Darcy and the Accomplished Woman

by Linda Phelps

  “Take care, Mr. Longstreet,” said Caroline. “One might almost suspect you of jealousy.”

  “Not I,” said William, “I congratulate you on the progress you make toward winning his hand. He cannot take his eyes off you, but that is in no way remarkable. As always, you are the most stylish woman in this room, so I cannot fault him. Your clothes look as if they come from Paris, which no doubt they will once you have access to his fortune.”

  “That is a silly thing to say,” said Caroline. “If I were seeking an attachment with Mr. Darcy, it would be the result of my sincere admiration for his character. His money is of no importance to me.”

  “Then I will beg your pardon for my mistake. Perhaps I have misinterpreted your attentions to the man. Still, he is a fine choice, much better than my brother.”

  “Your brother was never my choice,” said Caroline. “We were friends. As for Mr. Darcy, he stays with us in Netherfield. Of course I am attentive to him.”

  “The ladies in town are anxious for news of your attentions. They have been curious for years to learn the name of the woman who will become Mrs. Darcy. I will mention your apparent intimacy when I describe the gown you wear tonight and the beauties of this ball room. I remember you do not wish me to praise your person, no matter how handsome you may look on a special occasion such as this.”

  “Pray be silent, then,” said Caroline.

  As he had obeyed her request that he speak, he at once obeyed her request to be silent. Now she could hear comments from those watching the dancing while seated on the chairs that lined the ballroom

  “They make an attractive couple, do they not?”

  “She and her sister are both quite pleasant to see. Their clothes and their adornments are perfectly chosen.”

  “And how gracefully they move. It almost makes me wish I were a girl again.”

  Caroline glanced at William to see if he had heard these praises. Her mood had instantly elevated to the point where she recalled her duties as a hostess.

  “What think you of the ladies here? Do you consider any of them to be particularly handsome in appearance? I would be pleased to make an introduction to whomever you wish.”

  “They are a lively and attractive group,” said he, and lifting his gaze to her headdress he breathed deeply and said, “but none of them can compare to you in beauty and elegance. I am reminded of the first ball you were allowed to attend. You were dressed in just such a shade of rose, and your hair was dressed. It was the first time I had the pleasure of knowing how you looked as a woman, rather than a little girl”

  “Mr. Longstreet, you forget yourself,” Caroline said, with a hint of sharpness. However she was not displeased. “Now look about and tell me to whom you wish an introduction.”

  “I like the appearance of the woman dancing with Mr. Darcy,” he said.

  Caroline followed his eye. There was Mr. Darcy, and his partner was—Elizabeth Bennet! How could that have come about? She began to think of words with which to tease him when the ball had ended.

  Again she heard the hum of voices from those watching the dancing.

  “It’s a pairing I never expected to see. Didn’t Lizzy say that he was the last man on earth she with whom she would ever wish to dance?”

  “Mrs. Bennet refers to him as that odious man.”

  “I would not be so calm if it were my daughter dancing with someone so arrogant.”

  “Now I pray you to recall that his superior station in life will bring forgiveness for his manners. You wait and see.”

  “They do make a handsome couple.”

  “I’m afraid poor Lizzy will be teased about this dance.”

  “I’m anxious to discover how it came about. We all know what he thinks of her appearance. I would hope my daughter would refuse any offer from such a man.”

  These words distracted Caroline to the point where she could scarcely concentrate on the dance. What did they mean?

  “Miss Bingley,” said William, “should you perhaps take a chair while I procure you something to drink? You seem unwell.”

  “I am perfectly well, thank you, Mr. Longstreet, but perhaps I could do with a brief rest. Please take me back to my sister.”

  Louisa, looking overheated after dancing with her husband whose style might best be commended for its robustness, welcomed Caroline. She beckoned to Bingley and Jane Bennet who joined them. “Miss Bennet, I wish to introduce our friend, William Longstreet to you. He is a stranger here. On his behalf I ask you to find a place for him on your dance schedule.”

