Chances Come

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Chances Come Page 18

by Ney Mitch


  “My attentions toward him were in response to the coldness that I felt from another quarter. I was looking for friendship because I did not find it elsewhere. You may pretend that you do not know how that feels, but I suspect that you do.”

  She was silent, and it was well. Such outward confrontation was not how our relationship worked. Often, she was the one indirectly insulting me, and I would always directly ignore her. For a second, I regretted offering the olive branch between us, because there was a balance to our animosity for each other. We were so used to holding each other in subtle contempt that I think that was all that we knew how to be. Yet, here I was, changing the dynamic of our relationship. Perchance neither she nor I would be thanking me for it.

  “Miss Bingley, why do you despise me so much?” I asked her.

  She did not answer.

  “Do you even know why?” I furthered.

  “Yes, I do,” she finally admitted, “but I do not want to confess it. Yet, I know that you are not stupid. I sense that you know why I do not favor you.”

  “Yes, I do. In truth, you never needed to say it out loud.” At first, her discomfort towards me was because she felt that I was beneath her notice. Yet, as time passed along, and I would sometimes gain the attention of Mr. Darcy, she felt starved for the attention that he tore from her and gave me. I had something that she craved for, but never fully achieved: his notice. Whole and undivided.

  “Miss Bingley,” I continued, “I understand the impulse to feel resentment when one feels as if attention is taken from them. I also understand how it feels to like where one may gain nothing in return. I also know how it feels to come close to something and then for it to be yanked away from one. And lastly, I know how easy it is to wish to torment another woman when you feel that she is getting in the way of what you seek.”

  “Do you?” she asked me passionately.

  “Yes, I do. And I know that nothing I say will ever ease the pain of what you feel. But I must try. Miss Bingley, never let your heartache drive you to attack the woman who is in the way of what you seek. It will never give you the satisfaction that you think. It will never increase the man’s love for you. If anything, it will make you look uglier. I learned that in the hard manner myself. Our jealousies and constant attempts to degrade another woman for getting the man we desire never results in us winning. It only ends in us looking like harpies. I don’t know if you and I will ever be comfortable around each other. It might not be our destiny. But at least I tried to give us this moment.”

  I was about to move away from her, but she turned to me and whispered, for her words were not something that she wished for any to hear. And from what we gathered, no one was near us at the time.

  “It is just,” she urged, “it is not fair. You did not even care for Mr. Darcy when you met him. You never showed any particular interest in him at all. In fact, you sometimes were short with him. Yet, I was there to always flatter him, bestow attention on him and take an interest in his interests. And yet, he pushed me aside and sought you out.”

  “First, my lack of partiality for him originated from his lack of partiality for me. I was not in the habit of taking interest in a man who showed nothing for me. And second, yes, you flattered him, but think on his life. He is wealthy, renowned, and therefore, many women must have sought after him, viewing him as a prize for them or for their daughters to obtain. He’s used to being regarded as people looking on him as a prize! And then, you meet him, and you fall into the crowd of many voices who make him feel the same discomfort that he felt every other time that he was put on display. It is not an easy thing to be looked on as an object that must be won. When he met me, I did not seek him out. Therefore, there was nothing that I had done to bait him, to lure him in. He did not feel like an object around me. Does that make any sense to you?”

  Caroline Bingley looked down at the floor.

  “Yes,” she said, “I suppose that it does. No one ever mentioned it to me in that way before. Yet, it is a frightening thing… that sometimes the only way to win a man’s affections is to not show him any.”

  “It is not that necessarily. Some men do like seeing a woman show affection for him quickly. Other men prefer to know your heart in moderation. They wish to know you first, and then learn of your heart later. Other men prefer a chase. The lesson of this situation, if there is a lesson, is that not all men are the same. Mr. Darcy is not the same as any man you or I have ever met. Besides, we do not know that Mr. Darcy is fully in love with me. All that I am aware of is that I am in love with him.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes.”

  “It hurts me to hear that. And to know that I was correct all this time. When I first met you, I got the sense that you would be the one to hurt me in some way.”

  This confession confused me as well as amazed me.

  “How? And why?”

  “I do not know. With Jane, she was beautiful, and I should have been wary of her, but I knew that she was not the sort to attract him. Yet, with you, you seemed different, and for reasons that I cannot fathom, I felt that somehow, you would be the one to upset my happiness. And I was correct. Miss Eliza, I speak now as someone who does not wish to hurt you, or be cruel to you, but I cannot bear the sight of you now. Please understand, I wish that I did not feel this anger and resentment, but I do. I cannot help myself. I am just so heartbroken, and it tears me apart. Therefore, I thank you for speaking to me now. By doing so, you are showing me your goodness, but nothing can cure me now. Let us part, so I can recover alone.”

  In that moment, my heart did reach out to her. She had hurt me, her character was that of a pretentious person who felt always above lower company, and she was artful. Yet, in that moment, all of us women are the same. She was heartbroken and I was one of the tools through which her heart had been affected.

  “Yes. I am sorry for the pain that I cause you.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, “and I wish that I could admire you for it. I ought to. But I cannot.”

