by Jann Rowland
Bingley laughed at his own jest, and after a moment, Darcy joined in with a light chuckle. “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose it cannot be so bad as I fear. It is not as if I am visiting Aunt Catherine, after all.”
“That is the spirit!” laughed Bingley. “Trust me, Darcy, Mr. Gardiner is as estimable a man as you will ever meet. Let us approach this with an open mind, shall we?”
It was well that Darcy trusted his friend’s judgment and did just that, for he feared he might have offended Mr. Gardiner otherwise. For as Darcy soon discovered, everything Bingley said about his uncle-by-marriage was the truth.
The first sign that this would not be an onerous acquaintance was the sight of the house as they stopped before it. Mr. Gardiner’s house was not an enormous mansion like those which dotted Mayfair, but it was also not a hovel. Situated on a busy street, the house was clean and well-maintained, the façade in good repair, the sidewalk clear of refuse or other such filth commonly seen in less affluent areas of London. When the door opened at their knock, a matronly woman greeted them—the housekeeper—and bade them enter with all the manners of a woman who kept house for the highest of society.
Bingley led the way to a room that served as the Gardiners’ main sitting-room, a light and airy chamber, furnished with pieces both comfortable and fine. There waited a couple, the man perhaps a dozen years Darcy’s senior, while the lady could be no more than ten. The housekeeper announced them, prompting the Gardiners to rise and greet them with impeccable manners.
“Bingley,” said Mr. Gardiner, shaking Bingley’s hand. “Welcome to you, and your friend.”
Then Mr. Gardiner waited, as precedence dictated until Darcy spoke of his desire for the introduction, which Bingley performed with his typical eagerness. The demands of polite society now met, they sat down as Mrs. Gardiner ordered tea.
“It is good to put a face to the name, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Gardiner. “Bingley has had so much to say of you since we have known him that I almost feel we are already acquainted.”
“Yes, I can well imagine Bingley’s loquaciousness,” replied Darcy, shooting his friend a grin. “I have also heard something of you both,” Darcy nodded at Mrs. Gardiner, “for not only has Bingley spoken of you, but your niece has also had some interesting things to say.”
“Well, we are very fond of all our nieces,” replied Mrs. Bingley. “What you may not know, Mr. Darcy, is that you and I have met before.”
Had Miss Bennet not spoken of her aunt’s prior residence in Lambton, he might have wondered if she mean to insinuate a connection that did not exist. Mrs. Gardiner seemed to understand his previous knowledge, for she smiled and nodded.
“I see you have some knowledge of this and suspect Lizzy must have spoken of it. My maiden name is Plumber; my father was the rector at Lambton parish for many years.”
Darcy nodded and said: “I remember Reverend Plumber, though I am sorry, my memory of you has not survived the years.”
“Nor would I expect it to,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “for I left Lambton when I was seventeen years of age, and I do not think you could have been more than seven or eight.”
“Your father passed, as I recall,” replied Darcy.
“Yes. I came to London with my mother, and we lived with my aunt for a time. It was through my uncle that I was introduced to my Edward, for which I will forever be grateful, though I came to London due to tragedy.”
“Have you returned to Lambton since?” asked Darcy.
“I have not,” replied Mrs. Gardiner, “though I hope to persuade my husband it is time to return to visit. Perhaps next summer we might take a tour.”
An invitation to visit Pemberley was on the tip of Darcy’s tongue, held in by only the barest of margins. Darcy belatedly realized that he had, as yet, no connection to these people other than that which existed through his friendship with Bingley. Should matters with Miss Bennet proceed to their natural conclusion, however, he would be quick to offer to host them. The thought, so incongruous with Darcy’s concern before he arrived, was of some surprise to him.
“Then I hope you can do so soon, Mrs. Gardiner,” said Darcy instead.
“As do I. Those years in Lambton were happy, for I adore the town and everyone in it. I still have some acquaintances who keep me abreast of the news.”
In this manner they carried on a relaxed conversation for some moments, which exposed Darcy to the fallacy of his thoughts. For now he thought on it, suspecting one sibling to be exactly like another was silliness of the highest order. Was Lady Catherine not the opposite of his late mother and Lord Matlock in character?
