A Beneficial, If Unwilling, Compromise

by Bronwen Chisholm

  “That was her plan until we saw the clouds gathering.” She smoothed her skirts, not meeting his eye.

  “Miss Bennet.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I had hoped for a moment alone with you.”

  She raised her head revealing a smile which lit her eyes with hope and nearly undid him. He reached out, taking her hand in his, but she withdrew it as she glanced toward her parents. Bingley followed and noted Mr. Bennet watching him closely. He was uncertain what to do.

  “Mr. Bingley,” Mr. Bennet called. “Would you join me in my book room? I have something I wish to discuss with you.” He glanced toward his eldest daughter and winked just before nodding his head.

  “Of course, sir.”

  Bingley followed the elder man out of the room. When they reached the book room, Mr. Bennet stopped as though he were waiting for something or someone. The door to the sitting room opened a moment later and Miss Bennet emerged. Mr. Bennet then opened the book room door and ushered the couple inside. He did not follow them, but kept one hand on the doorknob.

  “I will remain in the hall. Do not keep me waiting long.” Mr. Bennet closed the door, leaving Bingley and Miss Bennet alone. Both of them blushed.

  “Well,” Bingley tilted his head in hopes of loosening his collar. “I suppose Darcy was correct.”

  “About what?”

  The ridge between Miss Bennet’s brows crinkled and Bingley felt the urge to kiss the wrinkles away. Instead, he nervously cleared his throat.

  “Miss Bennet, you are aware of my attentions and I have stated my desire that we should wed. I accepted the challenges you placed before me and attempted to meet them. Though I realize I am not yet what you may desire in a husband, I would ask you to agree to be my wife as I fear I am unable to become what you wish without you at my side helping me along.” He swallowed and took a step closer to her. “Will you marry me, Jane?”

  Her blush deepened. “Oh, Charles, you are everything I desire in a husband. Yes. Yes, I will marry you.”

  “Truly? You are certain?” He reached out to take her hand in his.

  “I could not be more certain.” Tears shone in her eyes as her smile grew.

  Bingley leaned forward, his eyes upon her lips, but she stepped back.

  “Perhaps we should ask my father to join us.”

  Bingley cleared his throat, somewhat disappointed. “Of course.”

  “It is just,” Miss Bennet stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “He is most likely at the door and will enter if he no longer hears us.”

  As if on cue, the gentleman in question opened the door and stepped inside. “Well, Mr. Bingley, have I allowed you enough time?”

  Unable to hide his mirth, Bingley chuckled as he replied. “You have indeed, sir.”

  Mr. Bennet took his seat behind his desk and motioned for the couple to sit before him. They did, though Bingley moved his chair closer to Miss Bennet’s so he could reach out to touch her if he so wished. Mr. Bennet stared at them expectantly.

  “I have requested Miss Bennet to be my wife, and she has accepted me.” Bingley knew there was probably a more formal way to say this, and Darcy would have most likely been more elegant, but he finally had his heart’s desire and he felt the need not to delay longer. “Have we your blessing, sir?”

  A hearty laugh was his only response at first. “I must say it is about time.” Mr. Bennet turned toward his eldest daughter. “You are certain you wish to marry him, Jane?”

  Bingley nearly felt insulted but realized it was simply Mr. Bennet’s manner. Miss Bennet nodded as she smiled at him, and the injury was forgotten.

  “There was a time I would have said you were both so complying, that nothing would ever be resolved; so easy, that every servant would cheat you; and so generous, that you would always exceed your income. But, I believe you have both grown much in this last fortnight.

  “Jane, you have learned that everyone is not good and you should not trust blindly. Mr. Bingley, I believe you have gained strength of character. People may have once thought they could take advantage of you, but that time has passed.” Mr. Bennet nodded. “I have no doubt of your doing well together. You have my blessing, sir.”

  “Thank you.” Bingley leapt to his feet and extended a hand to his future father-in-law. “Thank you, sir.”

  Mr. Bennet stood and shook Bingley’s hand. “Jane, would you leave us? Go tell your mother the good news. I would speak to your young man a moment longer.”