  “I understand.”

  I left her alone to accept the reality that this was one of the worst days of her life.

  At some point, I had a moment to relax and take a breath from all the dancing. That evening, I had danced every dance up until that point, and I was quite exhausted. Yet, since I had not made many acquaintances at the ball, I felt certain that I did not have to worry about being asked.

  Mr. Darcy was engaged, at present, for he was dancing with Mrs. Hurst. As my eyes scanned the set of dancers, I was surprised to see Kitty standing up with Sir Aleck again, but it was a welcome sight. She appeared to be enjoying herself and he was doing so as well. Indeed, a woman’s dressmaker was truly her greatest friend, for Kitty’s gown suited her so well, that I believed that it had made Kitty look as lovely as Jane. It also helped that her hair was done by the very best of Darcy’s servants. Usually, up until this point, Kitty had to make do with being the fourth prepared of us Bennet sisters, and by the time that the servants had reached her, her hair was never going to be the best. Yet now, it was done in a way that flattered her face and augmented her style of beauty. In that moment, I could say that I was truly content.

  My father was gone… yet, I would recover.

  Longbourn was still not fully known to be ours… but I had the feeling that we would fall somewhere. In life there are cracks that a person can fall into, and those cracks can either lead to a deep abyss, or into a comfortable place. I felt that whatever our circumstances, there would be someone to assist us, and not to cast us aside among the rocks of misfortune and destitution. For the first time in so long I felt as if… we had a future, and the future was definite.

  Yet, a moment of peace must not last, and we must never expect it to, for as I continued to sit there and ponder our predicament, I noticed a most unsettling sight:

  Jane and Colonel Fitzwilliam were dancing another set together. Therefore, they now would have danced three times! What the devil could the Colonel h
ave been about? After all, he knew that requesting a woman’s hand to dance for a third time always gave a subtle and silent—but evident—signal to everyone that there was affection between the two of them. And Jane was not to be blamed for accepting his hand, for it was always highly improper for a woman to refuse an offer to dance, unless it meant that she did not wish to dance at all for the entire evening. Jane was therefore obliged. It was the Colonel who made the choice, and the weight of that choice was therefore entirely on his shoulders.

  Yet, my apprehensions for why this situation had come about was answered by my own theories. It was not a hard thing to determine his line of thought. Thrice they had been partners, and now the implication was set. Colonel Fitzwilliam was now sending a message, as clear to all, that he had sincere affection for Jane.

  He wished for all to know it. And now they did. Especially Mr. Bingley.

  And as if thoughts can summon flesh!

  For no sooner had I internally extrapolated on the matter, than Mr. Bingley approached me, for he had been passing by the area that I sat in.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” he began, with only a half-smile. “You are sitting down. I am shocked to find that a lady such as yourself lacks a partner at this time.”

  “You need not worry for my pride being wounded,” I replied, lightly, “nor do you need to worry about saving me by offering me your hand to dance. In truth, I am actually quite exhausted! It is remarkable. There was a time when I could dance every dance at a ball and not be fatigued. Yet, here I sit. I suppose I am not as young as I once was.”

  “No, you are younger,” he responded, and I smiled. “And since I am of your state, I wonder if you would be willing to withstand my company for a short duration.”

  “There is an empty seat next to me, and I would be perfectly amenable to you filling it.”

  “As witty as always.” He sat down beside me. “Now that we have time to speak, you cannot imagine the shock that I felt when seeing your company with Darcy. I felt as if a burst of heaven had filled my life and I was almost blinded by the light.”

  “We saw your surprise and it was precisely as we wished for it to be. Mr. Darcy did a great deal to keep our visit a secret from you, because he wished for you to take pleasure in the surprise.”

  “I confess, I never knew that he had it in him.”

  “I confess, that I was just as surprised in him as you are now. Both you and I could know him for years, and still not know him. But that is a good thing. It is best to always have something about one that keeps a person being surprising every now and again.”

  “Yes, it is a rare talent.”

  “Your sister’s coming was surprising as well. I am truly glad to see you both.”

  “As we are to see you.”

  There was a pause in our conversation—a pause that came about because he was staring intently at Jane. Then he tore his attention away from her just enough for him to speak to me.

  “The Colonel enjoys her as a dancing partner.”

  “My sister excels at dancing,” was all that I could think of for a reply. Indeed, this was a conversation that I so much did not desire to have.

  “Aye, she does. I never had a better partner than she. Yet, he dances with her three times as of now. Such an attention is usually a marked one. You would recall that I danced three times with her at Netherfield.”

  “I had not forgotten.”

  “Then I should thank the Colonel. For by his dancing with her three times, it allows others of us to do so without losing the better parts of discretion.”

  “Yes, perhaps it does.”

  Mr. Bingley was jealous, but perhaps he was so unused to the emotion that he did not even know he was in the middle of the sin. The poor man! Then again, in some ways, he did bring this fate down upon himself.