The longer he spoke to these people, the more Darcy realized that they were estimable people, ones whom it would be no hardship to count as acquaintances. Had Darcy not endured all the comments, the innuendo about his friendship with Bingley, a man Darcy considered to be among the best of men? If it came to that, he could endure similar disdain for his connection to the Gardiners, knowing they were better people than most of those who considered themselves high born but did not live up to their birth in their characters.
After a time of speaking together, Mr. Gardiner turned to Darcy to address the reason they were there that day. “As you are likely aware, Mr. Darcy, my late brother passed the guardianship of my unmarried nieces to me when he died. Though at the time I had the responsibility for three, Kitty, the eldest is now of age, and Jane is married, leaving only Elizabeth.
“As she has informed me of her desire to accept your invitation—and that of your aunt—I now give you my consent. Thank you for favoring her with your attention, for she is an excellent young woman, and eager to continue her acquaintance with you.”
“It is no trouble, Mr. Gardiner,” replied Darcy. “My sister cannot get enough of your niece’s company, and I find her to be well worth knowing too. As for my aunt, she has made her approval of your nieces clear.”
“That is the most surprising part of this all, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Gardiner. “Though your aunt’s approval is welcome, I would never have expected her to invite them to visit her husband’s estate.”
“Believe me, Mr. Gardiner, it surprised me as much as it did you. But my uncle and aunt are fine people. They do not give themselves airs as some of their level of society do. Lady Susan’s esteem for your nieces is genuine.”
Mr. Gardiner nodded. “I never would have suggested otherwise. Regardless, I thank you again. I can see Elizabeth made worthy acquaintances when she was introduced to you and your family. I hope you will continue in friendship.”
“As do I,” said Darcy.
That conversation marked the end of their meeting with the Gardiners, and soon after, Darcy and Bingley rose to depart. Bingley and Mr. Gardiner exchanged a few jesting words and promises to stay in touch, and then the couple farewelled them, and Darcy followed his friend to the waiting carriage. As they situated themselves within, Darcy noted his friend’s expressive look and knew he had no choice but to account for himself.
“Yes, Bingley,” said Darcy to his Bingley’s delighted grin. “You were correct about both Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. If I did not have your testimony and did not know the address of their residence, I would not have thought them anything other than gentlefolk.”
“As I informed you,” said Bingley, his very being suffused with smugness. “I hope you will forgive me if I cling to this for some time, for it is not often I gain the advantage over you.”
“If you require my forgiveness, I offer it without reservation,” replied Darcy. “There is no other recourse than to acknowledge that I was wrong.”
Bingley’s self-satisfaction did not fade as long as Darcy was with him that day. But Darcy did not mind, for he deserved it and so much more.
Chapter XX
How Miss Bingley learned of the invitation to Pemberley, Elizabeth could not say. Mr. Bingley, she suspected, was not in the habit of confiding his doings to his sister, and there had been little of congress between Mr. Bingley’s and Mr.
Hurst’s houses in the intervening days. Whether the woman had a spy in Mr. Bingley’s house who kept her informed or a stray comment between the gentlemen betrayed the matter to her knowledge, Elizabeth could not know. That the woman appeared to relate her displeasure when Mr. Bingley was not present, Elizabeth did not think was a matter of chance.
“So, Eliza,” said the woman when she stalked into the room that bright sunny morning, “I see you have succeeded in your campaign to impose upon dear Georgiana.”
Mrs. Hurst followed her sister into the room and grimaced, casting a pleading look on Jane, who was watching Miss Bingley with undisguised confusion. Elizabeth, for her, part, did not reply to Miss Bingley’s charge, for it was as ridiculous as the woman was herself.
“Well?” demanded Miss Bingley when Elizabeth did not reply. “What have you to say for yourself?”
“I have nothing to say, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth, “for I know nothing of what you speak. If you would be more explicit, perhaps I might have the pleasure of understanding you, though I suspect there will be nothing of pleasure in this conversation.”
