by Jann Rowland
“And let me make one more thing clear,” said Darcy, leaning forward and gazing into her fearful eyes. “If she will have me, I intend to make Miss Elizabeth my wife. Though you have long aspired to that position, let me state and here and now so there is no misunderstanding—nothing could ever have induced me to offer for you. You are wasting your time attempting to pull me to your way of thinking, for I will not be moved. I would be highly gratified if you would cease this improper display and leave me in peace.”
“Aunt Esther awaits, Caroline,” said Bingley, his voice carrying a hint of warning. “It would be nothing to write an express to her and send you to the north. Why, she would not mind if I put you on a coach heading north without informing her.”
Miss Bingley glared at her brother, a mutinous glint in her eye, but his return glare was without waver, without mercy. In the end, she looked away and stared in moody silence out the window for the rest of the journey. To the gentlemen, the silence was a blessed relief.
Chapter XXV
The day after their return to Hertfordshire, the gentlemen visited Longbourn. Accompanying them were Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, but also Miss Bingley, though it was obvious the last of the company was not at all pleased to be there. They calculated manner of their greeting to deliver a message, the contents of which were left to the imagination of no one present.
“Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley leading the way. “How good it is to see you again after our short absence.”
“Mr. Bingley,” greeted Mrs. Bennet. “It is good to have you returned. There was some talk of your business consuming more of your time than you thought.”
No one missed the reference in her words, but Miss Bingley did not even have the grace to appear embarrassed. “There was never any chance of that, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley, refraining from glancing at his sister. “I charged Louisa with passing my regrets along and informing you of my plans. The matter for which I was summoned was not difficult, but it was urgent.”
“Your sister informed us,” said Mrs. Bennet, nodding with a smile to Mrs. Hurst. “I hope your journey was pleasant.”
It was a tactful way of changing the subject, though Elizabeth could not imagine traveling with Miss Bingley was in any way pleasant. Mr. Bingley, showing the gentleman he was, alluded to good roads and pleasant weather, and the conversation moved to other subjects. Miss Bingley, it seemed, was not inclined to continue with her previous behavior, though Elizabeth was uncertain of the reason. The lady’s continued scrutiny of the Bennets and the palpable sense of distaste which hovered over her like a cloud was not dispelled. If she was quiet, that was enough for Elizabeth.
Though Elizabeth might have expected to be in Mr. Darcy’s company as soon as the gentleman arrived, he approached her, whispered to her of the need to speak to her father, and then made his way thence. Elizabeth waited practicing patience, knowing they were speaking of the gentleman’s confrontation with his aunt, certain Mr. Darcy would speak of it to her when he joined her. The slight sense of relief her father displayed was enough to inform her of the result of Mr. Darcy’s endeavors.
“I hope you will allow me to thank you for your assistance, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth when a few moments later he made the brief communication to her. Mr. Bennet was, at the same time, informing her mother, who was regarding Mr. Darcy with obvious gratitude. “It is my understanding your aunt can be a difficult woman. I hope she accepted your advice in the manner you intended it.”
Mr. Darcy’s slight grimace informed Elizabeth of the lie of her words, a sight which gave her no little amusement. “She was not so sanguine. Lady Catherine has the singular ability to believe herself correct in any circumstance, which makes convincing her otherwise a perilous proposition.”
The irony in his voice was such as to provoke outright laughter in Elizabeth. “Then it is well you escaped unscathed.”
“Again, not unscathed. But unharmed at least.” Mr. Darcy paused and regarded her with his usual serious demeanor for a moment, and then he continued: “A larger part of the argument was my insistence of not following my aunt’s dictates, especially pertaining to those regarding her daughter.”
“Oh,” said Elizabeth, uncertain what to make of his comment. “I was not aware you intended to raise that subject.”
“Do you think I could brave my aunt in her den and not be drawn into such a discussion?” asked Mr. Darcy, mirth twinkling in his eyes. “I assure you, Miss Elizabeth, I was not required to raise the subject, for my aunt was more than willing to do it herself.”
