by Jann Rowland
When Mr. Bennet had mounted his horse and departed, Darcy indicated to Bingley he still had a matter to discuss with him. Miss Bingley was not in evidence—Darcy did not even know if she was aware of their visitor—so it seemed like an opportune moment. Thus, Bingley led the way back to his study, where Darcy informed him of the morning’s excitement.
“Wickham in Hertfordshire!” exclaimed Bingley. “That is a strange coincidence, my friend. I would wager you had no notion of seeing him here.”
“I did not,” replied Darcy. “Had I met him with no others present, I would have chased him down and turned him over to the magistrate. As it was, I was forced to ensure the ladies’ disposition before I could see to Wickham, and he fled in the interim.”
Though Bingley appeared interested at the mention of the ladies, he concentrated his attention on the subject at hand. “What can be done about him?”
Darcy sighed and leaned back in his chair. “At present, I do not think anything can be done. Wickham is slippery and adept at eluding us, it appears. Colonel Forster dispatched one of his men to London with a letter for my cousin, but I suspect it will anger Fitzwilliam rather than assist. Wickham has been in Hertfordshire for more than a month, and in Brighton for some time before, and all the while Fitzwilliam was searching for him in London.”
“Do you expect him to come to Hertfordshire?”
“Perhaps,” replied Darcy. “It is possible he will wish to interview Wickham’s friends in the regiment. There is little to be found, but Fitzwilliam is stubborn.”
“I believe he would prefer to call it meticulous,” said Bingley with a grin.
“Whatever you call it, I doubt it will allow him to ignore this news of Wickham’s whereabouts. I do not know when he will join us here, but I believe we will see him before long.”
“Then perhaps I should inform Caroline, so she may have a room prepared.”
Though he had not intended it, Darcy grimaced at the mention of Bingley’s sister, which prompted a laugh from his friend. “What a pickle this is! It is less than two days since we have come to the country, and yet you are already eager to be out of my sister’s company.”
“I offer my apologies, Bingley,” said Darcy, embarrassed at being so caught out.
“There is no need,” said Bingley, waving away his concern. “You forget, my friend—though you have only known Caroline for about two years, I have had the pleasure of her acquaintance for over twenty. My sister’s character is not a mystery, I assure you.”
“Perhaps, but I would not insult your sister, and that means controlling myself, even when not in her company.”
Bingley shook his head. “It is just like you, Darcy, to blame yourself for reacting, when it is my sister who provokes it by her behavior whenever she is in your company.”
“Do you know when the Hursts will arrive?”
“Hurst has not been explicit as to their plans,” replied Bingley. “But I expect it should not be long. He and his father only tolerate each other’s company, and I expect they will reach the limits of their patience before long. But I would not count on them for relief—Louisa agrees with everything Caroline says, you know.”
“Well do I know it, my friend. But at least she will provide a buffer, and another person in residence who can absorb a little of your sister’s attention.”
“I hope you will not retreat from her,” said Bingley. “I have been anticipating our residence here and would not wish you to depart early.”
“No,” replied Darcy. “I can manage your sister.” In his mind’s eye, he was thinking of a pretty, vivacious miss he had met only that day. It was unlike Darcy to think of a woman in such a manner, but there was little desire in him to retreat from Hertfordshire before learning more of her, even if he was required to fend off Miss Bingley as a consequence.
“Doubtless you can,” replied Bingley. The man hesitated, his manner introspective, until he voiced his thoughts: “Tell me, what were your impressions of the Bennets?”
“Or perhaps more accurately, you wish to know what I thought of the daughters!” Darcy laughed when Bingley appeared shamefaced. “I know you, my friend. In answer to your question, they appeared to be pretty, genteel sort of ladies. The eldest and the third daughter I met only briefly and was preoccupied at the time, though I can tell you the eldest was pretty and blonde, while the youngest was smaller of stature and dark of hair.