Eyes narrowed, Miss Bingley’s countenance contorted into the rictus of a sneer. “You attempt to mislead and distract, but I am not so easily fooled.”
Elizabeth continued to regard the woman, unconcerned for her offense. This passive response irritated Miss Bingley, for she raised her hands and gesticulated at her.
“I have heard of your ‘invitation’ to Pemberley, little Eliza, so there is no need to obfuscate.”
“It is no secret, Miss Bingley. If you had addressed it directly, I would have responded at once.”
“As Mr. Darcy also invited Charles and me,” said Jane. “The invitation was not for Elizabeth alone.”
“Be silent, Jane!” Miss Bingley’s voice crackled like a strike of lightning. “I did not ask for your opinion, and you have no right to give it.”
“This is my home, Caroline,” said Jane, rising to face her sister-by-marriage. “If you do not modulate your tone, I shall have the butler escort you from the premises.”
“As if you possessed the power to do so,” sneered Miss Bingley. “Do not suppose my brother shall choose you, his pretty little insignificant wife, over his sister.”
“If you persist, we shall discover who he will support,” was Jane’s mild reply, though infused with more than a hint of steel. “I will not tolerate you speaking in this fashion; moderate your tone or I will have you removed.”
Elizabeth cheered her sister while Miss Bingley eyed her, perhaps wondering if she had the will to carry out her threat. What Miss Bingley did not know—had never taken the time to discover—was that Jane could be implacable when she felt she was in the right. She would continue in her unfailing politeness, but she would not hesitate to bar Miss Bingley from the house.
At length, Miss Bingley turned away from Jane and focused her attention on Elizabeth, deciding there was no reason to try Jane’s patience. “Well, Miss Eliza, I believe I asked you a question. What did you do to impose upon Georgiana such that she felt obliged to offer an invitation to her brother’s estate?”
“I did nothing,” replied Elizabeth. In the back of her mind, laughter echoed, for the goodwill kindled between them at Lady Susan’s ball had been as brief and unenduring as she expected. “The invitation, which you seem to believe I provoked, Georgiana offered of her own free will, and I had no notion she was considering it. In fact, I understand—from Lady Susan, no less—that they discussed it before they spoke to me. If you do not believe me, I suggest you apply to Mr. Darcy and his sister.”
“Caroline,” said Mrs. Hurst. “I believe Elizabeth speaks the truth. It would be best to drop this line of conversation, for it is not conducive to family harmony.”
It was a suggestion sensible and conciliatory, one which Elizabeth thought Miss Bingley would not listen to. A few moments later, however, she seemed to reconsider, leading her to sit on a nearby chair, her manner filled with unconcern.
“Then I shall wait for my brother to return, for there are matters of which I should speak to him.”
The hours they spent with the Bingley sisters were uncomfortable, for while Mrs. Hurst was pleasant, Miss Bingley was not. While Jane offered to inform her husband of Miss Bingley’s desire to speak with him when he returned, Miss Bingley would not agree, and none of Mrs. Hurst’s persuasion made any difference. There was little conversation to be had between them, for Miss Bingley sat with Mrs. Hurst, speaking with her—or perhaps speaking at her would be more accurate, for Mrs. Hurst said little—and when she did speak to one of the Bennet sisters, her words were short, insulting, or demeaning. Elizabeth was on the verge of snapping at the woman and would have, had Jane not shaken her head. The only reason Elizabeth did not take herself back to her room was because she did not wish to leave her sister to endure the harpy alone.
After the fact, Elizabeth did not know if Jane planned to meet Mr. Bingley before he entered the room, or if chance had taken her away at the moment of his return. After excusing herself, Jane returned a few moments later in her husband’s company, and one look at the man told Elizabeth he was not at all happy. Some explanation had passed between husband and wife which had angered him.
“Caroline,” said Mr. Bingley, setting his feet as if preparing for battle. “I understand you have come wishing to speak to me.”
“Where have you been, Charles?” demanded she. “We have waited almost two hours for your return.”
“I had business with my solicitor,” said Mr. Bingley. “Not that it is any concern of yours, but as I am giving up the lease on Netherfield on the third quarter day and intend to purchase elsewhere should we find a suitable estate, I needed to discuss those matters.”
