised. "What an odd occasion to celebrate."

Bingley glanced down at her disapprovingly.

"Yes, our vicar. He has been curate here for as long as I can remember. The living has just become vacant and he has honored me by consenting to take it," Darcy explained, a tense note edging his voice.

Bingley noticed his friend's growing frustration and tried to cast a warning glance at his sister. You will win no favor from him this way Caroline. He may be just a vicar to you, but Darcy will hear no ill against the man. Hold your tongue!

"How magnanimous of you, Mr. Darcy, giving a curate such notice. He must be very grateful of your attentions to him." The tone of Caroline's praise made Darcy wonder whether if it indeed was praise at all.

"In truth, Miss Bingley, I find myself quite grateful of his attentions to me." Darcy stood up a little straighter to look down his nose at her, an expression he had used often to end unwanted conversations.

Just then an agitated looking footman arrived.

"Yes, Stevens, what is it?" Darcy demanded tersely.

"Sir, a gentleman has just arrived for you. Mr. Wickham is asking to see you, sir." Anxiety creased the face of the older footman.

Darcy gritted his teeth to contain the epithet threatening to explode. "I will be there momentarily Stevens. You may show him into my study." He exhaled forcefully before turning back to his guests. "I am afraid there is business I must attend to right now. It may preclude me from joining you for tea. If you would like, I can have tea sent to your rooms. My housekeeper can then give you a tour of the house until I am free to join you myself."

"That would be most kind of you, Mr. Darcy. I am anxious to see the wonders of your lovely home," Miss Bingley gushed, effectively cutting off her brother's response. A home that is clearly in need of a mistress. One that you perhaps are willing to find even now? She smiled broadly, leaning toward him far more closely than he would have liked.

"Then I will leave my staff to attend you and I will join you as soon as I am free." Darcy turned away from his guests, motioning his staff to show them to their rooms. As he walked away, Darcy wondered how her brother could see anything in common between Miss Bingley and himself. Disconcerting as that thought was, he pushed it aside, realizing he had much bigger issues to deal with waiting for him in his study.

*Matt 6:3