  “Most willingly,” said Jane Bennet. The new couple, accompanied by Bingley, wandered to a corner of the dance floor to arrange matters.

  “Well done, Sister,” said Caroline.

  “I suppose you see the odd pairing that is late the focus of all eyes,” said Louisa, fanning herself.

  “However did it come about? I am all curiosity.”

  “Eliza was sitting with her friend, the daughter of Sir William, and Darcy bowed before her. She nodded and he left until the music started again.”

  “Curious. Do you suppose he felt a duty to her, since we had shared some evenings when she stayed at Netherfield?” said Caroline.

  “Or perhaps he plans to honour all five of the daughters in this fashion,” said Louisa. This idea made them both laugh. Darcy had said that he did not fancy dancing with young women who were not desired as partners by other men.

  “Surely she placed herself so that he could not avoid seeing her, and once he had greeted her, he felt obliged to offer her a dance,” said Caroline. “She displays a certain shamelessness about such things.”

  “None of the Bennets demonstrates a desire to avoid the eye of the public.”

  The sisters, less obviously but with equal concentration, entered into the chief occupation of the dowagers who sat lining the dance floor. All followed Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet with their eyes.

  “See how she flirts!” said Caroline, “smiling up at him when she takes his arm. Darcy detests this sort of display; do you suppose he understands that dancing with Eliza Bennet makes him a spectacle?”

  “Perhaps his enjoyment of her ‘fine eyes’ makes him unconscious of his audience,” said Louisa.

  “He would do better to dance with Jane Bennet. Charles needs a reminder that he does not own the girl,”

  “Does he not?” said Louisa. “I wonder.”

  “What can Lizzy have said to Darcy?” whispered Caroline. “See, his face is red as if he is angry.”

  “Something outrageous, no doubt. You know how she prides herself on speaking her mind.”

  “I wager he regrets his choice now.”

  “And here is Sir William Lucas,” said Caroline. “Does he never leave the stage?”

  “Whatever he has just spoken does not please Darcy. Look at him.”

  The dancers scattered as the music stopped.

  “I believe I must remind Miss Elizabeth Bennet of her place,” said Caroline. She walked to where the girl sat. “So, Miss Eliza. I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham. Your sister has been talking about him and asking a thousand question, but I find that the young man forgot to tell you that he was the son of old Wickham who was old Mr. Darcy’s steward.”

  Elizabeth looked at her with curiosity. “And you impart this intelligence to me because--?”

  “To warn you. Let me recommend you, as a friend, not to give implicit confidence to all his assertions. I suppose he has told you that Mr. Darcy used him ill, but that is false. On the contrary, Mr. Darcy has always been remarkably kind to him, although George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner.”

  Elizabeth looked at her sharply. “Since you will discuss this, in what way did Mr. Wickham treat Mr. Darcy infamously?”

  Caroline took a breath, maintaining control of her temper. This Eliza Bennet seemed always to argue with what she said. It was a sign of her ill-breeding. “I do not know the particulars, but I know very well that Mr. Darcy is
not in the least to blame. My brother felt obliged to invite Wickham to this ball along with the other officers, but he was not so insolent as to attend.”

  Elizabeth glanced around the room, as if avoiding Caroline’s face.

  “I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this discovery of your favourite’s guilt, but really, considering his descent, one could not expect much better.”

  “His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same,” said Elizabeth angrily, “for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy’s steward, and of that, I can assure you, he informed me himself.”

  “I beg your pardon,” replied Caroline, turning away with a sneer. “Excuse my interference. It was kindly meant.”

  She joined Mr. Darcy, only to have him accosted by the tall Bennet cousin who bowed and said, “I must apologize for this intrusion, but I felt in incumbent upon me to introduce myself, I am the rector of Rosings Parish, where, Mr. Darcy, I am happy to report, I left your Aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, in splendid health and spirits not two days ago. Lady Catherine has been kind enough—”

  Mr. Darcy, astonished to be approached, in this manner, glanced to Caroline and said slowly, “I thank you for that intelligence, sir.”

