by Jann Rowland
“Many of them I have.”
“Then I believe I have found the secret to your preferences, sir. There must be many with whom you have long been acquainted. I am certain they wait breathlessly for your attentions.”
It was a lull in the dancing, the musicians having departed for a well-earned break, and Clara, who had been standing not far away, with Fiona, Deborah, and Erica in attendance, turned to Elizabeth. “That woman is your sister’s new sister?”
“Caroline Bingley,” said Elizabeth. “Mr. Bingley is Jane’s husband of about six months.”
“Your sister is everything that is proper and delightful,” said Clara, glancing at where Jane stood with her husband. Elizabeth could only agree, though Jane’s indifference persisted. “But Miss Bingley . . .”
Clara’s eyes swung back to Miss Bingley, and a hardness appeared in them, much as it often did when she was confronted by Miss Russell and Miss Campbell. “She appears to be cut from a different cloth.”
“Clara is only angry because Miss Bingley all but ignored her when they were introduced,” said Fiona.
“She was not much better to you,” rejoined Clara.
“No, but I was more willing to laugh at her rudeness. You took offense.”
“Laughing at Miss Bingley is the only way to endure her,” said Elizabeth. “If you think her behavior is wanting now, you should have observed her in Hertfordshire.”
“What is her background?” asked Deborah.
“She is the daughter of a tradesman,” said Elizabeth. “Her brother, Mr. Bingley, is leasing an estate near my father’s. I believe he means to purchase soon.”
“And her dowry?” asked Fiona.
“I have heard it said that she has twenty thousand pounds, and I dare say she can sniff the amount of dowry a lady possesses from one hundred paces.”
The ladies laughed, but Clara still seemed offended.
“Then what right does she have to be above her company? Look at the woman! She is practically draped over Mr. Darcy. Has she no shame?”
“All the right of having attended a fancy seminary,” said Elizabeth. “She seems to think that elevates her to the first circles. According to Mr. Darcy it has been ever thus. He has never given her a hint of encouragement, but she is determined.”
Erica, who had not yet spoken, said: “She was quite . . . insistent upon claiming my friendship.”
“That is because your dowry is more substantial than hers,” said Clara, throwing Erica an exasperated look. “For those of us with equal or less, she quite considers herself above us.”
At that moment, having disengaged himself from Miss Bingley, William approached the group of ladies and bowed to them. Elizabeth did not miss the slightly harried look around his eyes.
“Ladies, how do you do this evening?”
“Very well, Mr. Darcy,” said Deborah. “But you need not feign interest in us. We all know you have no eyes for anyone but our Lizzy.”
A burning started in Elizabeth’s cheeks, and she glared at Deborah, who only returned her displeasure with a cheeky grin. The other three ladies raised their hands to their mouths to stifle their laughter. For his part, William seemed startled, but then he grinned.
“Miss Bennet is quite charming, and I am happy she has been added to our society. But I moved this way to seek dance partners for the upcoming sets. Would you, Miss Grant, be willing to stand up with me for the next?”
“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” said Deborah, curtseying and throwing a look at Elizabeth.
“Excellent,” said William. Then he turned to Clara. “I believe I not danced with you either, Miss Burbage. Might I claim the set after?”
“I would be delighted, Mr. Darcy. I will accept your gesture as the compliment to Lizzy I know it to be.”
The girls all giggled again, and Elizabeth wondered if one could possibly die from mortification. Mr. Darcy only shook his head, amusement sparkling in his eyes, and he turned back to Elizabeth.
“Indeed, I would like to thank you, Miss Bennet, for providing me with these charming dance partners. I have already danced with Miss Allen and Miss MacDonald, and I am certain my future dances will be equally interesting.”
“I hardly think I am the reason they are so charming, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth, wondering what the man could possibly be about.
“No, that is all their own doing. But your presence has shown me what charming ladies they are, and furthermore, they are all willing to simply enjoy a dance between friends. I have you to thank for that.”
