298Well! I'm happy to say that Shadows Upon Netherfield has been doing amazing, and reached the top 50 in the Regency charts on Amazon, and that's pretty much because of you guys! Thank you for supporting me. As I continue to post new chapters of it here, I am working on a brand new book, entitled A Necessary Engagement.
I hope you like the first chapter!
June 17th, Pemberley, Derbyshire
The sun was rising over Pemberley just as Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy's carriage crested the final hill that would bring him home. He pulled back the curtain, grateful he had decided to leave the last inn early in the morning, just as dawn broke. He had missed his home estate, and the people within it. He had not wanted to stay the night in Tardide, but the horses had been flagging and so had his footman. A sleep in the inn had not done wonders for his back, but a walk and a stretch would soon cure that.
He planned on taking a good walk once he had greeted his sister, and his father. He'd brought a few gifts for Georgiana from London, and he looked forward to seeing her face when she received them.
Across from him, his close friend and confidant, Mr. Bingley, slept, oblivious to how close they were to Pemberley. Mr. Darcy looked fondly upon his friend. They had grown quite close during the season in London. Two more opposite men could not exist in the entire world Mr. Darcy thought. Where he himself was quite quiet and reserved, Mr. Bingley found joy and laughter in almost everything he did. The only reason they had met in the first place was that Mr. Bingley was showing off his new sister freshly come out into London's society. Mr. Darcy was of course a target for all matchmaking mothers and the upper ladies of the con so Mr. Bigley had been introduced to him as a matter of course. Although Mr. Darcy had no interest in the Caroline Bingley Mr. Bingley sister, he had down fast and good friendship with Mr. Bingley himself. Perhaps the only reason he had been brave enough to come home to Pemberly have been the fact that Mr. Bingley would accompany him on the trip. Mr. Darcy was just grateful that his longtime friend would be would be by his side while he faced his father.
Mr. Darcy knocked his boots against Mr. Bingley's foot. Mr. Bingley started awake with a grunt, peering at Mr. Darcy from between squinted blond lashes.
"What is it?" Mr. Bingley asked, although the words were half-formed in his mouth. Mr. Darcy snorted a laugh, for Mr. Bingley was perhaps the only one he knew who was so hapless in sleep and in wakefulness both.
"Don't tell me you have no interest in seeing the great estate of Pemberley as we arrive," Mr. Darcy drawled. Mr. Bingley sat up with a start and yanked back the curtains.
"Oh," he exclaimed, in full wakefulness, an attitude that inspired no small amount of jealousy in Mr. Darcy (he was hard pressed to find himself fully in his own mind without a good helping of strong tea first thing), "it is quite grand, as you said."
"As I said," Mr. Darcy repeated, not able to help the smile on his face. Mr. Bingley had a boyish charm that infected everything around him, and it was impossible to be sour in his presence.
"Yes, as you said. I was listening, Darcy. You always think I do not listen, but I insist that I do." Mr. Bingley shot his friend a reproachful look, and then glanced out the carriage windows again. "I say, it looks like there's good hunting in the forest over there."
"We'll go, first thing, if you want," Mr. Darcy said, stretching his legs out with a sigh. Even though the Darcy carriage they had commanded back to Pemberley was quite sizable and well sprung, he was tall enough that it made for some uncomfortable riding at times. "Good hunting, and we have excellent horses that will offer even you a challenge."
Mr. Bingley's seat was well renowned to be exceptional, surpassed only by that of Mr. Darcy himself who acted as if he had rather been born in the saddle.
"Mmm. And the local village," Mr. Bingley stopped for a moment and then turned to Mr. Darcy, a sly look in his eyes. "What of the ladies in the local village."
"Cad," Mr. Darcy said, and Mr. Bingley affected an expression of mock outrage. "Is your skirt-chasing no shame to you?"
"I chase love, not skirt," Mr. Bingley replied, pretending at offense. "I am looking for the lady of my heart, with whom I will spend the rest of my presumably happy days. Just because you insist on being a miserable, single sod and wild bachelor does not mean the rest of us are so set on our cold, quiet beds."
"The ladies of the local village do not possess the bloodlines to satisfy your sisters, so I do not think that you have any hope in pursuing affection there that is beyond the momentary," Mr. Darcy said, and then recalling a particularly mortifying event from his youth, he fell silent. Mr. Bingley noticed but did not point out to his friend that he had gone utterly quiet and morose. Such things, with Mr. Darcy, were best left alone until the man had sorted his own emotions out.
The carriage pulled to the gate, and the gatekeeper walked out, a man in fine livery given his position.
"I say, your father does keep the staff well presented," Mr. Bingley said as they passed on through after a cursory inspection that informed the gatekeeper that it was indeed Mr. Darcy returning home.
"Yes, well, appearances," Mr. Darcy said, feeling that familiar creep of dread gnawing at his stomach. "He does not wish for anyone to arrive and think that we are a less than for having a slovenly gate keeper as so many of the country houses do."
"Hmm," was all Mr. Bingley said as the carriage rolled onwards. They had no sooner arrived and spilled out of the carriage but thirteen-year-old Georgiana launched herself at Mr. Darcy with a shriek better befitting a common barn owl than a young lady.
Thankfully, Mr. Darcy observed with a quick look down the lines of servants that had come to greet him, their father had not turned up. He was likely in his study, enjoying a cigar and some brandy.
Mr. Darcy was free to embrace his beloved young sister without fear of reproach.
"You're home, oh you're home, Fitzwilliam," Georgiana said, pressing herself up against him and then shoving her face into his chest and inhaling his scent with a sigh.
"Where, might I ask, is your governess? Does she know that her charge is out and about, throwing herself at strange men from the city?" Darcy asked, and Georgiana just giggled before pulling back.
"Indeed, who is this fine young lady," Mr. Bingley asked as Georgiana blushed and curtsied for him. He bowed low back to her with a playful wink and Darcy felt himself relax minutely. No matter how bad the reunion would be with his father, at least he had Bingley and Georgiana to temper any negative feelings. He looked up at the grand walls of Pemberley's manse and felt his heart beat in his throat. He was home.