by Jann Rowland
Mrs. Bennet soon found her voice again, and she gathered Georgiana and Anne together and sat them near her, plying them with tea and cakes which had soon been delivered from Longbourn’s kitchens. Georgiana appeared almost shocked by the woman’s loud speaking and overly solicitous manner, but Darcy only shrugged when she looked at him, though he saw her look to Anne several times for guidance. For Anne’s part, she appeared to be no less than amused—no doubt she was considering her own mother, and comparing Mrs. Bennet with her. Of what her conclusions consisted, Darcy could not quite guess.
As for Bingley, he had not had eyes for anyone in the room other than Miss Bennet from the moment he walked in the room, and as the girl had reacted exactly as Darcy might have anticipated—with a bashful reticence and lowering of her eyes—for a moment, Bingley had almost seemed uncertain. Soon, however, they were speaking softly together, much as they ever had last autumn when Bingley had been in residence. Darcy had no doubt that this time, without the interference of other parties, their courtship would come to a quick and satisfying end.
Sensing the presence of another close by, Darcy turned to see Miss Elizabeth regarding him with solemn intensity.
“So, this was your meaning when you spoke this morning.”
“It was.”
It was several moments before she spoke again. “I will own to some surprise, sir. I had considered the possibility, but given how long it has been, I thought it unlikely he would return. How did you manage to bring it about?”
Darcy shook his head. “I did not ‘bring it about’ as you suggest; all I did was to inform Bingley of your sister’s presence in town and of my new understanding of her feelings, and encourage him to come to his own decision. His presence here is an indication of his continued admiration for your sister—nothing else.”
Again, Miss Elizabeth regarded him, as if attempting to puzzle him out. “Then I thank you for that, sir. I can imagine the mortification it must have caused you to make such a communication.”
And then she turned and walked away, greeting Anne and Georgiana and sitting close to them in conversation. It was not long before he realized that she was doing her best to blunt her mother’s effusions and her sometimes overbearing attentions. The friendship she was showing to Georgiana was threatening to melt his heart all over again.
“We are happy you have returned,” Mrs. Bennet was saying, drawing Bingley’s attention—unwillingly it seemed—away from Jane Bennet. “You are quite a dinner in our debt, Mr. Bingley. We should like to have you—and all your party of course—at any time convenient.”
“Though I echo your sentiments, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bennet, “I would caution you to ensure this invitation is dispatched quickly, for as you know, we shall not be in residence for long.”
It seemed that Darcy was not the only one who was surprised, as everyone in Darcy’s party was looking at Mr. Bennet with a mixture of uncertainty and confusion. Mr. Bennet, however, only returned it with his own brand of sardonic amusement.
“Oh!” cried Mrs. Bennet, but she seemed incapable of saying anything else. Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth looked at each other, and apparently concluding that neither of their parents were about to explain, Miss Elizabeth essayed to clear their confusion.
“You see, we are for Brighton this summer,” said she, the look that she directed at Darcy seeming apologetic.
“Yes, we are,” said Mr. Bennet. “The house is leased, and we are to depart in a matter of a few days. Thus, if you are to invite these fine people to be our guests for dinner, you had best be quick about it.”
Darcy could see the consideration in Mrs. Bennet’s eyes, as she glanced from her eldest to Bingley, and then back to her husband, and he knew that regardless of how Miss Bennet chose to behave, her mother was not anything less than mercenary. Though he loathed such attentions, he knew that she was no worse than many matchmaking mothers in London, and for much more reason.
“Well . . .” she stated, hesitating over her words. “Perhaps we were too hasty. It might be better . . .”
She trailed off, and all at once there was a broad response to her words: the two youngest sisters protested in a vehement fashion, Miss Kitty crying: “But, Mama!” while the youngest, with a sly glance at her sister, said: “Then I could stay with Mrs. Forster!”