Bowing, Mr. Darcy grasped her hand and bestowed a lingering kiss on its back before he turned and walked away, Elizabeth watching him as he went. The back of her hand burned where his lips had seared into it. It could not be proper in a public forum such as this, but Elizabeth found herself wishing he had kissed her on the lips as he had done occasionally.
“Elizabeth,” said Clara, drawing her attention back to her friends.
With great difficulty, Elizabeth left of her contemplation off her fiancé and turned back to Clara, noting that her friend was sporting a wide grin. The other three ladies were no less amused.
“I believe it is time you told us the truth,” said Clara. She grasped Elizabeth’s arm and drew her to the side where there was a little open space and they were less likely to be overheard. “Mr. Darcy all but declared himself to you back there. You cannot simply treat it as if it was nothing.”
“Has Mr. Darcy proposed to you?” asked Deborah. By her side, Erica and Fiona stood, watching with interest.
If she could not trust her closest friends, Elizabeth decided she could not trust anyone. She nodded, saying: “He has. We—”
With a surprised grunt Elizabeth was cut off as Clara flew into her arms, embracing her tightly, with tears appearing in her eyes. The other ladies all crowded around them, voicing their congratulations, though with quiet comments, which were not less heart felt due to their reserve.
“Congratulations,” said Clara, fixing Elizabeth with a watery smile. “We have long suspected he would, but to hear it confirmed is wonderful.”
“You will be a very happy woman, Elizabeth,” added Erica. The others all chimed in with their own congratulations.
“But why has it not been announced?” asked Fiona.
“We decided to keep it a secret until my father’s blessing could be obtained,” said Elizabeth.
“But Mr. Bennet is here now,” said Deborah.
“Yes, but there are other factors of which I cannot speak at present. It will be announced before long, but for the present I ask you to keep this confidence.”
“Of course,” declared Clara. “We are only happy you have chosen to share it with us. You shall remain in the neighborhood! I am so pleased we shall remain friends!”
“This is such a touching scene,” a voice interrupted their excitement, and as one, the ladies looked to see Miss Bingley watching them, her usual sneer displayed for all to see. “I see you have managed to pass yourself off with some degree of credit in this society, Eliza.”
“I have merely been myself, Caroline,” said Elizabeth.
“And a better friend and confidant one could not find,” said Erica, her look challenging Miss Bingley. It warmed Elizabeth’s heart to hear such a vigorous defense from a young lady who was usually quite reticent. “We have all grown to love Elizabeth in the time she has been here.”
“We would be distressed if she was to leave the neighborhood,” added Clara. “She has become an integral part of our society, and I know I speak for us all when I say that we are happy to have her with us.”
“Not all.” Two more ladies approached, and Elizabeth glanced at them, revealing them to be Miss Russell and Miss Campbell. “Some of us have more discerning tastes than to accept the likes of Miss Bennet into our society.”
“Oh, no one cares what you think, Hillary,” said Deborah, contempt winding its way through her voice.
&nbs
p; “You are only unhappy because Mr. Darcy chose to focus on Elizabeth,” added Fiona. “You are still smarting due to the knowledge of your own insignificance.”
Miss Russell’s countenance purpled in her anger, but Miss Bingley chose that moment to inject her own venom. “Then I fear you have all been grievously misled. She is no lady. She is nothing more than a hoyden with nothing more to recommend her than being an excellent walker. Why, I remember not long after we moved to my brother’s estate. Her sister had been dining with us, and our Eliza walked three miles in dirt and mud to attend to a sister who did not need her assistance. She was wild when she walked in, her petticoats six inches deep in mud!”
“To me it shows an admirable care for her sister,” replied Clara. “Any of us would give much for a sister for whom we possessed such love and devotion.”
“There was nothing wrong with my sister’s appearance that day.”
Jane stepped into their group and eyed Miss Bingley, and the creases in her forehead showed more displeasure for Miss Bingley than Elizabeth had ever seen her sister before display. “I was grateful to have her attendance, I assure you.”
“So would anyone be,” added Deborah. “And any of us would do likewise for a beloved sister.”