Elizabeth could hear the annoyance in Mr. Bingley’s tone, and so could his sister, for she frowned. Miss Bingley seemed to decide it was of no moment, for she changed the subject to the reason for her coming.
“Why was I not told of Mr. Darcy’s invitation to Pemberley?”
“Because Darcy did not include you in the invitation,” replied Mr. Bingley.
“That is nonsense!” snapped Miss Bingley. “Of course, he included me, for I am a member of the Bingley family and one of Mr. Darcy’s closest friends.”
Mr. Bingley snorted his amusement. “If you think you are a close friend to Darcy, you are delusional, Caroline. Darcy is my friend—the rest of you are acquaintances by virtue of your connection to me.”
“It matters not what you think. As I am your sister, Mr. Darcy must have intended that I join you. Inform me of the date and I shall prepare my effects for our departure.”
“Again, Caroline, Darcy did not invite you.” Miss Bingley opened her mouth to retort, but Mr. Bingley was too quick. “If you recall, you set your plans for the summer when you decided to go with the Hursts to Norfolk. As your plans were already set, you were not included in Darcy’s invitation.”
“Then I shall change my plans. You must inform Mr. Darcy of my availability.”
“No, you shall not,” said Bingley.
The two combatants stood glaring at each other, neither giving an inch. Elizabeth, who had always seen Mr. Bingley as a genial man, one who did not like conflict, wished to break into loud cheers, for she suspected he was about to put his sister in her place.
“I do not wish to argue, Charles,” said Miss Bingley. “My place is with you, attending Mr. Darcy and his excellent sister in Derbyshire, and you shall not move me from my purpose.”
“You may not be moved, but you will not move to Pemberley. Do not try me in this, Caroline—you will not like the outcome.”
“Perhaps we should all go to Pemberley,” suggested Mrs. Hurst. Mr. Bingley glanced at her, but her sister did not even do her that much of a courtesy.
“I will not impose on Darcy, Louisa. Please, keep to your plans, for I will not ask Darcy to amend his invitation.”
“It is beyond my understanding, Charles,” said Miss Bingley. �
�Why do you insist on being so mulish?”
“Because I value Darcy’s friendship and will not put it at risk. Let me make a few things clear to you, Caroline. One, Darcy has invited Jane and me, while Georgiana invited Elizabeth. The invitations included no other. Second, Darcy will not offer for you. I have told you this many times and you will not listen. This time you shall.”
“You know nothing!” cried Miss Bingley, her nostrils flaring in her affront.
“It is clear you are the one who does not understand, Caroline,” replied Mr. Bingley, maintaining his composure without effort. “Third, I do not appreciate the way you have barged into my home and spoken to my wife and her sister. Since you feel it necessary to force me to choose between you and Jane, let me now inform you that Jane will always be my highest priority. If you ever thought anything else, I must wonder if your wits are addled.”
Miss Bingley gaped at her brother as if she had never seen him before. Noting this, Mr. Bingley gave her a grim smile and nodded.
“Yes, Caroline. I am aware of your belief that you rule this family. It is strange that such an intelligent woman as you are, you would believe it based on nothing more than the fact that I have often chosen to allow you to have your own way. Do you recall that I refused to allow you to convince me when you demanded I leave Netherfield without proposing to my wife?”
The darted look Miss Bingley shot at Jane suggested some nervousness. Jane, in her usual manner, returned Miss Bingley’s look with serenity, a factor which appeared to make her even more anxious. At the time, Jane had given little credence to Elizabeth’s assertion that Miss Bingley had tried to persuade Mr. Bingley against her. Elizabeth did not know if she knew the truth before, but it could not be hidden now.
“Finally,” said Mr. Bingley, commanding his sister’s attention again, “if you cannot speak to my wife with civility and respect, I shall ask that you leave. And let me be clear, Caroline,” Mr. Bingley’s firm look turned to a scowl, “if you ever speak to my wife again in the manner you have today, I shall bar you from my home until you make a sincere apology. Since I doubt you possess the capacity for sincerity at this point, our separation shall be of long duration.