Part of the problem was apparent as soon as Jane was introduced to Mrs. Crenshaw. She was expecting, possibly six months along, and with half the day still ahead of her, she was already exhausted, and the children were prepared to take advantage of their mother’s fatigue. Unfortunately, for the youngsters, the servants had planned their own welcome. Instead of being free to run amok, they were marched out the back door by the three sons of Mrs. Smart, Netherfield’s cook, and into the park where Mr. Bingley’s grooms were waiting for them.
But they could be contained only for so long, and during dinner in the breakfast room and away from the china, the four oldest Crenshaws came in and immediately began eating off their mother’s plate and out of the fruit bowls in a foraging expedition. When they came to Jane’s plate, she placed a napkin over it and informed them that what they were doing was not foraging but plundering, the latter being an act of war, and she had no intention of yielding. After an attempt by their leader, Gaius, to stare Jane down had failed, the little savages returned to the park.
By the time Jane had arrived back at Longbourn, she already had a plan in mind. The crusade for the reformation of the Crenshaws began when their Uncle Charles herded Gaius, Lucius, Athena, and Darius into his carriage, leaving only toddler Minerva and baby Julian behind, for a trip to Longbourn.
After being escorted into the Bennet dining room by the two burly sons of Mr. and Mrs. Hill, the children found that each of them had been assigned a footman who had taken up his position immediately behind the chairs of the four children.
The battle was on when Gaius refused to use utensils. His plate was immediately removed by Adam Hill, and when he attempted to leave the table without being excused, John Jr. picked him up and put him back in his seat. When he tried again, Mr. Hill, who was standing guard at the door, pulled out a tether, and the defiant one sat down quietly and asked for his plate back.
“Not today, dear,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Only children who have minded their manners will have their dinner.”
Lucius, who usually followed Gaius in all things, decided to cooperate because he was hungry. Breakfast had been a bowl of “take it or leave it” porridge, which he despised. “I want food,” and he picked up his fork and knife to show that he would follow orders.
“Please. You must say please, Master Lucius,” Mrs. Bennet told the more compliant twin.
“Soldiers don’t say please,” he answered in a voice revealing just how insecure he was feeling.
“Are you an officer or an enlisted man?” Mr. Bennet asked.
“An officer.”
“Any officer in His Majesty’s Army would be regarded as a gentleman, and as such, would know the proper manners to use when dining.”
“Well, then, I am an enlisted man,” he said, even less sure than when he had been an officer.
“Enlisted men follow orders,” and after staring him in the eye, he continued, “or they are flogged.”
A wide-eyed Lucius politely asked for a plate, and an intimidated Athena and Darius followed his lead.
There was so much to accomplish in so little time, but victory was declared when all four children asked to be excused from the table, and it had not been necessary to tether any of them to their chairs.
“You must follow through at Netherfield, Charles, or today will have been for naught,” Jane said as she bid him good-bye.
“I shall see to it. I promise,” and added, “By God, Jane, you are going to make an excellent mother. Our children will be models for every child in the neighborhood.”
Jane guessed correctly that Gaius would organize a response in order to demonstrate his authority, and when the farmers and others traveling the road between Meryton and Watford reported especially aggressive squirrels pummeling them with acorns, the Crenshaw children were ordered out to the park to pick up the thousands of acorns that had fallen from centuries-old oaks, and when they finally waved the white flag and agreed to stop their pranks, Jane rewarded them with cake and punch.
Chapter 21
After looking in the mirror, Darcy pulled on his waistcoat and straightened his neckcloth, and upon achieving the desired effect, he asked Mercer his opinion.
“Very handsome, sir. I believe the blue coat is your second favorite.”
After five years of service, Darcy had great affection and respect for his valet. His loyalty was admirable and endearing, and because of this, his master often took his servant into his confidence.
“I know that statement has a double meaning, Mercer, but I have decided that since I must do this, I shall do it properly and with dignity. Miss Montford is entitled to a proper courtship, and so I shall begin one in earnest.”
“If I may speak, sir?”
“No, you may not. I have looked at this matter every which way from Sunday, but once I learned that her father was talking me up as her suitor at his club, I knew there was no escape. Besides, she is pleasant company, attractive, accomplished, and two of her sisters have five sons between them, and I must have an heir.” Following a long pause, he continued, “Mercer, please hail a hackney.” After taking one last look in the mirror, he added, “And so it begins.”
Miss Montford looked pretty in pink. It was her best color, greatly complementing her fair complexion, blue eyes, and blond hair, and Darcy expressed his admiration for her new dress. After making sure her coiffure was new, with the curling about the face that Georgiana had described, he mentioned that as well, and after a series of such compliments, he saw it: a full smile. And she had all her teeth! Not always a given, so that was a relief.
“I see you have made some new sketches, Miss Montford.” He assumed they were new, but since there were so many of them throughout the house, perhaps they had just been moved from another location. “You seem to favor St. Paul’s. It is Wren’s finest creation, so I certainly understand. I must say that your artwork is every bit as good as the artists who sell their prints in front of the cathedral.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Papa buys the visitor’s cards from the sellers for me, and I copy them in ink, charcoal, and watercolors.”
“You copy them? I had not thought. Maybe you should open your own stall,” Darcy said in jest, and Miss Montford responded with her half smile. So this is how it would be. Compliments merited full smiles, while jokes earned only half smiles. He would make a note of it. “You are so busy with all of your sketches, painting tables and screens, and embroidery, I wonder you have any time to read.”
“I read but little, sir, as there is nothing to show for it.”
At first Darcy thought she was joking, but then he took her meaning.
“It is true that there is nothing tangible produced, nothing to hang on the walls or drape over a chair, but ideas are real things. You only have to look at America, a new nation built on a foundation of ideas. Granted, they can be misused, as is the case with French revolutionaries, but they have their own power.”
Miss Montford nodded. “And how is Miss Darcy?”
So much for the power of ideas. He imagined with a father as hidebound to convention as Sir John Montford was, having “ideas” might be viewed as being dangerous, and unlike the Darcy dinner table, such things were definitely not discussed.
“She is very well and at Pemberley visiting with friends.”
“Miss Smythe?”
“No, actually new friends. If you recall, Charles Bingley is to marry Miss Jane Bennet of Longbourn Manor in Hertfordshire. Georgiana’s guests are Miss Bennet’s sister, Elizabeth, and her aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. I found their company to be most agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner spent some of her youth in nearby Lambton, and Mr. Gardiner is an avid angler and eager to cast his line in Pemberley’s streams.”