“Miss Elizabeth—the second daughter—was present when I spoke to her father, allowing me to gain more of an impression of her. The resemblance is striking between them, though Miss Elizabeth is not so tall as her sister and, like the youngest, possesses darker hair. She also impressed me with her intelligence and courage. The family, I believe, will be well worth knowing.”
Bingley regarded at him and seemed to have some inkling of Darcy’s unstated admiration for Miss Elizabeth, but he chose not to say anything. “Then we should inform Caroline of our new acquaintances. Should you possess the stomach for it, I should appreciate your support, for I have little idea of her approbation.”
Darcy agreed, and they departed from Bingley’s study. A quick question to the housekeeper revealed Miss Bingley’s location to the two men, who made their way to the main sitting-room. As they entered, Darcy noted how Miss Bingley’s gaze slid past her brother to rest upon Darcy, as it always did when he was present. The sensation of being a side of beef or a haunch of venison was always present, for Darcy well understood the woman’s desires and knew they had everything to do with his position in society and wealth and little to do with his person.
“I see you have returned, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bingley. “The country in this neighborhood cannot be agreeable after the beauties of Derbyshire, but I hope it was tolerable.”
“Quite acceptable, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy. “In fact, the district is pleasant and pleasing.”
“But you must confess it is nothing to Pemberley.”
Darcy could not help but wonder why it was so important to Miss Bingley that he disapprove of the neighborhood. Or perhaps he did—her stated desire for her brother to lease or purchase an estate in Derbyshire would bring her closer to him and Pemberley, in her mind. How that would bring her closer to eliciting a proposal, when he had given her no inclination toward her in the last two years, he could not quite understand.
“Is one not always convinced of the superiority of his own home?” asked Darcy, the rhetorical note, he hoped, would not invite reply. “Yes, I prefer Derbyshire. But there is nothing objectionable in what I saw this morning. Quite the contrary.”
Before Miss Bingley could respond, and Darcy was uncertain she would, Bingley spoke up. “It seems, Caroline, you will get your first taste of what the neighborhood has to offer, for we have received an invitation to dinner.”
“An invitation to dinner!” echoed Miss Bingley, her surprise turning to a sneer. “I am all astonishment. In fact, I had little notion you had made any acquaintances.”
“It was Darcy’s doing,” said Bingley, her focus once again on Darcy providing Bingley with amusement. It was all Darcy could do to avoid shaking his head—Bingley did enjoy provoking his sister thus.
“Your doing, sir?” asked Miss Bingley, a definite note of disbelief in her tone. “Might I suppose someone of the neighborhood accosted you as you rode through the fields?”
“I was not put upon, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy. “I met one of the locals during my ride and was introduced to his wife and certain members of his family. Seeing we are newly arrived in the neighborhood, the family was good enough to invite us to dine with them, hoping to assist us in settling in.”
Miss Bingley sniffed with her usual disdain. “Though I would not call the staff here adequate, I have brought the servants and meals up to an acceptable level—it is more than we will find anywhere else. It will not be possible to expect the level of cuisine we would find at Pemberley, but I hope it will be sufficient.”
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sp; “More than sufficient,” replied Darcy.
His compliment provoked an unwarranted measure of preening as if he had praised her culinary skills to the sky. Bingley noted it too, for Darcy saw his friend’s grin. Perhaps it was not proper for him to take such amusement from his sister’s continual attempts to impress, but with a sister such as Miss Bingley, Darcy supposed Bingley must take his amusement where he could.
Then Miss Bingley’s expression altered, like the sudden change of wind from a soft westerly spring breeze to a cold northern gale. The frown she sported was fixed upon him, and Darcy could sense a hint of speculation behind it.
“It is curious how you made the acquaintance of a local family so quickly.” She paused and sniffed. “Though I would hesitate to dignify any of them with a discernment necessary to the task, I suppose they must have seen you for the prominent man you are and imposed upon you.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy. “It was a pleasure to make their acquaintance.”
