Selfish disdain for the feelings of others . . .
No, he must speak. Elizabeth’s words continued to haunt him. Much as it may pain him, he must speak to Bingley and set the man’s mind at ease.
“I believe that your sister is correct on one point, Miss Bennet is an excellent actress,” Darcy said and watched as Bingley dropped his head into his hands.
“But being correct on that one point does not mean the remainder of her assertions are also correct. I did believe Miss Bennet to be indifferent to you and I was concerned for you. As we have stayed longer than originally anticipated, I have made a study of Miss Bennet and she is a most magnificent actress. Have you never noticed how she is always perfectly poised?” Darcy paused as Bingley turned to study him.
“What person have you ever known to be perfectly composed at all times in all situations? Did she ever show embarrassment as her family made a spectacle of themselves? Her grief has put a strain on her, I’ll grant you, but as you said, she continues to focus on the comfort of all around her. I believe Miss Bennet’s situation has forced her to shield her emotions from public view.”
Bingley said nothing, so Darcy continued. “I learned to wear a mask at social events to conceal my feelings from those around me, most of whom wanted something from me. I wished to avoid signifying a preference for any lady around me. I wished to avoid rumors wherever possible, and in town that is only possible when you hide your thoughts well from those continually scrutinizing you.”
“You are more open with me, but I rarely feel I have a good understanding of what you are thinking.”
“Exactly. Miss Bennet is the same. I have no doubt her sisters and intimate acquaintances could discern her feelings, while those of a new acquaintance would not.”
“If you are right, then I will never really know her feelings.”
“As I said, I have made a study of Miss Bennet, and I believe she cares for you.”
Bingley snorted. “Since when are you an expert on the female mind?”
Darcy held back a sharp retort. Bingley did not know of his interest in Elizabeth, nor of the harsh words Elizabeth had spoken.
“I am far from expert. I may well be the slowest student possible when it comes to the female mind, but I do understand masks in ways you do not.”
Bingley again snorted and went back to staring at the fire.
“I am serious, this is why you win so rarely at loo,” Darcy said, but Bingley shook his head, clearly not believing him.
“Hurst, I know you are awake, help me make my point. How do you know when Bingley has a winning hand?”
“He tries not to grin and rests his hand on the table,” came a voice from the corner.
“And when he has a losing hand?”
“He twitches the hand not holding his cards and looks at them often.”
Bingley looked back and forth between the men.
“You are hopeless at loo because you cannot hide what you feel. Even those who are more adept at hiding will always have some sign that reflects their true thoughts.”
“So what does Hurst do?” Bingley asked.
Darcy smiled. “He takes a drink when he has a bad hand, but he takes a longer one when he has a good hand. Your sisters tend to make eyes at each other when they think themselves winning, but neither will look to the other if losing.”
“Little wonder you tend to win.”
“I observe. The method is not absolute, but can provide a better answer than guessing.”
“So what does Miss Bennet do with a winning hand?”
Darcy relaxed, glad that Bingley was seriously listening now.
“I have not had the pleasure of playing cards with Miss Bennet often enough to know her expressions there. I can tell you that when she converses with other gentlemen, her gestures and expressions do not vary. Her pattern only varies when she speaks with you.”
Bingley looked hopeful for a moment, then clouded again.
“That does not mean she loves me. It could mean she is making more of an attempt to lure me.”
“It could,” Darcy admitted. “If her eyes did not glow when she first sees you, or her hand reach for yours on its own before she stopped it, then I might consider her an actress using arts and allurements.” Darcy thought of Wickham and his interactions with Elizabeth. “Such things can be acted, certainly, but that kind of cold calculation would emerge in her other actions as well. A liar can be found out because while he may lie well, he lies too often and will eventually be caught.”
Darcy collected himself to return to the discussion at hand.
“Do you believe Miss Bennet to be calculating? Have you seen anything in her behavior elsewhere that would suggest her to be so?”
“No, I told you. Miss Bennet is an angel.”
“Then I must believe her to be sincere in her actions. I cannot tell you the extent of her feelings, but I do believe she has them for you. You must discover the rest.” Darcy leaned back in his seat, more relaxed since Bingley began thinking again.
“You have said that her flaw is a lack of openness,” he continued. “She may well see yours as a tendency to be too open. Only you can decide if her flaw is one you can live with. Do not expect her to change who she is.”
“I am surprised to hear you speak in her favor to such a degree. I did not think you cared for the Bennets.”
“I care about you. If she will make you happy, then nothing else matters.”
Darcy stood and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I leave you to your thoughts. Good night Bingley. Good night Hurst,” he called to the man, still sprawled in his chair, then left the room and headed to his own.
~ ~ ~
Mr. Bennet spoke to Charlotte and Sir William Lucas one frigid Sunday morning after church services. Snow blanketed the town, providing a charming backdrop for a proposal, even if the substance of the proposal was more business than romance. Still, Elizabeth was glad her friend would be able to add a bit of scenery to the story as she told it in years to come.
Three days after Mr. Bennet and Charlotte came to an understanding, Elizabeth was walking to the parlor as she saw Mary exit her father’s library. Her sister hastily wiped tears from her eyes, then rushed up the stairs.
