by Jessie Lewis
“Never mind,” Mrs. Bennet replied, patting her hand. “Perhaps you could go to Pemberley next year and spend Christmas with her?”
Jane barked a harsh laugh. “I am sure that would please my husband no end!”
She regretted her outburst immediately. To no one other than Lady Ashby had she admitted the truth of Bingley’s inconstant affections, and her mother was the last person to whom she would have chosen to disclose it. Yet, Mrs. Bennet did not seem to be appalled by it, only mildly surprised.
“Oh dear. He still admires her, does he?”
“You knew he admired her?”
“I had an inkling, but I was sure it was a fleeting attachment. All men admire a comely figure, and goodness knows Lizzy has ever displayed hers better than you. But then, she had to learn, for she has not your looks.”
“How could you allow me to marry a man you knew had feelings for another?”
Mrs. Bennet sat back, looking offended. “Because, had I not, you would very likely not have been married at all! Though you are making such a muddle of it, I am beginning to think that might have been for the best.”
“Would that you had not imposed upon me to secure him with a well-aimed swoon then!”
Her mother looked genuinely bemused. “Is that how you ended in his arms on the sofa?”
“I should very much like to know that also.”
Jane’s heart pitched into her mouth, and her gaze snapped to the door, which had been closed moments before but was presently occupied by her observably appalled husband.
“You tell me now it was your design when you swooned that day to coerce me into marriage?”
“No, indeed!” Mrs. Bennet answered for her. “Only to encourage you.”
“Mama!”
“You swooned deliberately?”
“Well, I…you see…”
“Your hedging is rather a confirmation of it.”
“Perhaps I did, but only in panic, because you—”
“And you, madam?” Bingley exclaimed, turning to Mrs. Bennet. “Was it by design you brought Sir William into the room at that moment?”
“Indeed, it was not, sir!” she replied indignantly, and for a moment Jane thought she was vindicated. The moment quickly passed. “That was Mr. Bennet’s doing. He forced his way past me, knowing full well what he was interrupting.”
“Mama!”
“Pray leave us, Mrs, Bennet,” Bingley said, his voice cracking on the last word.
Mrs. Bennet flapped and blustered and attempted to set all to rights, but in the face of both Jane and Bingley’s resolute silence, she had no choice but to go.
“Charles?” Jane whispered into the supervening silence.
“What have you done?”
“It did not happen as my mother implied.”
“All of this might have been avoided, had I but known.”
She gasped. “Is that what you wish? That you could have avoided marrying me altogether? Is it that disagreeable to you?”
“Discovering I was duped into it has rather lessened my enjoyment of it, I must say.”
“No, you are wrong! It was never my intention that we should be discovered, but I was expecting your addresses. Instead, you seemed about to change your mind and leave me again. I thought you must still not comprehend my feelings!”
“I did not! How could I when you were so cold and reserved all the time?”
“Could you expect me to behave differently after you abandoned me so cruelly?”
Bingley ran both hands through his hair, grasping two fistfuls and squeezing his eyes shut. Releasing them abruptly, along with a gruff sigh, he took two strides towards her. “Yes, I left. It was ill done, and I have never apologised properly for it. But I came back! I braved the reproach of your friends and family to return and court you in the best way I knew how. And you barely spoke to me! The only person who ever showed any pleasure in my return was Lizzy.”
Jane lurched to her feet with a wordless cry. “Yes, Lizzy! Perfect, wonderful Lizzy! Why did you simply not marry her?”
“I would have, had you not come to the room where I awaited her and draped yourself all over me!”
It was not as shocking as it ought to be—only bitterly predictable. Had she not suspected all along he preferred Elizabeth? In retrospect, she supposed every other appalling consequence of his thwarted affections had been inevitable.
“Would that you had never come back,” she whispered. “I could have lived far better with the memory of a man I believed loved me for a few short months than endure a lifetime with a man who does not love me at all.” She dropped her face into her hands and burst into tears. For a while she could only sob, her distress heightened by Bingley’s continued silence. After a few minutes, he did speak, but his words, far from comforting her, cast her into a tumult of confusion and alarm.
“The same graceless independence and brazen coquetry of which you have ever accused her?”
Jane gasped and looked up. He was reading from her letter!
“Are you in the habit of exchanging insults about your sister with Lady Ashby?”
His expression was furious, yet his defending Elizabeth vexed Jane as nothing else could, curdling her dismay into righteous anger. “Better to say I am in the habit of commiserating with her.”
“Commiserating?”
“Yes!” she cried, wiping her tears away with the heel of her palm. “I know you will find this difficult to comprehend, but I am not alone in my aversion to her unending teasing and impertinence.”
Bingley gaped at her. “Are you out of your mind, maligning Lizzy to this woman? She is Darcy’s cousin!”
“Precisely!” She snatched the letter from him. “That is why she is as mortified by Lizzy’s behaviour as I am!”