Miss Bingley shot a dark look at Jane, but Jane for once did not seem to be affected by her displeasure. Her countenance smoothed, and she did not say anything further, but she also seemed to be feeling a hint of annoyance at her new sister.
But Miss Bingley was angry, and angry people will often say things they know they ought not. Such was the woman’s pique that evening.
“I think perhaps you should all look to a woman’s background when making a judgment upon her. I have personal knowledge of Eliza’s ways, and these are exacerbated by a lack of education, an almost total disregard for propriety, and a want of common delicacy as to render her entirely unsuitable for polite company.”
Though Elizabeth was angry enough to flay this unpleasant woman with the edge of her tongue, she was interrupted by the sight of another joining them. The newcomer was none other than Lady Emily, and as she stepped up, she fixed them all with a disapproving glance.
“You are all making a scene,” said she, her voice faintly censorious.
Elizabeth looked up and caught sight of William, who stood some distance away, and she noted that many in the vicinity seemed to be watching with interest. She shook her head slightly at him, and rolled her eyes at Miss Bingley. He seemed to catch her meaning as he shook his head, but his vigilance never wavered.
“Miss Bennet,” continued Lady Emily, “perhaps you would do me the honor of introducing me to your friend?”
Though Elizabeth wanted to take the word “friend” and trample it underfoot, she readily agreed, though she wondered what mischief Lady Emily intended. The lady had no reason to be friendly to her, after all.
“Of course, Lady Emily. This is Miss Caroline Bingley, my sister’s new sister by marriage. And if I may, I would also like to present Mrs. Jane Bingley, my eldest sister who has lately married Miss Bingley’s brother. Caroline, Jane, this is Lady Emily Teasdale, daughter to the earl of Chesterfield and Mr. Darcy’s eastern neighbor.”
The ladies curtseyed to each other, but their responses could not be any more different. Lady Emily was her usual enigmatic self, and even Elizabeth, who had now known her for some months, did not know if she supported Miss Bingley or disdained her. Jane was calm and controlled, as was her wont, but her countenance did show a little wonder at being introduced to the daughter of an earl. For her part, Miss Bingley was looking like that cat who had got into the cream, as she clearly expected to be the closest of friends with the earl’s daughter. Her next words confirmed that supposition.
“It is, indeed, a pleasure to meet you, Lady Emily. I am certain we shall have much to speak of in the coming days, more so than other persons who are present.”
Though Miss Bingley obviously expected some sort of agreement from the lady, she was destined to be disappointed. Lady Emily only regarded her through lidded eyes, seemingly contemplating her. When she finally spoke, it was not to Miss Bingley.
“Miss Russell, Miss Campbell.” The ladies themselves replied with tolerable greetings, but having been acquainted with Lady Emily a little longer, they appeared to be more than a little apprehensive. “Jealousy is not an admirable attribute. You would do well to remember it, for those much higher in society than you might suffer from actions taken in anger.”
No one understood the second part of Lady Emily’s statement—other than Elizabeth, who knew Lady Emily spoke of herself—but the first part was clear to all. Miss Russell’s color rose and her mouth thinned in mutinous anger, but Lady Emily only looked back at her, the challenge evident in her gaze. Miss Campbell nudged Miss Russell and the woman’s defiance bled from her, though she still appeared cross.
Lady Emily’s eyes then returned to Miss Bingley, and the woman returned her gaze, less certain of herself than she had been a moment earlier. That nervousness seemed to increase the longer Lady Emily remained silent.
“I overheard what you said to Miss Bennet,” said Lady Emily at length. “Perhaps you would be wise to confine yourself to banal conversation while in an assembly room, for my words concerning jealousy apply to you as well. Miss Bennet has been in this neighborhood for some months now, and she is almost universally respected and liked. You have been here for a matter of days, and your performance tonight is not leaving a good impression.
“Furthermore,” continued Lady Emily, and this time the ice in her voice and disdain in her glare was unmistakable, “you would do well to remember that an education does not make one a sterling example of a well-bred woman. It takes much more, not the least of which includes kindness, thoughtfulness, charity, and many other exemplary virtues. I have seen none of these qualities in you.”
