The Companion

by Jann Rowland

  “I suppose I must thank you for your assistance, Miss de Bourgh,” said Jane. She was not prone to teasing as Elizabeth was, but in her words there was an arch quality of which Elizabeth could only approve. “For the first few moments after Mr. Bingley entered the room, I will own that I was considering punishments for you both, but as all has turned out well, I suppose I shall commute your sentences.”

  Anne laughed heartily, as did Elizabeth. “I wondered what your response would be. But I thought the arrival of Mr. Bingley, and what I thought would be his reaction, would more than drive out whatever displeasure you felt for me.”

  “But how did you know?” Jane’s eyes sought Elizabeth’s. “I had not thought my sister to be so little worthy of trust.”

  “If you will excuse Elizabeth,” said Anne, “it was largely my doing. I noticed that something was amiss in your manners when we first met, and I pulled the truth from Elizabeth. Being of the same mind as she with respect to Mr. Bingley’s likely feelings for you, we agreed we should give you both the opportunity to come to your own conclusions.” Anne waved off Jane’s next words. “I know you will say that I had never seen you in company before, but Miss Bingley’s desire to keep her brother from you was evident, proving her understanding of her brother’s affections matched Elizabeth’s.”

  “Then I must reiterate my thanks. I hope you are now content.”

  There was a hint of a challenge in Jane’s words, and Anne was happy to respond in the affirmative, as was Elizabeth. Contented with their replies, Jane moved the topic to Mr. Bingley’s coming the previous day, how he had declared his love and his intention to demonstrate his constancy, and had asked her for a courtship.

  “I almost expected him to propose,” said Jane, “and I was of two minds about whether I should accept him. There were . . . concerns, questions I am certain Elizabeth would be only too happy to share, should I ask her.”

  “Good for you, Jane!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “Mr. Bingley should not be afraid to show his regard for you, and you should not accept him until convinced of it.”

  “I am very happy for you, Jane,” interjected Georgiana. “I thought . . . Well, I was convinced that Miss Bingley wished to have me for a sister.” Georgiana shuddered to the amusement of them all. “I could never have accepted his proposal, should he have asked.”

  Though she had known of Miss Bingley’s falsehoods, still Jane was shocked at this admission. “You do not think Mr. Bingley would make a good husband?”

  “Oh, I believe he would make an excellent husband, Miss Bennet. But I am equally certain Miss Bingley would make a terrible sister-in-law!”

  For a moment, all three listening to her could not respond, so shocked were they that Georgiana would say such a thing. Then they all burst into laughter—even Jane—and were quickly joined by Georgiana, though hers might have been a little forced.

  “Perhaps I should reprimand you for speaking so of Miss Bingley,” chortled Anne, “but I am far too diverted to do so. Of more importance, I agree with you far too much!”

  Georgiana colored, but she beamed at her cousin. “I know that I should not speak so. But for as long as I have known her, Miss Bingley has praised me, my playing, my taste and judgment—odd, if you consider I was naught but thirteen when I made her acquaintance. And when she praised her brother, noted what a good husband he would make and how he seemed to regard me with such approval, I had the impression she was always on the verge of ordering my wedding clothes for me!”

  The ladies erupted in mirth anew, and they continued bantering for some time after. Suffice it to say that Miss Bingley, though they were not mean-spirited in speaking of her, was made to seem ridiculous, a designation Elizabeth thought more than earned.

  Two days after the dinner party, the four young ladies boarded a carriage to go shopping with Lady Susan for their evening attire—even Georgiana, who was not at all excited about the prospect of her future coming out, watched them wistfully, no doubt visions of beautiful evenings of wonder, the romance and excitement, catching her in their grip.

  Lady Susan was quite impressed by the selection of Mr. Gardiner’s stock of fabrics and told him so, displaying no haughtiness of a countess for a tradesman. For his part, Mr. Gardiner responded with pleasure and no improper deference, proving himself to be a gentleman of substance, even if he was a tradesman. The ladies did select two fabrics which pleased them, but they retired to Madam Fournier’s shop with the promise that Mr. Gardiner had made a delivery to her only a few days before, and that it was likely she would still have it among her stock.