“It was?” asked she, her tone and narrowed eyes informing him she thought him to be dissembling. “And how did this fortuitous meeting come to pass?”
“In the usual manner, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy, keeping his tone and manner bland. Under no circumstances would Darcy share his intrigues with George Wickham, nor did he wish her to know of Wickham’s interest in Georgiana.
“Does it matter how Darcy met them?” asked Bingley, deflecting his sister’s attention. “What matters is that he has met them, and as we came without fanfare, these are the first locals we have met. I, for one, am eager to accept their invitation. It shows an affability which bodes well for the future.”
“As always,” was Miss Bingley’s derisive rejoinder, “you are far too apt to associate with anyone you meet, Charles. We know nothing of these people. How can you be certain they measure up to our standards?”
“Darcy has met them,” said Bingley, almost causing Darcy to break out in laughter. “Or do you question his judgment?”
Miss Bingley’s eyes flicked to Darcy and then away. When she spoke again, Darcy was unsurprised she chose to ignore her brother’s statement.
“No, it will not do, Charles. You must send a reply to these people declining the invitation. It would not do for us to encourage intimacy with those who may be little more than lowborn louts.”
“Would you insult our closest neighbors?” asked Bingley. While Bingley’s tone was reasonable, Darcy—who apparently knew the man better than his sister—knew he was not about to give way to her condescending dismissal of his new neighbors. Miss Bingley thought she ruled her brother, that he was weak-willed and easily led. But Darcy knew that Bingley did not often give way to his sister when he felt he was correct.
“I care not if they are insulted,” snapped Miss Bingley. “The material point is we cannot be seen to associate with those who are not acceptable.”
“Perhaps you should meet them before you pronounce them unacceptable.”
“There is no need for me to meet them. I am highly conscious of the quality of people who inhabit such neighborhoods as this. If you are not careful, they will entrap you, seeking to attach you to their insipid daughters to raise them from the squalor in which they live. A connection to you would be quite a feather in the cap of anyone living in this neighborhood.”
Though her words were ostensibly directed at her brother, Miss Bingley’s eyes flicked to Darcy for an instant, one so quick he might have missed it had he not been looking for it. It was all the reason Darcy needed to insert himself once again into the conversation.
“There is no reason to fear the family I met, Miss Bingley. While they are not among the wealthy of society, they were quite acceptable.”
“How could you know it on such a short acquaintance?” challenged Miss Bingley.
“Do you suspect me of lacking discernment?” asked Darcy.
Darcy’s statement was uttered with a disinterested air in the certainty she would backtrack. He was correct, for she assumed that false smile and syrupy sweet tone she used when attempting to cajole him to her way of thinking. That it had not yet worked had not penetrated her conscious—Darcy found it more than a little patronizing.
“Of course not, Mr. Darcy, for there is no more discriminating man than you. It is merely my thought that those possessing of baser natures, or even less refined manners, will attempt to hide what they truly are. After nothing more than one morning’s acquaintance, we cannot be certain, and thus, we should step back a little, force them to prove to us what quality of people they are.”
When she finished her pretty little speech, Miss Bingley sat back and regarded him, a half smirk playing about her lips, thinking she had won the argument. Though Darcy did not consider it an argument—for there was no chance of her persuading him—he was not about to allow her the upper hand.
“One can learn much of others if the opportunity to observe is truly taken, Miss Bingley.” Darcy paused, noting the smile which had run away from her face, enjoying the opportunity to pierce her conceit. “Regarding the Bennet family, the estate is well maintained and prosperous, the master diligent and welcoming, the mistress gracious, and the daughters I met were everything proper and lovely.”
“Daughters, you say?”
“Yes,” replied Darcy. “I was introduced to the eldest three, all of whom are demure and interesting women, and though I did not meet them, there are also two younger girls.”
“Five daughters?” demanded Miss Bingley, her eyebrows rising in disbelief. “That is singular. If there is no son to inherit, what will happen to the estate when this Mr. Bennet is gone?”