“And what was the result?”
“Lady Catherine is, as you might expect given everything you have heard of her, not pleased. It has led to a break between us, though I doubt her objections are at an end. My uncle has assured me he will stop any attempts she might contemplate to interfere. With that, I must be content.”
Conscious as she was that the argument had come about because of his recent attentions to her, Elizabeth did not know how she should respond. Mr. Darcy seemed to understand this, for he changed the subject. They spent a pleasant time in each other’s company, speaking of many things, and if Elizabeth noted Miss Bingley’s cold glare, which was on them more than on the rest of the company put together, at least the woman kept her opinions to herself. There was little more for which Elizabeth could ask.
Miss Bingley’s behavior would persist beyond that first day. The Bennets returned the visit the next day, and while Miss Bingley was present, she spoke little and sat with her discontented glare fixed on them all. Elizabeth decided not to concern herself with the reasons for the woman’s sudden tact. Not only did she not care, but it was enough she was silent more often than not.
Three days after the gentlemen’s return to Netherfield was the day the Bennets had been invited for dinner. That dinner party was notable for a few reasons, not the least of which was a change in the management of Netherfield. But that was not to be made known to them until they were called into dinner.
Once again, Kitty and Lydia had begged, and been allowed, to attend the dinner, and while they were disappointed the colonel was not present to entertain them, they were still pleased to feel like part of the company, like the adults they were becoming. The Bingley party welcomed the family with all the warmth of new acquaintances becoming close friends, and they sat together while waiting for the call to dinner. It was then, to no one’s surprise, that Kitty and Lydia began to giggle louder than perhaps they ought.
“It is to be expected, I suppose,” drawled Miss Bingley in a loud voice. “Young girls brought out into society before they are ready cannot help but misbehave.”
Elizabeth, whose attention had been consumed by Mr. Darcy, turned to see what the fuss was about, but she could see nothing out of the ordinary. The girls had stopped to stare at Miss Bingley for her impudence, but as their voices had not intruded on Elizabeth’s senses, she had no notion their behavior had been truly reprehensible.
“Perhaps you are correct, Miss Bingley,” said Mr. Bennet, his look quelling any further noise the sisters might have made. “However, I have always understood that young girls should be given a taste of society before they are out. It not only teaches them what is expected when they debut, but it gives them something to anticipate.” Mr. Bennet turned a fond eye on his elder progeny. “It seems to have worked with my older daughters.”
Miss Bingley sniffed, her manner dripping with disdainful conceit. “Then it is incumbent upon their minder to ensure they do not disrupt the rest of the company.”
Mrs. Garret, sitting near to the youngest Bennets, did not bother to make a response to the supercilious woman, though she glanced fleetingly in her direction. Elizabeth was certain Mrs. Garret considered Miss Bingley herself in need of some manners, a sentiment with which Elizabeth agreed without reserve.
“It is,” interjected Mrs. Bennet, her hard gaze fixed upon Miss Bingley. “In this instance, however, I cannot say my girls have misbeh
aved to any great degree.”
It was fortunate Miss Bingley did not seem eager to continue to speak, for more than one member of the Bennet family was becoming annoyed with her criticisms. And more than one member of Miss Bingley’s own family, if Elizabeth’s observation was correct. Her silence and the call to dinner which occurred soon after was a relief to them all.
When they sat down to dinner, the change in the household was made known to them, and Elizabeth understood it was likely that which in part fueled Miss Bingley’s disgruntled manner. Rather than Miss Bingley, it was Mrs. Hurst whom Mr. Bennet escorted to dinner. She was seated at the foot of the table, with Mr. Bennet by her side, denoting her current position as mistress of the estate. Miss Bingley appeared quite annoyed with her position in the middle of the table, one determined because she was the lowest of them all, being neither married nor the daughter of a gentleman. It was fortunate that those seated on either side of her had other partners with whom to converse, for Miss Bingley gave all the indication of a desire to snap at anyone who spoke to her.