  Madam Fournier’s shop was much as it ever was, but the deference the madam paid to Lady Susan was even in excess of what she had paid to Georgiana as the sister of a wealthy man. They had an agreeable time choosing patterns and colors, adding bits of fluff to their attire, debating over which colors suited whom the best. In the end, Elizabeth was pleased with her selection, though she refused to grant Lady Susan’s wish of paying for their purchases.

  “My uncle will pay for our gowns,” declared Elizabeth when the matter was raised once again by the countess. “I appreciate everything you have done for us and the assistance you have given us, but it is right that our uncle should cover our costs.”

  “I see you will not be persuaded,” replied Lady Susan. “I will retreat from the field, Miss Elizabeth, for I see you are determined to have your way.” Then Lady Susan looked on her with a softened expression. “However, I will insist upon treating you all at Gunter’s. Surely you cannot deny me such a small pleasure.”

  It was with a laugh that Elizabeth agreed and allowed the lady her way. They soon said their farewells to Madam Fournier and made their way to Gunter’s for their treats. It was during their time there, however, that Elizabeth was made aware of Lady Susan’s desire to speak with her alone, and Anne—Elizabeth could not have known how traitorous her friend would prove to be—aided her aunt by starting a conversation with Jane and Georgiana and diverting their attention away.

  “It seems, Miss Elizabeth, that you have been quite an influence on my nieces,” said Lady Susan. “Anne is almost unrecognizable, and Georgiana, though I will own I saw some improvement before I returned to my husband’s estate, seems to have more confidence and ability to speak.” She paused and chuckled. “Though I suppose it is possible that it is just the present company which encourages her.”

  “They are both delightful, and I have been fortunate to make their acquaintance,” replied Elizabeth. “I am sure I have done nothing especially noble.”

  “I heard of how you agreed to attend to Anne at the expense of your visit with your friend. I know of the friendship you offered to Anne, the way you patiently helped her to gain her independence, how you stood up to my sister in the face of her poor behavior.” Lady Susan paused and smiled. “If I was not aware that you truly do not think that you deserve such praise, I might accuse you of false modesty.”

  “Then let us simply say that I was happy to be a friend to Anne,” replied Elizabeth. She wondered if she should say what she thought next, but something moved her to candor. “I will own that I did not think much of her when I was first introduced, but I soon learned that impression was mistaken. Anne is as estimable a lady as I have ever met.”

  Lady Susan’s eyes found her niece and she nodded. “I understand what you are saying, Miss Bennet. I believe we all became accustomed to simply thinking there was not much depth to Anne. But we were all so mistaken, and it is humbling to know it took a stranger to our family to see and unlock it. The difference between Anne now and the way she was when I last saw her is nothing less than astonishing.”

  “I believe it is far more her doing than anything I have done,” replied Elizabeth, eager for the conversation to end. Lady Susan seemed to understand and accept this, though her next words were far more shocking.

  “Anne has, indeed, changed much, and much must be to her credit. Now, Miss Bennet, what I truly wished to disc
uss is Darcy’s obvious attraction to you.”

  Uneasy at the lady’s motives, Elizabeth could only say. “Mr. Darcy?”

  The look the lady directed at her would have cowed grown men. “Do not attempt to suggest you have not seen it. I have known him since he was a boy and am intimately familiar with his ways. I have never seen him look on a woman with such admiration, and I have only been in company with you both once!”

  “I am not unaware,” replied Elizabeth slowly, not certain how she should respond. “I understand it is not what you would wish. I know Mr. Darcy could have prospects which are far exceed that which I can offer him.”

  “Do you doubt your own value, Miss Elizabeth?”

  “I do not,” replied Elizabeth, irked at the suggestion. “I merely say the truth: I do not possess the material advantages that Mr. Darcy has a right to expect in a wife.”