Mr. Bennet, however, only shook his head. “I am afraid not, Mrs. Bennet. After all, was the scheme of summering in Brighton not one you championed? Besides, we have already leased the house—the money has been paid out, and shall not be returned. I am afraid we shall need to abide by our original plans.”
It was clear that Mrs. Bennet was not happy about it—not now that her daughter’s suitor was once again at hand—but she could do nothing else. Darcy attempted to catch Miss Elizabeth’s eye, wondering why she had not told him of their imminent departure, when he realized that she had had no reason to tell him. Darcy had not told her of Bingley’s arrival, leaving her with nothing more than a cryptic statement that he would be surprising her. It appeared their scheme to return to Hertfordshire was not destined to result in reuniting the lovers.
The Netherfield party stayed for some time after, but a pall was cast over them all.
Chapter XIX
“I could not have imagined that we would return to news that the Bennets were to quit Hertfordshire for the summer.”
It was not the first time Bingley had made the morose statement, and it was indicative of the mood of them all—even Georgiana and Anne were displaying a measure of dejection Darcy thought more than a little surprising. After all, Darcy was the one who was attempting to woo Miss Elizabeth. It seemed they had taken to her with more intensity than Darcy had thought.
Fitzwilliam, however, only shook his head and turned an exasperated eye on Bingley. “I will own that I cannot understand this glum attitude.”
Though generally a happy sort of person, Bingley only turned a sour look on Fitzwilliam. “I will wager you have never been in love, Colonel. Having lost her once, I am quite unwilling to lose her a second time, and before I have even attempted to once again gain her regard.” Bingley sighed. “But I suppose there is nothing for it but to wait until they return at the end of summer. Perhaps if I remain the entire time at Netherfield, I can show her my intention of making up for those months I have been away.
A snort from Fitzwilliam brought a scowl to Bingley’s face, but Fitzwilliam only ignored him. “What do you intend to do, Darcy?”
“Retire to Pemberley, perhaps? In the autumn, I could join Bingley here and we could conduct our wooing together.”
“Neither of you are thinking,” said Fitzwilliam shortly. “Would it not be better to go to Brighton yourselves? I imagine that a woman would hope that a man who admires her would be willing to pursue her.”
“Yes!” cried Georgiana, clapping her hands. “We should all go to Brighton!”
“Would that not be too forward?” asked Bingley. “Would Miss Bennet not think that I am chasing her?”
“I believe, my dear Bingley,” said Fitzwilliam, fixing him with a wry smile, “that it is exactly the kind of bold statement you need to make. You returning to Hertfordshire indicates your interest and intentions, and following her to Brighton will show that you are willing to extend yourself for her favor. Is it not a good impression to give her?”
“I suppose it is,” said Bingley slowly.
“It might be worthwhile at that,” mused Darcy. “It might take a little time to lease a house, so we would not arrive until after the Bennets are already there. But it is a good plan.”
“Again, you are not thinking properly, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam. “You do remember that my father owns a house in Brighton, do you not?”
The memory of that property—of which Darcy had previously forgotten—came into Darcy’s head again, and he grinned. “Can I presume that your father has not leased it out this summer?”
Fitzwilliam made a great show of considering the question. “The only way
to find out is to ask. I can tell you, however, that when he leased it to an acquaintance last year he was not happy with the man’s behavior while there. I believe it soured him, at least in the short term, against renting his properties out. If you were to request the use of the property, and if you mentioned why you wished for it, I cannot imagine that he would deny you.”
“And you must think of the benefits of courting your ladies in Brighton,” added Anne.
When Darcy looked at her, she understood the question on his countenance. “I do not doubt Mrs. Bennet will be distracted by the novelty of a holiday in Brighton, and will be less likely to dog your every step while you court your young lady. I would think that also holds true for you, Bingley, though Mrs. Bennet does already consider you to be a suitor, a position which Darcy clearly does not hold.”