The more she said, the angrier Bingley’s expression became. The angrier Bingley grew, the more indignant she became. “Think you any of Mr. Darcy’s family approves of her determined coquetry? Imagine their horror when they learnt what trouble her flirting has already brought about from Mr. Wickham and Mr. Greyson! I assure you they are far less impressed than you were by her efforts at Pemberley and even more dismayed to hear how she argues constantly with her husband! So you see, she is not as—”
He thrust his face towards hers, his eyes huge and his complexion flooded crimson. “Good God, that all came from you?”
She recoiled and fell silent, stunned by his ferocity though too angry herself to regret any of what she had said.
“What possessed you to write such things of your own sister?”
“It is all true!”
“How can you be so obtuse? True or not, everything you have ever whispered in that woman’s ear has now been spread over the whole of London! The Darcys are a laughing stock! I witnessed it myself when I was there in October—twisted versions of everything you just said, things only you could know—flung at Lizzy in contempt. I wondered then where it all began. Never could I have suspected it originated with my own wife!” He returned to clutching fistfuls of his hair. “They have been sunk into a scandal of your making, and Darcy is punishing Lizzy for it! You have made her the contempt of society and condemned her to her husband’s resentment and disdain. Damn you, Jane, you have ruined your sister’s marriage!”
“That seems just,” Jane cried, “for she has ruined mine! She has condemned me to my husband’s complete indifference! Why can you not care about my happiness half as much as you care about hers?”
“Still you accuse me thus?” he roared. “Upon my life, I forswore my own heart to preserve yours!”
Jane wilted in the face of his vehemence, dropping into the nearest seat and looking wordlessly upon his escalating fury.
“Ignorant as I was of your scheme to entrap me, I offered for you without
excuse or objection and have endeavoured ever since to make the best of the situation—to love you, if I could!”
She shook her head helplessly as he wound himself into a greater and greater pique.
“I may not always have done it well, and God knows you have not made it easy, but nonetheless, I have tried! My sacrifice was evidently in vain if you are as miserable as you say. So be it! I see no benefit to prolonging our mutual agony. Allow me to relieve both our suffering and leave!”
His pronouncement was so unexpected that it rendered Jane speechless. She uttered not a sound from that instant to the moment the door closed behind him—not while he informed her he would remove to his London townhouse directly, not while he informed her he meant to remain there for the foreseeable future, not while he forbade her from obtruding upon his seclusion with either letters or visits, and not while he informed her she ought to go about the business of being Mrs. Bingley in the same way she ever had—as though his being her husband bore no relevance to the situation whatsoever. He was gone before dinner.
By breakfast the next day, Mrs. Bennet had learnt of his decampment, returned to Netherfield, and said enough words to compensate for Jane’s want of them several times over. By the end of a week, Jane began to fear that, on this occasion, Bingley truly meant not to return.
***
Monday, 8 February 1813: Derbyshire
Elizabeth looked up from her breakfast as the door opened and tried not to appear impatient when her sister entered. She and Darcy both wished her good morning.
“Has Mr. Bingley been down yet?” Georgiana enquired as she seated herself at the table.
“Not yet,” Darcy replied.
“I do hope he is not ill.”
The door opened again, but it was only Maltravers with a letter just arrived for Elizabeth. She took it, feeling some apprehension upon perceiving her mother’s hand, for the previous two from that quarter had borne little in the way of good tidings. According to Mrs. Bennet, Bingley had removed to Town after a disagreement with Jane and had sworn never to return, leading to all manner of unpleasant rumours circulating about Meryton. Having witnessed first-hand the ugliness of Jane’s recent behaviour, Elizabeth and Darcy could not fault Bingley for wishing to escape it for a while, but they were nonetheless grieved by the apparent severity of their squabble.
Darcy had written to his friend, enquiring if there was aught they could do to assist. They had not heard a whisper in response until he appeared at their door the previous evening, unannounced and in a vast discomposure of spirits, begging that he be allowed to retire directly and promising to explain all in the morning. Thus, they were all on tenterhooks to hear what he had to say.
“He is not unwell. My man confirmed it with his this morning,” Darcy informed them, replacing his cup in its saucer and enquiring with a raised eyebrow and a nod as to the provenance of Elizabeth’s letter.
“Mama,” she informed him, breaking the seal. She very soon after refolded it and set it aside in disgust.
“What news?” Darcy enquired gently.
“My Uncle Gardiner called on Mr. Bingley and was told he was travelling here. My mother has dedicated three whole sides to her displeasure.”
“Nothing more about the nature of their disagreement?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Only a demand that we send him back directly.”
“Then we shall have to wait for Bingley to enlighten us. Regrettably, I can wait no longer. Peterson is expecting me at eleven.”
A quarter of an hour after Darcy’s departure when Bingley still had not appeared, Elizabeth encouraged her sister to attend to her pianoforte practice and went out for a walk—not five minutes into which, she came upon her errant houseguest. “Mr. Bingley! We thought you still abed.”