  “Then I would ask you not to say such things.” Lady Susan watched her, a hint of steel in her gaze. “I have long known that Darcy would not be happy simply to marry a woman of fortune or one of standing, not if she was the daughter of the Duke of Devonshire himself. No, Darcy requires something more than that. And though you cannot give him certain benefits by your own admission, you can provide something more than all these things, for he requires a companion, a woman to love, who will love him in turn.”

  The countess’s gaze never wavered. “The question is, Miss Bennet, do you love him?”

  It was an impertinent question and in other circumstances Elizabeth would have decried it as such and refused to answer. His other aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, would have insulted her connections and fortune, never considering her compatibility with Mr. Darcy or the state of their mutual affections. But his uncle and aunt had proven themselves of a different sort. It was this knowledge, Lady Susan’s open concern for Mr. Darcy, which prompted her to speak.

  “I hardly know,” said Elizabeth, not knowing how his aunt would interpret her words.

  “Is he not a good man? Do you not think you will be happy with him?”

  “He is a good man. Whether I would be happy with him, I cannot yet say. It was not so long ago that my feelings for him were not positive at all, for various reasons. They have undergone a material change, but can they have changed so far so quickly? I am not certain, though my heart often tells me otherwise.”

  “He did not make a good initial impression?”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Anything but!”

  Using as few words as possible, as well as putting as lighthearted an interpretation on it as she could, Elizabeth told Lady Susan a little of Mr. Darcy’s behavior in Meryton. The lady, obviously intimately acquainted with Mr. Darcy as she was, only laughed and shook her head.

  “It has ever been thus,” said she. “Darcy has always been awkward and hesitant when first meeting people. He often appears to be giving insult, even when none has been intended.”

  “But once he comes to know you, he is much more at ease,” observed Elizabeth quietly.

  “Indeed,” replied Lady Susan. She was silent a moment before she continued once again. “Miss Elizabeth, you have mentioned those things that you lack, and I have countered with those in your favor. What you do not know is that in her life, Lady Anne Darcy was my closest friend. We knew each other as girls, had our coming out together, married within months of each other. We were inseparable.”

  Lady Susan fell silent, her mind seemed to be filled with little remembrances of a dear friend long since lost. Clearly the ache had dulled with the years, but it had never quite left her. Elizabeth could understand it quite well—she had been quite close to her grandmother before the elderly lady had passed away, and the pain of loss had never quite left her.

  “Let me inform you that Darcy’s mother wished for her son to be happy, in whatever way most suited him,” continued the lady at length. “As he was still a young boy when she passed, I am not certain that she had thought much of his marriage, or any other such weighty subjects. But in the time she had, she was beloved of her husband, a sentiment she returned, and she raised him to be a good man, but also to be as happy as life will allow.

  “In all honesty, I think that Darcy has forgotten much of the second part of Lady Anne’s life lessons. It is clear, however, that meeting you has rekindled that desire to find a lady who did not see him as a conquest first and foremost. In you, he has found a woman he believes can make him happy. I could wish for nothing more for him. So you see, I am not opposed to his attentions to you—far from it, in fact.”

  “And you do not think that I will face challenges in London society? I am not known to any of them; will they not resent me accordingly?”

  “My dear, they would all resent the new Mrs. Darcy regardless, for the simple fact he did not choose any of them. But I am confident in your abilities—I know you will meet them all with fortitude and determination. There is also my support to consider, and though I do not boast, I do not wield an inconsequential measure of influence. With our support, I dare say you will be well in our society.”

  “Thank you, Lady Susan,” replied Elizabeth. “But I would caution you not to place the cart before the horse—Mr. Darcy has not proposed to me.”

  “No,” replied Lady Susan. “But he will. Of that, I am convinced.”

  Lady Susan Fitzwilliam was quite happy with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. There was something refreshing and genuine about the girl, especially when compared with most of the debutantes these days, who were, in Lady Susan’s mind, less than impressive. Having two daughters herself, Lady Susan had always striven to raise them to not only be proper, demure, and kind ladies, but she had also taught them to use their intelligence and try to be something more than just a simpering debutant. In that, she thought she had been successful—they were both good women, both had made good marriages, and both were in demand by others in society for their characters, rather than just their connections.