Bingley grinned back at her, but Darcy could only mutter: “I doubt anything will put the woman off.”
“Perhaps not,” replied Anne. “But if that is not the case, then at least there are plenty of places in Brighton for a young man and a young woman to lose themselves, and as long as one of us is in attendance, I cannot imagine Mrs. Bennet would wish to scrutinize the situation much.”
“I believe she has you there, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam. “So, what do you think?”
“I believe I shall be happy to write the earl directly,” said Darcy.
They all laughed and Darcy retired to the escritoire to compose his letter. He sent it with an express rider—it would be best to be able to give the Bennets the information about their intention to accompany them as soon as possible.
The sound of lamentation rang through the house for the rest of the day, but for a change Mr. Bennet was firm, denying his wife’s attempts to induce him to reconsider their intention to journey to Brighton for the summer. While Elizabeth could well understand her father’s reasons for refusing to even consider the suggestion that they might not go, she could only wish that he would be firm in other circumstances. But nothing was to be done about it, and though Mrs. Bennet was not happy about the matter, she at least refrained from collapsing in a fit of nerves.
Dinner that night was slightly melancholy. Mrs. Bennet was mourning the loss of her daughter’s suitor so soon after he had returned, though she was heartened at the suggestion that Mr. Bingley would almost certainly take up his pursuit when they returned, since he had been so bold as to return to Netherfield. Elizabeth was sorry for her sister, knowing there were many more months of suspense in her future. As for Jane, Elizabeth was not quite certain of her sister’s feelings, for Jane was nothing less than a closed book.
Lydia and Kitty were, of course, unaffected, eager as they were to go to Brighton and partake in its imagined delights. And Mary did not care one way or the other, though Elizabeth thought her next younger sister was not opposed to the Brighton scheme. She had, however, inquired minutely of her father whether the house in which they were to live had a pianoforte, and when she heard that it did, she was satisfied.
After they all retired that night, Elizabeth knocked on Jane’s door, intent upon discovering her sister’s feelings for herself. The reticent creature in Jane, she knew, would not allow her to acknowledge the compliment Mr. Bingley had paid to her by returning. And while Elizabeth did not feel herself equal to informing Jane of everything she knew, Elizabeth thought she could at least bring her sister some comfort.
At Jane’s call, Elizabeth entered and closed the door behind her. Jane was seated at her vanity facing the mirror, though Elizabeth thought her sister was not seeing herself therein, so distant was her gaze. She had dressed in her nightgown and her hair had been braided for the night. Elizabeth thought it unlikely that they would be disturbed again that evening, especially since her mother’s lamentations had run their course and she had retired to her rooms.
“Lizzy,” said Jane by way of greeting. “I thought you might come tonight.”
“Of course I came, Jane,” said Elizabeth. “You know I would wish to know your feelings concerning our unexpected visitors today.”
“Truly, I am not affected, Lizzy,” said Jane, in seeming unconcern.
Regarding her sister with skepticism, Elizabeth moved into the room and sat on the bed. “Not affected by the return of the object of your affections? The man you have been pining after for the past six months?”
Jane threw a pained look at Elizabeth. “Should I be more like Lydia?” asked she, her words mild, despite her rebuke. “Or should I be more like Mama, showering the man with officious welcome, insisting he dine with us, then attempting to persuade our father to abandon the plans that she herself insisted upon?”
It was all Elizabeth could do not to gape at her sister. It was the most unforgiving speech Elizabeth had ever heard from Jane, and it was about their mother, no less!
“The truth is,” said Jane, rising from her chair and facing Elizabeth, “I cannot take the chance that Mr. Bingley will break my heart again. As you know, I was hurt when he went away, and my time in London was rendered less enjoyable by the actions of his sister.”
“I understand that, Jane,” said Elizabeth. She reached out a hand and grasped her sister’s, drawing away from the vanity to sit on the bed next to her. “I cannot fault you for being wary. But you know that you must give Mr. Bingley some encouragement. If he sees none, he will go away, and this time he will not return.”
