“…my fondness for stating my own opinions.” Lizzy was well aware of her mother’s views on such matters. An intelligent, informed woman was as freakish as a two-headed calf. “Such a defect is as bad as having a wart on my nose. And if I am to get a husband, I must pretend not to have any opinions at all—at least not on anything of consequence.”
A woman with strong opinions greatly reduced her chance of “getting” a husband as a wife’s realm was hearth and home. Lizzy had no illusions that she was a Frances Burney or Caroline Herschel, but did being a wife and mother necessarily mean that your curiosity about the wider world must be suppressed?
“What if I signed an affidavit stating that I, Elizabeth Bennet, heretofore, will express no opinion on anything that does not pertain to the management of the home and nursery? Would that satisfy?”
“Please do that if you want to make yourself ridiculous.”
“Is not this whole affair ridiculous? Mr. Bingley could be a heathen or a drunkard or a philanderer, and, yet, we are all plotting ways to get invited to Mrs. Darlington’s card party so that he might choose one of us as his bride.” After thinking about it for a minute, Lizzy had to admit that despite the absurdity of the plot to “get” Mr. Bingley, she was intrigued by the man. “I would at least like to have a peek at Mr. Bingley as he may one day be my brother-in-law.”
Jane gave Lizzy a disapproving look. “Despite Mrs. Darlington’s best efforts, there is no indication that Mr. Bingley is in search of a wife.”
“I disagree. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”
Jane’s face softened, a look familiar to Lizzy. It usually preceded a confession of Jane’s hopes for the future.
“Lizzy, this may sound strange, but I may have already seen Mr. Bingley.”
“How? When?” Lizzy asked, sitting up straight.
“One afternoon, as Mary and I were walking near the White Hart, a gentleman came out—a very handsome gentleman—and when he saw us, he tipped his hat and smiled—a beautiful smile. Considering the timing and what we know of the gentleman, I think the man was Mr. Bingley.”
Lizzy agreed that it was likely. “And Mr. Bingley tipped his hat to you?”
“Well, at Mary and me.”
“Would that not be too funny if it were Mr. Bingley.” Lizzy clapped her hands in delight. “Jane, it is possible that you may have already made a conquest even before the card party.”
“But I thought the plan was for me to marry the elderly Mr. Darcy.”
“I have changed my mind. As I am known to speak my mind and, God forgive me, to have strong opinions, it would be better if I were married to someone who is deaf.”
* * *
Lizzy awoke feeling mischievous. If rumors proved accurate, today was the day Mr. Bingley would walk High Street in Meryton. In honor of the gentleman’s arrival, Lizzy thought she would tease Jane as a bit of morning entertainment, but when the sisters went into the dining room, they found only their father at table.
After greeting Papa, Lizzy suggested that Jane and she go into the village. “I am in need of some new ribbon and pins to dress my hair.”
Jane was suspicious of her sister’s motives as they had been in the village the previous day. “Does this have anything to do with Mr. Bingley’s anticipated arrival in Meryton?”
Their father put down his newspaper. “Oh, Mr. Bingley’s arrival is no longer anticipated. I saw the man this morning with my own two eyes. He was walking down High Street in search of riding gloves.”
“You saw Mr. Bingley?” a surprised Lizzy said. “How?”
“How did I get to the village? On foot, my dear.”
“Seriously, Papa. Why were you in the village? You go so rarely.”
“For the same reason your mother and three younger sisters are in the village as we speak. I wanted to get a look at the man whom your mother insists will someday be my son-in-law. For my part, this reconnoitering was a necessity. As the father of five unmarried daughters, it is imperative that Mr. Bingley choose one of my girls as his wife, especially with Mr. Collins breathing down our necks, threatening us with a visit in the near future. Extremis malis; extrema remedia.”
“Did you actually see Mr. Bingley or are you teasing?” an eager Jane asked.
“In the flesh, my dear girl. In the flesh.”
“Is the gentleman as handsome as has been reported.” Lizzy asked.
“I can testify that the man has all his limbs and teeth—he smiled at me as I went past.”