Mrs. Hurst was a competent hostess, for the dinner had been planned with flare and included dishes which would appeal to them all. There was a ragout for Mr. Hurst’s more eclectic tastes, as well as the plainer dishes that had always appealed to Mr. Bennet. Where she might have procured this intelligence Elizabeth did not know, for she had not been present when Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, and Miss Bingley had dined at Longbourn. If Miss Bingley had been left to plan the menu, Elizabeth thought it equally likely she would have wished to overwhelm them with an elaborate dinner as wish to feed them nothing but stale bread and water.
“It seems to me you appreciate the repast,” said Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth. The gentleman had made certain to offer his arm to Elizabeth when they were called to dinner.
“Who does not enjoy good food?” asked Elizabeth. “Any good hostess must take the different tastes of the diners into consideration—it seems to me Mrs. Hurst has done well, everyone seems satisfied.”
“Indeed, they are,” replied Mr. Darcy. “Is there anything present which is an especial favorite of yours?”
“Not in particular, Mr. Darcy. I am, my mother informs me, easy to please at the dinner table, for I have a wide variety of tastes and few foods I detest.”
“That is fortunate,” replied Mr. Darcy. “When she was a child, my father always had difficulty inducing Georgiana to eat, for she was very fussy.”
Elizabeth grinned. “Is she still fussy? If so, perhaps you could send her to Longbourn for a time. We would cure her of such habits.”
A disgusted snort reached Elizabeth’s ears, and she turned slightly to see Miss Bingley regarding them with contempt. Not caring for the woman’s opinion, Elizabeth ignored her, turning back to Darcy.
“That is a good suggestion, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, ignoring Miss Bingley in his turn. “Though she is not so difficult to please as she was when she was a child, her tastes are still rather narrow.”
“Most of my family eat with little coaxing, Mr. Darcy. Mary has more she dislikes than the rest of us, but my mother is not often required to avoid serving something because we will not eat it.”
“I have often observed,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that it is incumbent upon a parent to introduce their children to a wide variety of foods to avoid such persnickety behavior. From the time they were young, all my girls were given what the family ate and required to finish it. Sometimes they ate those foods which were not appealing to them, but it taught them to have good appetites and to try new foods which they might otherwise reject.”
“That is wisdom, indeed, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy. “It is a path my father took with me. Over time it helped with Georgiana’s palate, though I suspect hers is naturally more finicky than that of your daughters.”
Mr. Darcy’s words to support Mrs. Bennet’s words seemed to remove whatever Miss Bingley was about to say, likely in condemnation of the Bennets, for she had opened her mouth to speak and subsequently closed it. The manner in which she looked at Mr. Darcy suggested confusion. Miss Bingley did not know Mr. Darcy so well as she thought she did.
After dinner, when the party retired back to the sitting-room, Elizabeth’s conversation continued unabated with Mr. Darcy. As Jane was occupied by Mr. Bingley’s ardent ministrations, that left the rest of the company to make do with one another, though Elizabeth noted that Miss Bingley stayed nearby to where Elizabeth spoke with Mr. Darcy. For the most part, she remained quiet, but there were a few times she interjected into their conversation with an observation, sometimes pointed, sometimes innocuous. As this went on, Elizabeth noted her actions seemed more directed toward understanding Mr. Darcy, than disparaging Elizabeth. She still could not resist denigrating a rival from time to time.
“I did not realize your cousins were so young,” said Mr. Darcy in response to a comment Elizabeth made about her relations. “In my extended family, Georgiana is the youngest. As I am twelve years her senior, Georgiana comprises most of my present experience with children.”
“My uncle is younger than his two sisters,” said Elizabeth by way of explanation. “As building his business occupied his younger years, he married a little later than might usual.”
“A man of industry,” said Mr. Darcy with evident approval. “Since you speak of them often, I assume you get on with your uncle’s family.”