  She quickly obeyed, closing the door behind her.

  “Please.” Mr. Bennet motioned toward the chair. “Have a seat. There is more we should discuss.” He returned to his seat and leaned back, steepling his fingers before him. “Has Darcy spoken to you of me?”

  Bingley frowned. “In what manner, sir?”

  The elder gentleman reached forward and picked up a book from his desk. Bingley recognized it as the one Darcy had purchased for Mr. Bennet. He was uncertain what the connection might be.

  “Darcy purchased this for me while in London. He was unaware that …” He smirked. “Let us say, I already had a copy.” He handed the book to Bingley and sat back in his seat. “You are aware of the letter which set us each upon our current paths?”

  Bingley nodded. “It led Mrs. Bennet to believe you were dying.”

  “Indeed.” Mr. Bennet chuckled. “I can only be glad she did not find the one explaining how to poison a spouse unbeknownst.”

  Bingley’s eyes opened wide, suddenly uncertain why Mr. Bennet would be receiving such information.

  The man guffawed. “Lordy, your face. Have no fear, young man; Mrs. Bennet is not in danger. I have a friend, a physician. He answers my questions from time to time.”

  Bingley closed his eyes and shook his head. “I do not understand, sir. Why would you need to know how to poison someone?”

  “Look at the book.”

  Bingley turned the book over, and then opened it to the title page. The name of the author caught his eye. “T. B. Gardiner? Is not Mrs. Bennet’s brother named Gardiner?”

  Mr. Bennet’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “He is, but he does not write. Though he has been known to pass on a few ideas from time to time. He is most handy in negotiations with publishers.”

  “T. B.? Thomas Bennet?” Bingley smiled. “You are a writer?”

  “I am, but you are now only the fifth to know it. The only reason I am telling you is because it affects your marriage settlement. I would appreciate it if you told no one.” Mr. Bennet leaned forward and folded his hands upon his desk.

  Bingley frowned. “Your daughters do not know?”

  “Certainly not! If Mrs. Bennet or the youngest were aware of it, everyone would know.”

  “You are asking me to keep something from my future wife. I am uncertain I can do so.” Bingley sat taller. “I dislike hiding things, most definitely from Miss Bennet.”

  Mr. Bennet’s features softened and he relaxed in his seat. “I believe you may call her Jane now, my boy.” He ran a finger over his lips, deep in thought. “You are not so very different from your friend. He also demanded I allow him to tell Lizzy. I will give you the same permission I gave to him. She may know once you are wed, but she must not speak of it to her mother or sisters.”

  “That is agreeable.” Mr. Bingley leaned forward. “But how does this affect the marriage settlement?”

  “Though no one has become rich as a writer, I have had Mr. Gardiner invest my earnings and they, in turn, have done quite well. Though Jane’s dowry is still nowhere near what I hoped it would be, it is more than it once was. I will provide you with the same information I gave Darcy.”

  Bingley nodded, distracted once more. “You said I am the fifth to know. May I ask who the others are?”

  “Why Gardiner and Darcy, of course; my brother, Philips as he is my solicitor, after all; and my friend who answers my bizarre questions. I believe it was the letter regarding stomach wounds when he demanded an explanation.”

  �
�Of course.” Bingley nodded. “Sir William …?”

  “Is as much a gossip as our wives.” Mr. Bennet shook his head. “Lucas is a good friend, but not a confidant. I have been able to use him in several novels, though. You must admit he is quite a character.”

  Bingley’s eager smile slipped. “Do you make a habit of using those around you in your stories?”

  Mr. Bennet laughed once more. “Have no fear, my son. I normally only choose the most ridiculous.”

  “I believe Miss Elizabeth would argue that we all have our moments where we might appear outrageous.”

  “So she would.” Mr. Bennet watched him, an odd expression upon his countenance. “And, I suppose, it is so. I can only say that you have not found your way into a story as of this time, sir. I will not promise it shall not happen in the future.”