Jane was disappointed in her father’s abbreviated report.
“Jane, I can tell from your expression that I have let you down—too few details and too much sarcasm. But as it is your mother’s intention to throw you into the path of Mr. Bingley, then you must judge for yourself. I suggest you go into the village post haste as High Street is crowded with pretty young girls dressed in their best finery who are wearing a path in the street in front of the office of Mr. Morris in the hope of meeting Mr. Bingley.”
“I shall do no such thing,” Jane said, adding a shake of her head for emphasis. “I shall wait for Mama, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia to return as they will have news of Mr. Bingley.”
Lizzy disagreed with her older sister. She thought they should go as the whole affair was very nearly a farce, and she was eager to see it played out. “If the Bennets are to make fools of themselves, then let us do so as a family.”
“I think it unwise,” Jane said. “We will appear desperate.”
“That is because we are desperate.”
Mr. Bennet seconded Lizzy. “It is imperative that you go, Jane.”
“Imperative?”
“Yes, my dear. You see, your mother has put all her hopes in your basket, declaring you to be the savior of the family, and you cannot save us from Mr. Collins by sitting in the dining room in Longbourn.”
* * *
Lizzy’s prediction that High Street would be the scene of a procession of local lovelies proved accurate. There was not a girl over the age of thirteen or under the age of forty who was not wearing her best frock and bonnet, and the weather was perfect for such a display of fashion: cool, crisp autumn air with a few wisps of clouds illuminating the blue sky, a perfect frame for the colorful scene.
The two sisters had the good fortune to meet Charlotte Lucas who had news of Mr. Bingley. As predicted, the gentleman had arrived at Netherfield Park the previous evening. Earlier that morning, at Mrs. Darlington’s request, Charlotte’s father had accompanied Mr. Bingley on a tour of the manor, and where Sir William went, Lady Lucas followed. Lady Lucas, like Mrs. Bennet, lived to see her daughters well married, and Charlotte, now in her late twenties, was a constant source of worry for her mother as each passing year lessened her eldest daughter’s chance of finding a husband. In pursuit of said husband, Lady Lucas had insisted that Charlotte go to Netherfield Park as well.
“And what is your opinion of the gentleman?” Lizzy and Jane asked in unison.
“Mr. Bingley is perfectly amiable,” Charlotte said. “He admired everything he saw, so much so that I thought that if Mrs. Darlington raised his rent right then and there, he would not have objected so great was his praise. He also has a sense of humor.”
Charlotte described an embarrassing situation in which Mr. Bingley had been walking side-by-side with Sir William, but with a clever bit of maneuvering on the part of Lady Lucas, Charlotte had found herself walking alongside Mr. Bingley, with her parents following closely behind.
“The gentleman knew exactly what was happening, and he smiled to let me know that he had no objection to my mother’s obvious ploy to have us end up sharing a narrow hallway.”
It was Charlotte’s opinion that Mr. Bingley was thoroughly amused by all the fuss surrounding his arrival in Meryton and that he eagerly awaited Mrs. Darlington’s card party as he wished to make the acquaintance of the denizens of their small village. Charlotte cautioned that there
was a caveat: The lease remained unsigned.
“Apparently, Mr. Bingley will not move forward without the approval of his friend, Mr. Darcy.”
“Mr. Darcy?” Lizzy said as she furrowed her brow. “The older gentleman who supervised the repairs of the roof?”
Charlotte nodded. “Mr. Morris told Papa that the man spent the whole day on the property, inspecting every nook and cranny. It is no wonder that Mr. Bingley seeks his advice.”
Lizzy made a face as this was unwelcomed news. “It appears that our future is in the hands of a sexagenarian, a fusspot, who, I am told, uses an ear horn.”
“After learning of Mr. Darcy’s meticulous attention to detail, Mrs. Darlington said that she hoped that Mr. Darcy had found everything to his satisfaction during his own tour of the house.”
“And what did Mr. Bingley have to say to that?” Lizzy asked.
“It was an odd moment because Mr. Bingley started to laugh and said, ‘Ah, yes! Mr. Darcy. That gentleman will have his say.’”