Then Lady Emily turned away from Miss Bingley as if she was of no consequence and smiled at Elizabeth. “I am happy to see you, Miss Bennet, and I would love to become better acquainted with your sister. Perhaps we might meet for tea sometime soon.”
“I would be happy to,” said Elizabeth, giving the woman a warm smile. It seemed she wished to make amends and put their past difficulties behind them, and Elizabeth was willing to do so, given her behavior at present.
“Excellent. I will send an invitation around.”
With one final glare at Miss Bingley, Lady Emily departed, leaving a quieter and much subdued group of ladies. Miss Russell and Miss Campbell soon left, though their injured glances at Elizabeth did not suggest they had learned anything, and Miss Bingley soon stalked off, her posture screaming her offense. With an unreadable look, Jane also walked away to join her husband, and could be seen in earnest conversation with him thereafter.
The other ladies stayed by Elizabeth’s side.
“Was that Lady Emily?” asked Fiona. “I have rarely heard her speak so much at once.”
“She can be quite pleasant,” replied Erica.
“But she is more often reserved,” said Clara. “It seems, Elizabeth, that you have won her approbation.”
“There is nothing the matter with her behavior,” replied Elizabeth. “I have counted her among my friends for some time now.”
And it was true, Elizabeth decided. Before Lady Emily had begun showing her jealousy, Elizabeth had considered her a friend. She was happy she would in the future as well, for she thought that the lady truly was estimable.
Chapter XXXII
Feeling better than she had in some time, Elizabeth, in Olivia’s company, went to Pemberley, eager to see her fiancé again and bask in the light of his presence. Of her sister, Elizabeth was feeling encouraged. Jane was at least showing emotion of late, especially the previous evening when she had engaged in a serious discussion with her husband after the confrontation with Miss Bingley. Of what that conversation consisted, she could not be certain, but the frequent glances Jane directed toward bo
th Elizabeth and Miss Bingley—who had stood to the side, offense written upon her brow—spoke volumes. Anything was better than Jane’s silence and indifference.
On their arrival, Elizabeth was informed of William’s absence due to some matter of the estate, and she resigned herself to Miss Bingley’s company. When she entered the room where the ladies sat, Elizabeth could feel the hostility in the air, and Miss Bingley’s gimlet eyes, staring at her, disdain flowing off her like a waterfall, told Elizabeth that they would not be long in each other’s company before sparks flew. Not far from Miss Bingley sat Georgiana and Jane, and though they were speaking quietly together, it was with a sense of hesitation. They too felt the tension in the room.
As soon as they arrived, Georgiana, clearly relieved to see them, claimed Olivia’s company for herself and led her away to the music room so they could practice together. The looks she cast behind her as they left, however, spoke to the depth of her betrayal, for she was clearly not sorry at all to be leaving the sisters with the unpleasant woman. Elizabeth could not blame her. Jane, who played only little, wished them well and then returned to her recent behavior, closed countenance and reserved demeanor, even with Elizabeth, with whom she had always been open. She was, however, watchful and attentive, which Elizabeth had not recently witnessed in her sister’s behavior.
Regardless, this time Elizabeth was not about to stand for it. She was determined to breach this wall of Jane’s and discover what had happened to her elder sister.
“Jane, Miss Bingley,” said she as she sat down with the two women. “How lovely it is to see you today.”
Miss Bingley did not even condescend to make a response. Jane, however, allowed a slight smile to reach her lips. Elizabeth attempted to ignore this incivility and proceeded to speak with her sister, not allowing silence to fall between them again. She spoke of nothing of consequence—the weather, the pleasure she had received from knowing her cousins better, some anecdote Charlotte had written of the neighborhood of Meryton, among other subjects. But though Jane did not say much in response, Elizabeth was determined and kept speaking with her sister. All the while, Miss Bingley sat to the side watching Elizabeth chatter.