  Mr. Collins embarked upon a second speech, but Mr. Darcy quickly excused himself and led Caroline away. “How extraordinary,” said he.

  “Mr. Bennet’s cousin,” said Caroline. “I believe I see a resemblance.”

  “I do not. Do you observe Mr. Bennet?” asked Darcy. “I suspect that he takes pleasure in laughing at his cousin, and perhaps at many others who are here tonight.”

  “His own daughters are suitable figures for ridicule, if one enjoys the flaws of one’s neighbours.” She saw the look on Darcy’s face. “You don’t suggest he is finding humour in any of us, do you? It would be impossible to do so.”

  “I have felt his eye upon me more than once,” said Darcy. “I believe he is not intimidated by the grandeur of his host and hostesses and their significant friend. He may even be amused.”

  “Oh, Mr. Darcy,” said Louisa. “How could he dare?”

  “It is a Bennet weakness,” said Caroline. “One and all they seem unaware of the ways of polite society.”

  Louisa excused herself to speak to a newly arrived guest.

  “I have something to say to you,” said Mr. Darcy, looking about to see if he was heard, “although I would not want Charles to know of my words. He leaves for town in the early morning, does he not? May I impose on you to speak with me after the ball? ”

  “Of course,” said Caroline. Her heart was beating so powerfully she feared he could see it. Was he going to propose?

  The guests were called to supper. The dancers went willingly after their exertions, while the sedentary people welcomed the chance to sit in company with each other. After a swift inspection of the refreshments, Caroline sank gracefully into a chair, surrounded by her family and friends from London. To her dismay, Darcy had been outmaneuvered by some of the local folk and was seated where speaking with him was out of the question. Hoping to catch his eye, she sent a servant to him with a glass of wine. He smiled and raised it to her. She attempted to convey with her expression the sympathy she felt for his plight, but she could not keep his attention.

  Caroline watched Darcy stare at his plate, while the colour rose from his neck to his cheeks. The hand that held his fork was clenched into a fist. He was listening to the conversation at his end of the table, and it did not please him. She could scarcely wait for the ball to end so she could hear him speak of what he had so annoyed him..

  The tables were cleared, the dancing resumed, and in time the guests began to depart. Caroline and her sister and brother resumed the positions they had held in the beginning of the evening to receive thanks from their guests. Just when Caroline felt she could not stand on her tired feet for another minute, Darcy approached and drew her off.

  “I must speak to you,” said he.

  This was the moment. In her mind she cursed every Bennet who lived or would ever live. “You see how I am fixed,” said she, gesturing to the entry hall, empty now of all but the one family. “Their carriage is late.”

  Darcy acknowledged the duty she had as hostess to stay with her guests. He nodded meaningfully at Jane Bennet and Bingley who stood apart from the others and spoke only to each other.

  Caroline and Mrs. Hurst had given up the pretense that they were enjoying their guests. The long evening had fatigued them both. They ignored the attempts at conversation initiated by various Bennets. Mrs. Bennet could not praise the music, the food, the dancing, or the women’s dresses enough to get a response. When her energies flagged, the tall cousin, a Mr. Collins they had learned, filled the silence with his own plaudits. It was almost impossible to pretend to listen and to smile at his compliments.

  “Lord, how tired I am!” exclaimed Lydia Bennet. She accompanied her word with a wide, audible yawn, only brought to herself by Elizabeth grabbing her arm.

  At length the carriage was announced, and with Mrs. Bennet’s invitations to them all to come to Longbourn, the family finally had the house to themselves.

  Bingley re-entered the house. He had personally seen the Bennet carriage on its way. “You remember, Sisters, that I will be off early for London.”

  “Yes. Don’t expect me to come down to see you off.”

  “No indeed. You must all sleep as late as you please. As for myself, I feel quite invigorated by tonight’s entertainments.” To prove his point, he climbed the staircase with great energy.