Any further discussion was interrupted by the sighting of the gentleman in question. Mr. Bingley was attempting to make his way through a throng of greeters. Among those preventing his progress were Mrs. Bennet and her three youngest daughters. Upon seeing Mama, Jane turned away, but she had waited too long to make her escape as her mother had seen her.
“Jane! Jane!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Oh, Mr. Bingley, you must meet my Jane. You will be sorry if you do not as she is the prettiest girl in the shire.”
As their mother’s words lofted above the crush of people on High Street, Lizzy looked at her sister whose face flamed from embarrassment. It was then that Lydia and Kitty darted across the street, and after locking arms with Jane, dragged their eldest sister along with them. As the throng closed in around Jane and Bingley, like the Red Sea engulfing the pursuing Egyptians, Lizzy and Charlotte remained in place, watching a spectacle that rivaled the crowds that had once gathered around Samuel Johnson at Vauxhall Gardens to watch him eat.
“Jane will not be happy with this turn of events,” Lizzy said.
“If Jane is unhappy with your mother’s actions,” Charlotte said, “then I encourage you to remind her of how my mother embarrassed me this morning at Netherfield Park and how kind Mr. Bingley was despite my mother’s obvious plotting.”
Lizzy thanked Charlotte’s for her kind words, but she knew that this episode would not soon be forgotten. Jane’s fears of being humiliated had come true.
* * *
As Jane had been dragged across the street by Lydia and Kitty, now Jane was the one dragging Lizzy back to the safety of Longbourn. In her haste to leave the scene of her humiliation, Jane’s shoe had come off, and she had stopped to recover it only at Lizzy’s insistence, such was the need to reach the sanctuary of her home.
Once in their bedroom, Lizzy watched helplessly as the tears poured down Jane’s face and listened as her beloved sister declared that in her entire life, she had never suffered such degradation. After pushing through the crowd, her mother had cried, “Make way for Jane,” over and over, as if a royal princess had arrived in Meryton. She then firmly planted Jane in front of Mr. Bingley in such a way that the man had to address her or push past her.
All Lizzy’s efforts to comfort her sister were rejected as there had been additional indignities to endure.
“Do you know what Mama told Mr. Bingley?” Jane asked and then, in imitation of her mother’s high-pitched voice, repeated the offending lines: ‘I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. When she was only fifteen, there was a gentleman at my brother Gardiner’s in town, so much in love with her that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. However, he did not—perhaps he thought her too young—but he wrote some verses for her and very pretty they were.’”
Lizzy repeated Charlotte’s story of Lady Lucas’s attempts to ensnare Mr. Bingley for her daughter earlier in the day by moving the parties around as if they were pieces on a chessboard. When that attempt failed, she mentioned the crowd that had followed Mr. Bingley everywhere he went in Meryton. “All those mothers were out with their eligible daughters for the same purpose as Mama. Fortunately, Mr. Bingley saw the humor in it. He said as much to Charlotte.”
It was as if Lizzy had said nothing. Jane’s mind was firmly focused on her mother’s revelation that she had received verses from an admirer.
“I was fifteen when John Layton wrote me those verses, and since that time, there has been no one and no thing—no verses, no flowers, no overtures.” Jane looked at Lizzy with such pain that it brought tears to her eyes. “I am very nearly two and twenty, and if I do not marry soon, I shall be declared a spinster—worse than that—I shall have failed my family.”
“No, Jane! That is not true.”
“Is it not? Did not Papa say this morning that I am the savior of the Bennet family—that he is relying on me to rescue the family from the entail? But I ask you, Lizzy, if I am so very beautiful, then why has there been no one in the last six years? Why is my name not known in every corner of the shire if my beauty is incomparable? Why are men not standing in a line outside Papa’s study to ask for my hand? Why, Lizzy? Why?”
“You know the answer to that,” Lizzy said, her voice as soft as a whisper. “We have no dowry to tempt anyone.”