  Soon, the dance came to an end, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Jane bowed to each other, the Colonel took her hand and led her away from the dance floor. Jane was about to sit down as they were about to begin a conversation, when Mr. Bingley quickly left my side, dashed over to them, bowed to Jane, and requested her hand for the next set.

  From that spot, I could see each of their expressions.

  Jane was flushed with indecision, happy to accept, but also unhappy in the prospect of upsetting the Colonel.

  Mr. Bingley attempted to act as if the Colonel did not exist.

  The Colonel’s expression was clearly one of bitterness.

  Two men vying after the hand of the same woman.

  I cared not what anyone else felt about the matter; it was not a state to envy.

  The evening past in this manner, with half of our company miserable from jealousy, and the other half perfectly content. Yet, to my surprise, Kitty had the most joy out of the evening.

  “What a marvelous experience!” she proclaimed as we got into our carriage to leave…at one o’clock in the morning. “No one made us feel inferior! No one judged us for not being of the highest circles! Oh, the joys of being equal to everyone else.”

  Georgiana chuckled at her reaction. The rest of us were already half asleep, but we all did agree.

  Chapter 16

  Sisters!

  The next morning, we all woke up very late. Thank goodness we planned no morning or afternoon calls. Darcy arranged for us all to eat breakfast in our rooms, sensing that we needed a day to ourselves, and we were eternally grateful for it.

  Once I had dressed and felt most awake, I left my room to look in on Jane. As I was about to enter, Kitty emerged from her own room.

  “Lizzy?” Kitty said.

  “Morning, Kitty. Did you sleep well?”

  “Very well. You are going to see Jane?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, can you do me a favor and if she has any spare paper in her room, can she loan me some? And, sorry for putting you in this position, but if she does not have any, can you ask Mr. Darcy if he might trouble himself to loan me some? I would not request it if I didn’t need it.”

  “I shall ask him.”

  “Thank you.”

  She closed her door and disappeared.

  Thinking nothing of her request, I knocked on Jane’s door.

  “Who is it?” Jane asked.

  “Tis I,” I replied.

  “Come in, Lizzy!” Jane replied urgently.

  I opened the door and Jane was sitting and looking out of the window. In her lap was a book.

  “I came to see how you were,” I replied, closing the door.

  “I am well,” she answered.

  “You did not sound so just a second ago.” I closed the door behind me. “You sounded desperate.”

  Jane gazed at me then returned to look outside.

  “Yes, you are correct. There is no point in me hiding. After all, what is the point now? What is the point of anything?”

  This last sentence uttered was a pitiable one.

  “Jane,” I began, taking a seat right next to hers, “what does that mean?”

  Jane picked up the book in her lap.

  “I have been trying to read this for quite some time now, but I find that I cannot even focus on the words.” She closed the book and put it on the table. “Yesterday was supposed to be perfect, that’s all.”

  “Yet, it was not.”

  “No, it was not. I expected us all to gain some pleasure from it. An immeasurable amount. Of course, it was lovely, and do not mistake me. I did have a wonderful time. Mr. Darcy was delightful for getting us an invitation and Sir Aleck was a gracious and amiable host.”

  “Jane, I know that you enjoyed them, so we need not spend time talking about them. We can talk about what concerns you most. I know that you wish to speak about Mr. Bingley and the Colonel.”

  “I am being foolish, I know. For after all, my worries may be over nothing. For all that I know, neither man may truly care for me, so my anxieties perhaps are ill founded.”

  “If you are worried that both men are in love with you at the same time, then no, your anx
ieties are not ill founded,” I assured her. “And your judgment is accurate. Both men are in love with you. Both men want you to know it. Both men danced with you three times each at the ball. And yes, both men are aware that the other is in love with you, and neither likes it.”

  Jane pressed her palms against her skirt and looked down at the floor.

  “I did not want this sort of thing to ever occur. Especially on my behalf.”

  “You neither asked for it, nor caused it. Both men made their choice all on their own. So, how does this all make you feel?”

  She looked at me in total frustration. “So utterly overcome, nervous and fretful. I feel agony over the pain that both of them must be feeling. Indeed, I do wish to alleviate their woes and wish that they had never rested their eyes upon me.”

  “Do you really? For I know that you admire them and enjoy their company.”

  “But I would not be so selfish as to prefer my own comfort to theirs.”

  “It is fine to be selfish at this time. For only by hearing what your heart is telling you can you make the right decision.”

  “Lizzy, what am I to do now?”

  “What your heart is telling you. And if that is a voice that you do not wish to communicate with at this time, then let us listen to what your head is talking about. Pick a voice. Any voice! But do not give way to silence. Silence never achieves anything, despite what everyone tells you. Right now, both men are in a state of romantic pursuits, and competition between each other. Yet, let us assume that at some point, both men might make you an offer. How do you feel towards them?”

  “That is the hard thing, Lizzy. This is the hardest thing of all and I beg that you will believe me.”

  “I shall believe you.”

  “I care for them both. I like them both exceedingly. With Mr. Bingley, you know that I was always impressed with his liveliness, his gentle manners, and he is good humored.”

  “And the Colonel?”

 

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