The bed shifted as Jane pushed herself further onto it. “I do know this, Lizzy. But Mr. Bingley . . . Let us just say that he must prove himself to me this time. How can I accept him if I constantly fear that he will be fickle?”
There was nothing Elizabeth could do other than agree with Jane’s assessment. Though she had always suspected Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley’s sisters of preventing his return to Hertfordshire, it was an inescapable fact that it did not speak well to Mr. Bingley’s fortitude that he should allow himself to be so persuaded.
This Jane was unknown to her. Elizabeth would have thought that her sister would accept Mr. Bingley back without hesitation and without comment, so eager was she to see the best in others. Elizabeth was heartened by this new determination she heard in her sister’s voice, but she did not wish Jane to throw away this chance at happiness. It was right that she required his devotion and resolve; but she must not allow hurt feelings to induce her to set impossibly high standards for the man to meet.
“I understand your feelings, Jane,” said Elizabeth. “Only take care. I believe that a person would have to be blind to miss seeing the affection with which he still holds you.
“And I know you will say you need more than his affection,” said Elizabeth when Jane tried to interrupt. “You are completely correct. But be open with him, Jane—inform him of how he hurt you and demand better. I cannot help but think that the proper wife will teach him to be more determined.”
“You think that I am that person?” asked Jane, showing Elizabeth a little of her own impertinent amusement.
“I am convinced you can be that person, Jane. But I do not think you will need to encourage the man much. I believe he understands that he will have responsibilities as a married man.”
“Perhaps you are correct. But at the very least, he will need to wait until the end of summer, for we are for Brighton in only a few days.”
“Then that is a perfect test for him,” said Elizabeth in a cheerful tone. “If he is waiting here when we return, eager to renew his attentions to you, then you will know that he is in earnest.
“But you know, I would not be surprised if Mr. Bingley finds some way of being in your company before the end of summer.”
“I hope so, Lizzy,” said Jane. “I hope so.”
And with that Elizabeth was satisfied. Clearly, her sister was still in love with Mr. Bingley. She only needed confidence in his fortitude. If he showed that he was in earnest, Elizabeth thought there was no question of a happy outcome. If he did not, her sister was better without him.
In the end, Elizabeth’s words prove
d prophetic, though even she could not have imagined how quickly they would be proven.
Matters at Longbourn continued much as they had before the Netherfield party’s return, and the final preparations for their departure were being completed by their efficient staff. Mrs. Bennet still bemoaned the unhappy fate which had led Mr. Bingley to return to the neighborhood only days before the Bennets were scheduled to quit it. However, it did seem like Mrs. Bennet understood the reason why they could not alter their plans, so her complaints consisted more of railing against fate, rather than demanding they refrain from going. Elizabeth was certain that her mother was excited for their opportunity to travel, as Elizabeth understood the Bennets had rarely travelled further than London.
While all this was happening, Elizabeth felt certain that they had not seen the last of Mr. Bingley and his party before their departure. But though Elizabeth suspected that the man might make an appearance at Brighton some time before the end of the summer, even she had not predicted how quickly and easily their plans changed.
It was the very next day when their sitting-room was once again graced with the visitors from the neighboring estate. They arrived toward the end of visiting hours and were welcomed again with enthusiasm from Longbourn’s mistress, who took it as a good sign that they had come again so soon, and with calm composure from the eldest daughter, toward whom Mr. Bingley immediately directed his attention. They sat in this attitude for some time before the subject of Brighton arose.
“It is unfortunate you cannot join us in Brighton,” said Lydia to Georgiana. The three girls were sitting close together, and had apparently become fast friends, though Georgiana still carried a perpetual look of surprise about her, obviously due to the Bennet sisters’ loud and unrestrained ways. “We should have so much fun there, and I would introduce you to all the officers.