“If that is the case, then Mr. Bingley will not be tempted, either, now will he? It is not difficult to imagine that he would wish to marry a woman of some means. Certainly, Mr. Darcy, who, according to Mrs. Morris, owns half of Derbyshire, would encourage his friend to look for a woman who is his equal in society, which I clearly am not. I have neither money nor status.”
Jane retrieved a handkerchief from her drawer, and after drying her eyes, said that if she did receive an invitation to Mrs. Darlington’s card party that she would not go.
“Today, Mama made a fool of me in front of Mr. Bingley. But I shall not make a fool of myself, and that is exactly what I would be doing if I went to Mrs. Darlington’s card party. Mr. Bingley would see me for what I am: a desperate woman in search of a husband.”
* * *
Although Darcy’s preference would have been to remain at Pemberley, he missed the company of his sister, and so to London he went. After an evening spent listening to the tittle-tattle that Georgiana so enjoyed, he shared Flitter’s findings with regard to Netherfield Park. It appeared that the sole impediment to leasing the estate, other than the high rent, had nothing to do with the structures but, rather, a lack of society.
“But will Mr. Bingley care about such a thing?” Georgiana asked. “It is my opinion that Mr. Bingley is comfortable amongst all sorts of people.”
“Are you saying that I am not comfortable ‘amongst all sorts of people?’”
“Mr. Bingley’s purpose was to find an estate, near to London, where he could shoot and hunt and fish, and it appears he has succeeded. I am happy for him.”
The fact that Georgiana did not answer his question was not lost on her brother.
“Do you think I am too serious?”
Georgiana smiled.
“Why do you not answer?”
“I assumed it was a rhetorical question.”
“Then you do think I am too serious.”
“As you are in earnest, I shall answer you as honestly as I can.” Georgiana took a deep breath as she was about to speak on a subject that was painful to both brother and sister. “Before Ramsgate, before Wickham, you were less serious and frequently displayed a fine, somewhat pointed, wit. Since Wickham’s betrayal, you look at everyone with a good deal of suspicion—as if you can trust no one—and your wit, when you care to use it, has become all edge. There is no doubt Ramsgate has changed you.”
The analogy of an edge was perfect. For Darcy, any mention of Wickham’s name was like a cut from a knife, but when in Dover, one of the subjects he had discussed with Colonel Fitzwilliam was how best to move pa
st the trauma of Wickham’s treachery. In the days immediately following Wickham’s attempted seduction, Georgiana had said little, and Darcy found that he lacked the vocabulary of compassion. As he struggled for the right words to reassure his sister that all blame rested with her seducer, Georgiana withdrew into herself, but after weeks of contemplation, this girl, not yet sixteen, had emerged a stronger, more resilient young lady. Except for his physical presence, he had had no hand in her recovery, and as painful as it was to hear Wickham’s name mentioned, Colonel Fitzwilliam had convinced Darcy that it was important for Georgiana to be allowed to speak of what had happened that summer.
“Can you give me an example of the behavior you describe?” Darcy asked.
Georgiana referenced his treatment of Bingley’s sisters. “Although you have formed a deep and unexpected friendship, I might add, with Mr. Bingley, the courtesies you show him do not extend to his sisters. You actually bristle when you are in Louisa and Caroline’s company, that is, when you are not scowling. You regard them as parvenus.”
“Their father was a tradesman,” Darcy answered.
“As was Mr. Bingley’s father.”
“Bingley is a Cambridge man.”
“Caroline and Louisa are highly educated and accomplished, and I wish I could play the pianoforte as well as Louisa or sing as well as Caroline.”
Darcy grudgingly admitted that both of Bingley’s sisters had received a superior education and were accomplished musicians.
“I shall allow that Caroline and Louisa are new to society,” Georgiana continued, “but is that not also true of Mr. Bingley and the other sons of men of industry who are now appearing at social gatherings in London formerly barred to them? You have often said that it is these men of science and industry who will determine England’s future and its place in the world. Mr. Bingley’s father invented a better sailcloth. As a result of his success, his son is a wealthy man and is considered a gentleman. If Mr. Bingley is a gentleman, then it must follow that his sisters are ladies, no matter your dislike of Caroline and Louisa.”
The Bell Page 4