“That is hardly a question I could ask, given the newness of my acquaintance with the family,” said Darcy, though knowing well who was to be the next heir. “It is not uncommon for a man to pass an estate down to one of his daughters.”
“I suppose,” said Miss Bingley. “But I still think we should allow our knowledge of the family to develop naturally, without a precipitous invitation which will tie us to an acquaintance too early.”
“There is nothing more to discuss, Caroline,” said Bingley, though it was clear he was enjoying how Darcy had overcome all Miss Bingley’s objections. “We have been invited, and we will not offend them by rejecting their kindness. We shall go to dinner tomorrow.”
Miss Bingley, however, ignored her brother, continuing to look at Darcy, as if she thought he could overrule him. Thus, it seemed to Darcy that it was time to deliver the coup de grâce.
“Again, Miss Bingley, I would remind you the Bennet family are gentlefolk. Whatever their situation in life, they own land, and while I do not know the extent of their history, it has been of several generations at the very least. In matters such as this, their birth gives them legitimacy, as do their present circumstances. There are many in society who pretend to be more than they are, but I am confident the Bennets are not among their number.”
Miss Bingley could not misunderstand Darcy’s inference. The unfortunate thing about it was that Darcy was certain she would convince herself he had meant something else before the end of the evening. In the end, it seemed her objections had been quelled by his final words, which was all he wanted.
“Then it seems as if we have no choice.” Miss Bingley rose and gave him a brazen look. “As always, we shall trust in your judgment, Mr. Darcy. For now, however, I must see to the servants to ensure my instructions regarding tonight’s dinner have been followed.”
When she had exited the room and the door closed behind her, Bingley turned to Darcy and regarded him with a grin. “You know she has gone to ensure a stupendous dinner. It will be a competition to ensure the fare we receive tonight is far superior to what our hosts will provide tomorrow.”
Darcy shook his head, knowing his friend was correct. “She may as well not bother. I have sat at her table before and have no expectation it is anything other than worthy of praise. Sho
uld tomorrow’s meal be excellent, it will be no reflection on your sister.”
“But she will not see it that way.”
“No, I suppose she will not.”
It had long been Mr. Bennet’s custom to tease his wife and children about certain matters of which they had an interest but Bennet possessed the knowledge. The game was not malicious and, instead, forced them to use whatever wiles they possessed to cajole the information out of him. While it provided him much amusement, he thought they considered it more of an exasperation, even while they played along with it. Eventually, however, the information would be vouchsafed, and they would be satisfied.
The knowledge of Mr. Bingley was an example of this, for the moment he returned, his family subjected him to the inquisition. Even Lizzy, who had the most knowledge of their morning visitor, was interested to hear of his friend. It was when the family sat down to dinner that Bennet relented.
“Is he tall?” asked Jane
“Is he handsome?” asked Lydia.
“Does he wear a blue jacket?” asked Kitty.
Finally, Mr. Bennet was convinced to acknowledge his defeat, for he laughed and set his knife and fork down on the table. “I am sure I am unable to discern whether Mr. Bingley his handsome, Lydia,” Lydia frowned at his response, “but he seemed pleasantly featured to me.”
Turning to Kitty, he said: “Today he was wearing a green jacket—I am sorry to disappoint you, Kitty. And, yes, he is tall, Jane, though not as tall as his friend Darcy.”
Lydia leaned back and crossed her arms, throwing vexed looks at her father and eldest sisters. “I am still quite put out that I was not introduced to this Mr. Darcy. It sounds as if he is a very handsome man.”
“There, there, Lydia,” said Mrs. Bennet. “We shall all be known to Mr. Darcy and his friends before long.”
“Your mother is correct, Lydia, for we have invited Mr. Darcy and his friends to supper with us tomorrow night.”
This news was still unknown to all the sisters except Elizabeth, and there was great rejoicing between the two youngest. The older sisters took the news in stride, though Elizabeth’s lack of reaction resulted in Jane throwing her a mock glare.