“We get on with them very well. Uncle and Aunt Gardiner are excellent people and had much influence on Jane and me before their own children arrived to preoccupy them. Though Uncle is in trade, if you met him, you would not know it unless you were informed of it, for his manners are that of a gentleman.”
“It is my opinion that people should not strive to appear anything other than what they are,” interjected Miss Bingley.
“That is an opinion with which I can heartily agree, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth easily. “My uncle never attempts to hide his profession.”
Then Elizabeth turned away from Miss Bingley, though not before noting the woman was gazing at Mr. Darcy with curiosity, rather than offended by Elizabeth’s rebuttal.
“As for Aunt Gardiner, she is the daughter of a parson, who was himself the son of a gentleman. Thus, she is well aware of how to behave properly herself. They are the most wonderful relations, and despite whatever anyone says about their position in society, one could never be ashamed of them.”
“It is my hope I shall make their acquaintance someday,” said Mr. Darcy.
“If you remain for Christmas, you shall,” said Elizabeth, “for they visit us at Longbourn every year.”
From there, the conversation meandered around other such topics, relations, children, proper behavior, and to other similar matters. Eventually, they began to speak of childrearing, Mr. Darcy contrasting what he experienced with his father and some of the practices he tried to implement with his younger sister when he became responsible for her, Elizabeth responding with what she herself had known as a child.
“My sister, as I have said before, is at heart a shy creature, though it is true she has gained more confidence these past months. There has been little need for discipline as she has always been very obliging.”
“Of course, she has,” inserted Miss Bingley. “Miss Darcy is quite the most excellent young lady I have ever met.”
“Thank you, Miss Bingley,” said Mr. Darcy.
It was of interest for Elizabeth to note that however Miss Bingley had used Miss Darcy as a means to get close to the brother, her regard for the girl seemed genuine. As was their custom by this time, Mr. Darcy made a gracious response to Miss Bingley and they returned to their conversation.
“Perhaps your sister is a quiet girl, but my youngest sisters are not,” said Elizabeth. She directed a fond glance at Kitty and Lydia, who were seated beside Mrs. Garret, whispering to each other, though punctuated occasionally with a giggle. “Lydia, in particular, has always been high-spirited, and while Kitty shares many of the
same characteristics, she is not so fearless as Lydia. Instead, she follows where Lydia leads.”
“That is curious, Miss Elizabeth. It is the elder sibling who leads most often.”
Elizabeth could only shrug. “Usually you would be correct. In this instance, however, Lydia is most decidedly the leader.” Elizabeth paused and sighed. “When Kitty is of age to come out formally, it will be a trial, I am sure, for Lydia will still be two years from coming out and will feel her exclusion keenly.”
“Do you not hold to the notion of younger sisters not coming out until the elder sisters are married?” asked Miss Bingley. Again Elizabeth was interested to note the woman seemed genuinely curious, rather than trying to shade her character in Mr. Darcy’s eyes.
“If the Bennets were prominent in London society, I might agree with you,” said Elizabeth. “In the country, however, it is customary to allow that rule to lapse. It would not do to provoke hard feelings in younger siblings when the elder are not inclined or unable to marry. Do you not agree?”
The question was as much for Miss Bingley as it was for Mr. Darcy. The former, however, seemed curious to hear the latter’s opinion on the subject, for she did nothing more than look to him. Mr. Darcy was quick to give his response.
“I do. In the country, there is little harm in girls coming out while their sisters are unmarried. In London, however, it would not be contemplated.” Mr. Darcy paused and smiled. “It seems to me unlikely your sisters will be required to concern themselves on that regard. It is little likely you or Miss Bennet will remain unmarried long enough to cause problems, and with only Miss Mary unmarried for the present, there should be little impediment.”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks heating at his obvious inference, and Miss Bingley’s expression darkened. Unwilling to pursue that line of conversation, Elizabeth directed it back toward her earlier comments.