  The men held each other’s suspicious gaze a moment longer before first one than the other broke down in unrestrained laughter. “Shall we rejoin the others?” Mr. Bennet asked while they wiped tears from their eyes.

  ***********

  The rain continued throughout the day and Mrs. Bennet was unable to make her visits. The fact that she had a second daughter and fiancé to parade about, but was unable to do so, was nearly insufferable. Bingley thought she handled it well, considering, but the silly woman he had initially met when he first arrived in Hertfordshire did raise her head once or twice.

  The gentlemen remained at Longbourn through dinner. When he and Darcy were finally ensconced in the carriage to return to Netherfield, Bingley reflected upon the day and the news that had been revealed. He was unable to see his friend clearly in the dark carriage, but knew him to be lost in thought also.

  “Darcy.” He waited for some acknowledgement which came in the form of a soft grunt. “What thought you when Mr. Bennet revealed that he is a writer?”

  A soft rumble disclosed his friend’s amusement. “I thought it quite illuminating.”

  Bingley chuckled. “I suppose it does explain quite a bit. Did he say how long he has been writing? How many books he has published?”

  “I believe he has been writing since he was a youth, but did not seek a publisher until recently. As I understand it, he has sold several novels and the publisher is requesting more.”

  Silence descended over them once more and Bingley relaxed into the squabs for a few minutes. “Have you any fear of becoming a character in one of his stories?”

  Darcy sighed. “I believe that none of us are safe from that fate. I read the book I purchased for him. I recognized several individuals in the neighbourhood, including those from within his own household. We are to be part of the family; our exploits will be happily shared. We can only pray that enough detail is changed so as not to expose us to society.”

  “You recognized them?” Bingley’s concern increased.

  “Only once I knew the identity of the author. Before that, I simply enjoyed the story and laughed at the individual foibles. He has a dry wit which reads well. His characters are flawed, but lovable.”

  “I can only imagine what material we have given him in the last fortnight,” Bingley muttered under his breath.

  Darcy’s rumbling laugh echoed in the dark. “True. I suspect we have doomed ourselves to immortality.”

  Curiosity suddenly overtook Bingley. “How did you read the book? Did you borrow it from him?”

  “No.” Darcy sounded almost sheepish. “I sent to London for another copy.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  EPILOGUE

  The sporadic hammering became louder as the study door opened, but was quickly muffled as it shut once more. Heavy footsteps moved across the carpeted floors and the springs of the closest chair squeaked as the individual dropped onto the cushions with a groan.

  Bingley finished the last page of the chapter he was reading before marking his place and closing the tome. He then laid the book upon his desk and laughed at his obviously tortured friend.

  “You will not be as amused when it is your wife,” Darcy muttered as he rubbed his forehead.

  “Why do you think we are undertaking this move now? I want Jane settled in our new home before she is so far along.”

  “At the expense of my wife’s health?”

  Darcy sounded cross, but Bingley knew he was merely worried. Rising from his seat, he retrieved two glasses and the bottle of brandy Mr. Gardiner had given him as a wedding gift. He poured a finger or two in each and handed one to his friend and brother.

  “You know Elizabeth will not do more than she is able. She is an active woman, as you are well aware. To make her sit and watch others would be cruel.” Bingley sipped the liquor, savouring the heady bouquet.

  Darcy stared into his glass but said nothing.

  “I expect the Bennets will be arriving shortly. Surely you do not want our father-in-law to see you in this manner. You will be fodder for his next story.” Bingley chuckled before taking another sip.

  “Is that his latest?” Darcy asked, pointing toward Bingley’s discarded novel.

  “Yes. I have just begun reading it.”

  “Then they have not yet attended the dinner?” Darcy’s eyes took on a mischievous gleam as Bingley felt a sinking sensation in his stomach.

  “No. What has he done?”

  Darcy laughed and drank his brandy. He shook his head, refusing to tell Bingley what was to come in the story. “Have you heard from Miss Bingley recently?”