  Miss Elizabeth was not the most beautiful of specimens, thought Lady Susan as she observed the girl speaking with the others her age. She was certainly not so lovely as her elder sister. But that did not mean her beauty was insufficient; in fact, when Lady Susan observed her, watched her as she spoke with animation, her eyes alight with happiness and mirth, she was not surprised Darcy had been captivated. They would make a good match, she was certain of it. The censure of the ton might last for some little time, but it would not be long before Miss Elizabeth herself won over all but the proudest and most disagreeable, and who cared what they thought anyway!

  When they had finished their treats, the five ladies rose and made their way out to the sidewalk, their outing for the day completed. While she watched them, Lady Susan thought of the spectacle these ladies would create when they appeared at the ball her friend was hosting. She could hardly wait to savor those delights—society, even that of the upper classes, too often descended into boredom and ennui.

  It was while they were walking down the street toward their carriage that they were accosted by a pair of ladies Lady Susan had never met, but had heard much of. She prepared to be amused all over again. Though the elder was largely silent, the younger more than made up for her lack.

  “Dear Georgiana!” exclaimed the woman. “And A . . . Miss de Bourgh, of course! How very fortunate we are to find you here today!”

  It was not difficult for Lady Susan to see the distaste in her youngest niece’s countenance upon being waylaid by the loud lady, though she was certain the woman did not notice it at all. What was more interesting was how she had ignored Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, especially since, by all accounts, the lady’s brother was now in a courtship with Miss Bennet! Had the woman no sense?

  “Miss Bingley,” replied Anne. “Mrs. Hurst. We are happy to see you. In fact, we were just speaking of you, were we not Elizabeth?”

  Lady Susan did not miss the exasperated look Miss Elizabeth directed at Anne, and she wondered at it. Miss Bingley, however, turned to Miss
Elizabeth as if noticing her for the first time, and her lip curled with a sneer.

  “Miss Eliza Bennet. And, of course, my dear Jane.” Though Miss Bingley’s countenance softened a little when she mentioned the elder sister, there was still a coldness in her tone Lady Susan found less than amusing. The Bingleys did not inhabit a high position in society, it was true, but Miss Bingley would need to be more welcoming of Miss Bennet if she did not wish to spawn rumors about a break in the family.

  Then Miss Bingley’s gimlet eyes swung back to Miss Elizabeth, and they became flinty and frigid. “I see you are still staying at Mr. Darcy’s house, Miss Eliza. Have you forsaken scampering around the countryside, or do you use Hyde Park as your own personal wilderness? It is far too well manicured to provide the mud your petticoats require, but the Serpentine would do well enough to make them sodden.”

  “I feel no need to wade in the Serpentine,” replied Miss Elizabeth, seemingly more amused by the other woman’s vitriol than offended by it. “But, yes, I do walk in Hyde Park as often as I can, though Mr. Darcy’s garden at the back of his house also has beauties to explore. I have found another lover of nature, as Mr. Darcy has often walked with me.”

  The flaring of Miss Bingley’s nostrils confirmed her affront. This was a woman who, though Lady Susan had never met her, had been intent upon becoming the next mistress of Pemberley for some time. Had Lady Susan ever been inclined to doubt her nephew’s words, Miss Bingley’s behavior was more than proof enough.

  “Excuse me, Anne,” said Lady Susan, stepping forward, intent upon preventing Miss Bingley of making a spectacle of them all, “but perhaps you would be so good as to introduce me to your friend?”

  “Of course, Aunt,” replied Anne. The amusement in her tone suggested that she expected to be vastly diverted by what was to follow. For Miss Bingley’s part, she started and stared at Lady Susan, seeming to notice her for the first time. Lady Susan had often met the Miss Bingleys of the world, and as a group they seemed to have a specific quality—that of an almost occult sense of where to find one of higher status. For Miss Bingley to have missed the fact that Lady Susan was with them was unusual, to say the least.