“Er, no, I beg you would forgive me, I…”
“Do not make yourself uncomfortable, I meant not to upbraid you. We were only concerned.”
He inclined his head but seemed no less ill at ease.
“I was about to walk around the lake. Will you join me?” He readily accepted, and as she hoped, the pursuit lost him a little of his awkwardness, though not enough to persuade him to speak. “You will have to satisfy my curiosity at some point, sir,” she said at length. “Are we ever to know why you have come?”
“I came to see you,” he said wretchedly. “I wished to see a friendly face.”
“I can understand that. I am glad you know you will always receive a friendly welcome from us, though I am exceedingly sorry you do not feel there would be one at Netherfield.” He looked glummer than ever. “Will you not tell me what it is that you and Jane have quarrelled about?”
He gave her a strange look, then sighed and frowned at the ground. “You.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank. No wonder Jane resented her still. “I thought you agreed to forgive her for what she did to me? She and I will never be able to forget it if you will not.”
“I did. At least, I endeavoured to, but something else has since come to light that I cannot forgive.” He looked at her, then away, several times. Then he removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Would that I could avoid speaking of it, for I know it will give you pain.”
“I am afraid you cannot escape speaking of it now.”
He shoved his hat back on and sighed deeply. “It cannot be avoided anyway. You need to know. But is there somewhere we might sit?”
“If I am to be vexed, I should rather keep walking.”
He looked uncertain, but since there were no seats in the vicinity, he had little choice but to acquiesce, and they walked on. She was glad of the activity when he eventually, and not very fluently, gave her to understand that Jane had been exposed as the source of every damning piece of gossip they had heard flying about London and regurgitated on Lady Catherine’s lips.
“I had not thought Jane so bad as this!” she cried, pain and fury hastening her steps. “Though I had supposed her to be resentful of my station, I did not suspect her of descending to such malicious revenge!”
“Pray take care!” Bingley cried. “I would not have you trip.”
She slowed a little, not for him, but because her baby had begun kicking as though in support of her indignation. She laid a hand on her stomach to soothe it.
“Are you well?” Bingley enquired in alarm.
“I am not unwell, but I am scarcely happy!”
He directed a pained grimace heavenward. “Lord, I cannot forgive her for wounding you thus, first with violence, now with calumny, for which you have suffered doubly, what with society’s disdain and Darcy’s.”
She frowned, bemused as to his meaning, until she recalled the last time they were in company. “If you are referring to our evening at the theatre, you must not concern yourself a moment longer. There was much talk, but Darcy’s overhearings at least were easily gainsaid. The matter is quite settled between us.”
“I am in awe of your forbearance, Lizzy.”
Supposing him to be resigned against resolving his dispute so easily, she regretted boasting of her own marital harmony, and though the circumstances were hardly comparable, she found herself saying, “Do not suppose yourself incapable of the same. Grievous though Jane’s indiscretions may be, they must not be allowed to come between you, not after all you endured to be together.”
He made a derisive sound and looked away. “All I endured, indeed!”
“When you were persuaded she did not love you, I meant.”
“I took your meaning, and had not your sister graciously informed me two weeks ago that she tricked me into marrying her, I might still have shared the opinion that such was the greatest injustice I have endured.”
Elizabeth stopped walking. “Sir, notwithstanding my present feelings towards her, that is still impossible to credit.”
> He shook his head slowly. “You will recall the attitude in which she and I were discovered the day we became engaged.”
“I could scarcely forget it.”
“It was not the happy celebration everybody took it to be.” He blew out his breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “Moments before that, Jane swooned, or so I thought. She fell in such a way as toppled us both to the sofa.”
Elizabeth made a noise of protest but he interrupted.
“She has admitted doing so by design. Then she…pardon me…then she kissed me.”
“Why would she do such a thing? And, pardon me, but why would you object?”
He appeared confused by this and abruptly turned away. “I like your method of walking off vexation. Might we continue?”
She consented, and they walked for two hundred yards at least in silence before he ventured to speak again.
“Your sister’s demeanour was altered when I returned to court her after Easter.” He paused to heave a heavy sigh. “What with all the other unpleasantness and distractions that occurred during those weeks, I…well, suffice to say that by June, I had begun to question my wishes. It seems she perceived my indecision and conspired with her mother to act. Mrs. Bennet has freely acknowledged our being interrupted at that moment was deliberate.”
“I do not recall that it happened in that way. My mother tried to prevent our going in.”
He looked unsure for a moment but then dismissed it. “It scarcely matters. By then, Jane had thrown herself upon me, and it was assumed by everybody that we had reached an understanding.”
“But why did you not explain the situation to my father? Or—very well, perhaps not him—but to Darcy.”
“I could not tell Darcy!” He seemed to regret his tone and in a calmer voice added, “Not even he could have extricated me without severely injuring your sister’s reputation. Or yours. Besides, I was not deficient in any feeling for your sister. I believed—I hoped—we might be content.” In a pitiable voice he concluded, “I knew not then how embittered she would become.”