  “I have not. Caroline is not speaking to me at the moment. My aunts tell me she arrived safely, but has not left her rooms since. That may be best for everyone until her anger abates.” He set his glass on the side table and picked up the book once more, skimming quickly over the bits of dialogue.

  “No,” Darcy admonished. “Do not read ahead. I apologize for mentioning it.”

  “But you did and now my curiosity is engaged.” His eyes flitted over the passing pages until he lit upon a line where dinner was being announced. Bingley took a seat near his friend and began reading silently.

  Darcy cleared his throat. “He did work it into the story quite well. I doubt many who had not been here would recognize it as your sister. Indeed, I may not have, had I not been present.” He finished his drink and set the glass on the table between them.

  Bingley shook his head. Before him, written in an exquisite satirical manner, was the Netherfield dinner party which nearly saw his sister on her way to Scarborough. The coincidence that she was now there following more manipulative schemes and unwelcome comments lent an added touch of irony to the story.

  “You are correct. I believe we recognize the scene because we know the author. I doubt even Sir William would descry it.” Bingley closed the book and laid it upon the table. “How is Elizabeth?”

  A warm smile spread across Darcy’s lips. “She is well.” He took a deep breath. “We are grateful to you and Jane for making this move at this time. She wants her sister at her side when she enters the last months of her confinement. That will be easier with you such a short distance away.”

  Bingley nodded. “We had hoped to be already there, but Mary’s wedding delayed our plans. Mrs. Bennet’s visits and advice have weighed upon Jane terribly. When she discovered she was with child, we thought it best to move before announcing it. Thank you, Darcy, for helping us conceal the secret.”

  “Think nothing of it, Bingley.” Darcy stood, taking up the glasses to refill them. “Now, what truly happened for Miss Bingley to be sent away? I thought she and Jane were becoming close companions.”

  “The wrong word at the wrong moment.”

  Bingley glanced out the window then back to his friend. “Has Elizabeth changed since she came with child?”

  “Changed? In what way?” Darcy asked as he handed Bingley his glass.

  “Her moods?” Bingley shrugged, uncertain how to describe his normally reserved wife’s bizarre behaviour.

  Darcy chuckled. “For the first few months, Elizabeth would cry over any small thing. I re
member having to console her when we watched a baby bird take flight for the first time.” He shook his head and sipped the brandy.

  “Was she … impatient? Short of temper?”

  “Bingley, do not make me speak ill of my wife.” Darcy leaned forward so he could see the door clearly, and then lowered his voice. “You are aware that Elizabeth is not known for her patience. Your wife, on the other hand, received an abundance of that quality.”

  Bingley took a sip and leaned back into the seat. “Perhaps she had at one time, but I fear those days have ended.”

  “Are you saying Jane sent Caroline away?” Darcy asked in amazement.

  “After the wedding. Apparently, my sister made a disparaging remark regarding John Lucas taking up a position with Mr. Philips. When Jane learned of it, she flew into a rage and demanded Caroline leave at once. Thank all that is good that it was early enough in the day to send her to London.” Bingley shook his head. “Jane cried in my arms that night, apologizing for her behaviour; but she refused to allow Caroline to return.”

  “No, it was probably for the best. You do not want anything that might upset her in the months to come, and Miss Bingley is not the sort to step lightly.”

  Bingley could hear the amusement in Darcy’s voice and it allowed him to relax somewhat. “At least I am no longer being pulled between the two. Even though I made it clear to Caroline that Jane was my first concern, she would wheedle to gain her own way. I was ready to send her to Scarborough after the month we spent in town last spring, but Jane told me I was being too severe. We came to a compromise after I convinced Hurst to allow Caroline to reside with them for a month.”

  “Then Jane was correct to evict Miss Bingley when she did. Forgive me, Bingley, but your sister has been given her fair share of second chances. If she has not reformed her ways, she must be made to pay the consequences.”

  “I do not disagree with you, Darcy. It was the manner in which Jane reacted which surprised me. If I were not a sane man, I would think sparks flew from her eyes and smoke billowed from her ears. I have never seen her in such a fit of … passion.”