P&P The Untold stories: Darcy and Bingley dine at Longbourn

Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley dine at Longbourn

Mr. Hill had been with the Bennet family since young Miss Jane Bennet was learning to walk. He had been witness to their losses and triumphs, their arguments and grudges. In a household the size of Longbourn, the butler often acted as footman in the dining room, and this allowed Mr. Hill to see the family at meals, which he found to be a rather sporting occasion.

He had visited his cousin in London once and the man had taken him to a fisticuffs match. Two men would prance around each other, trying to get a swing in, with a large group of men circling them and cheering them on, hoping to see a little bloodshed and eventually, one triumph over the other.

Hill was often reminded of that scene when he waited on the Bennet family at dinner. Miss Lydia was the rowdiest of fighters—ahem, diners, and her most worthy opponent was her sister Miss Elizabeth, though Miss Kitty was a scrappy little thing. She might learn to actually be strong if her mother would not constantly halt her efforts.

Alas, Miss Lydia was now gone to the north—something the old retainer felt more than a little conflicted about. On the one hand, the house was infinitely quieter and more peaceful without her in it. On the other, she was a reckless young lady who had not been taught as she ought, and any fool could see she was headed for a life of difficulty and unhappiness.

The servants talked amongst themselves, of course, and Hill knew he was not alone in his sentiments. The women tended to blame Mrs. Bennet more, likely because they spent more time with her and she was more relatable to them, but personally, Hill blamed Mr. Bennet.

The master knew what he ought to do and he simply could not be bothered to do it. It would have been so easy! A letter to the papers requesting an advertisement be placed for a governess; a companion hired for his wife; simply telling her the girls were not to come out until they were seventeen at least. Any one of these things would have drastically changed the course of the Bennet girls’ lives, but the indolent man could simply not put down his book and write a letter. Fifteen minutes of his time was apparently too much to safeguard his family’s respectability.

Hill took a deep breath. He should not get in a lather over such things. Just as Mr. Bennet was the only man in a position to check his wife and safeguard his family, so was Hill the only one in a position to maintain some semblance of order at this disaster of a dinner.

Poor Miss Bennet had looked green all day at the prospect of Mr. Bingley coming to dine, and now the moment was upon them. Hill watched from the corner as the family filed into the drawing room. Miss Bennet moved to her chair and soon enough the Bingley pup followed her. He sent a look to his friend that Hill could not help but be intrigued by.

Looking to the taller gentleman, the great Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire, he saw him look at Miss Elizabeth with a longing only another quiet man would recognize, but as she was smiling at her sister at the moment, the young lady did not see it. Mrs. Bennet seemed to remember a modicum of decorum—finally—and invited Mr. Darcy to sit next to her. Hill was certain it was the one moment everyone would have wished she forget the order of things and allow the man to sit where he liked.

The dinner was both painful and amusing. Miss Jane Bennet seemed happy and well on her way to being engaged—Mr. Bingley could hardly tear his eyes from her long enough to eat his food! Poor Mr. Darcy was tortured by Mrs. Bennet, who was at such a loss for words that she simply said them all, much to Mr. Darcy’s chagrin. That gentleman was holding on by a thread, Hill would bet his eyeteeth on it. He kept glancing at Miss Elizabeth, who was caught up in conversation with her neighbors, but it was unlikely he would speak to her.

What had Mrs. Bennet been thinking, organizing such a large party? A smaller gathering with perhaps Sir William and Lady Lucas would have been much preferred. But that lady never held a small party where a large one would do.

The interminable dinner finally ended and the party withdrew to the drawing room. Miss Elizabeth was once again glancing at Mr. Darcy, and that man was so uncomfortable Hill was tempted to bring him a glass of brandy. It would be entirely inappropriate of course, but the thought crossed his mind.

Darcy began to move towards Miss Elizabeth more than once, lifting his foot and leaning in her direction, and then Miss Elizabeth would be surrounded by the ladies of the party—entirely too many ladies for such a dinner—and he would retreat again. Miss Elizabeth continued to look at him until her glances became so frequent Hill wondered that the girls next to her did not notice.

Finally, when he could take the suspense no more, Darcy walked to the table to return his coffee cup. Miss Elizabeth chatted with him and for a moment, and Hill thought the evening might be salvaged. Miss Elizabeth was an excellent conversationalist and a man like Mr. Darcy would not intimidate her—one of the many reasons Hill thought they would do well together.

Alas, she seemed capable of only a few sentences and the pair fell quiet. Mr. Darcy bravely stood by for another few minutes, but Miss Elizabeth was awkwardly looking about—odd for her—or distracted by the other ladies. Soon enough Mr. Darcy walked away. Hill could hardly blame him. He had never seen Miss Elizabeth eaten up with nerves, but it was clear she was suffering.

Hill sighed. The party would be coming to a close soon. He slipped out of the room to put in a word with the groom that Mr. Darcy’s carriage was to be called first. Best to let the poor man escape as soon as possible. He could try again with Miss Elizabeth another day when there weren’t so many people about.