  “Well, Mr. Darcy,” said Louisa “Whatever you wish to tell me, can it not wait until morning?” She yawned with all the intensity that Lydia Bennet had earlier brought to the action.

  Caroline waited for Mr. Darcy to ask to speak to her privately, but he did not. The group began to make its way up the staircase, which seemed at this hour to be longer and steeper than it ever had before.

  Miss Bingley’s Journal (Netherfield)

  I do not remember ever being this fatigued after a ball, but of course this was the first that I ever prepared myself. I will write details tomorrow, but for tonight, I know only that Darcy has some words he wishes to impart to me in private. Tired as I am, I wonder if I will sleep, thinking about what he might say.

  At a late hour the sisters met in the breakfast parlour. Darcy sat at table, reading a book. The usual morning pleasantries were exchanged before the conversation turned to the ball.

  “How peaceful Netherfield seems now that we have it to ourselves again,” said Louisa.

  “Our sacrifices were to a purpose. I believe it was the finest ball ever seen in this part of the county,” said Caroline.

  “We were wise to send to town for musicians,” said Louisa. “I understand the music at the Assembly Ball was provided by local people, and although their playing was adequate, it takes London to prepare men for such an endeavour. I’m sure that at this very moment the local people are discussing how superior their playing was to anything that was played in this county before.”

  “Certainly the refreshments were of a quality not likely to have been seen in this neighbourhood,” said Caroline.

  “In all, it was quite a successful evening, one the local people will remember for the rest of their lives,” said Louisa.

  “They will remember it for other reasons,” said Darcy.

  “Why Mr. Darcy, whatever do you mean?” asked Caroline.

  “They will remember it as the night when Charles Bingley made his affections towards Jane Bennet so well known that he might as well have offered her his hand. All of them believe he has tendered her a proposal.”

  The women exclaimed. “Proposal?”

  “The neighbourhood twitters in anticipation of their wedding,” said Darcy.

  “I had not realized things had progressed to this state,” said Louisa. “Jane Bennet is a sweet girl, but hardly the sort I would want for a sister.”

  “No ind
eed!” cried Caroline. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, are you sure of what you say?”

  “Sir William himself informed me of neighbourhood’s expectations. All the parish is looking forward to the ‘happy event’ and the likelihood of more balls at Netherfield.”

  “But surely Jane Bennet and her family must realize the impossibility of such an alliance,” said Caroline. “It would be unseemly for us to accept such a creature, however sweet, into our family.”

  “I was so unfortunate as to be seated at dinner near Mrs. Bennet and her friend, Lady Lucas. So intent was Mrs. Bennet on congratulating herself on the happiness she expected from such a marriage, that she scarcely found time to drink her coffee.

  “And no one said, ‘But Mrs. Bennet, such a marriage seems very unlikely. The differences in rank alone would forbid it.’?” said Louisa. Darcy shook his head.

  The three gazed at each other over the breakfast table.

  “I believe Jane Bennet would have my brother if she could,” said Caroline. “He does seem to feel a certain amiability toward her, and she will do all she can to take advantage of that fact.

  “He cares no more for her than he has cared for several others,” said Darcy. “But I believe you feel that such a marriage would be a true calamity. I feel it myself. The girl would not be entirely unsuitable if not for her family who would disgrace her at every turn.”

  “But she has no dowry!” exclaimed Louisa. “I should have been ashamed to have accepted Mr. Hurst’s offer if I had not a handsome portion to add to my charms. What can Miss Bennet be thinking?”

  “She is thinking of marrying above her station!” cried Caroline. “She has charmed Charles with her serenity and beauty. She well knows what she is about,”

  “But Sister, I pray you think on this. What if Jane Bennet feels actual affection for our brother? And he for her.”

  “I have observed the lady of late,” said Darcy. “I do not doubt that she prefers his company to that of any of the local men, which is not surprising, but I see no sign of true attachment on her side.”