Elizabeth knocked on the door, concerned something was amiss.
“Enter.”
“Is something wrong, Papa? I just saw Mary dash out of here in tears,” Elizabeth asked as she entered and closed the door behind her.
“I scarcely know.” Her father looked at a letter as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “It is a letter from Mr. Collins.”
“Mr. Collins?”
“Yes, he wished to ask for my permission to court Mary.”
“Court her?” Elizabeth sat down across from her father.
“Yes. Perhaps he was too afraid of another rejection to risk asking for her hand outright.”
“What did Mary say?”
“She was quite happy,” Mr. Bennet said, looking puzzled. “I assured her that she did not need to sacrifice herself to save her sisters. I thought I had made that clear when I supported your refusal. She knows I have engaged myself to Miss Lucas, and other steps are being taken to see to your futures.” Mr. Bennet set the letter down and removed his spectacles.
“She said she wants to marry him, that it would be no sacrifice as she thinks him a fine gentleman we cannot appreciate.” Mr. Bennet looked around the room, a little bit lost it appeared, before putting his spectacles back on. “Could she be thinking of a different man?”
“When he stayed for Mamma’s funeral, he paid attention to her and she appeared to receive his attentions with pleasure.”
“I know that Mary has not –” he stopped himself a moment before continuing, “she has a different sense than you and Jane, but I would not have thought her opinion could be so drastically different.”
“If Mary is happy, then I am happy for her.”
Mr. Bennet still appeared a bit befuddled. “Mary wa
s not pleased with my reaction and informed me she only wished he had made an offer instead of asking for a courtship. I had never heard her profess so strong an opinion to me that did not involve either sermons or sheet music. I told her she may write to him. What the two of them would write to one another I cannot imagine.”
“That may be a blessing, as I imagine their correspondence would be rather dull to any but the two of them,” Elizabeth replied.
Her father looked up at that comment and his face relaxed. “I suppose that is true Lizzy. If she does wish to marry him, then I wish them both all the best. Perhaps their shared love of sermons will be enough to build a marriage upon.”
“If they are to marry, it may be well that Mary weds before you do. She has experienced enough upheaval and confusion and will do so again when she moves to Kent. Perhaps sparing her the change a new lady of the house is certain to bring would be a kindness. Much as we all like Charlotte, there is bound to be awkwardness between us all in the beginning.”
Mr. Bennet smiled. “I have ever known you to be clever, Lizzy. Thank you for your suggestion as I think it a wise one. You and Jane will be quick to adapt, but the younger girls will likely feel the change more.”
Reaching across the desk, he took his daughter’s hand. “Your mother would be in ecstasies right now. A daughter to be married, and never would she have expected Mary to be the first.”
Elizabeth swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Mary would likely be uncomfortable to be the recipient of such raptures, but she would have been pleased to have Mamma’s absolute affection and favor.” Elizabeth looked away and blinked back tears. “At least until Mary pointed out the irrelevance of lace at a religious ceremony, or the need to avoid the sin of gluttony at the wedding breakfast.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled and Elizabeth relaxed. She could remember her mother and the conflicts her eccentricities often caused while still honoring her memory.
~ ~ ~
Elizabeth entered the parlor to discover Jane and Mr. Bingley alone, and sitting quite close. She attempted to excuse herself, but Mr. Bingley jumped up and insisted she stay. Smiling brightly at Jane, he informed them both that he must be on his way.
As soon as he had quit the room, Elizabeth turned to Jane, insistent on an explanation.
“He loves me,” Jane said, eyes brimming with happy tears as she gripped both of Lizzy’s hands in hers. “He said that he can wait, but he needed to know my feelings. I could not find any words to speak, so happy I was, and I began to cry. He asked if that meant I cared for him too and all I could do was nod my head.”
“I hope you nodded vigorously.”
“To be sure, I did,” Jane replied with a laugh. “I reached for his hand as well. I know that was not appropriate, but I did not want him in any doubt of my feelings.”
“Yet you could not say the words?”
“I could not say any words then. It was all I could do to keep myself from sobbing and a single word would have let out everything. Lizzy,” she said as she calmed herself, “he . . . he thought I might be indifferent to him.”
“He has not had the time to know you the way we have.”
“I know, but he said I must be more open with him in future if he is to understand me. He would not wish to risk so grave a misinterpretation again. I assured him I would try.”
“How he could think you indifferent I cannot imagine. You may guard your feelings closely, but never to that extent.”
“I got the impression,” Jane said as she looked away, “that someone had attempted to persuade him of my indifference.”
Elizabeth fumed. How dare Mr. Darcy presume to impose himself upon his friend in such a manner! The conceit, the arrogance, of such an act was intolerable. Had he no consideration for Mr. Bingley as a friend, or was Mr. Bingley merely ornamental and as such must not be tarnished by such low associations?
To think, she had considered apologizing to the man for her rudeness when they met on the walk – no more. She had not misjudged him, nor judged him too harshly, as she had begun to consider. The man must think himself all-knowing and all-powerful to try to bend another’s will to his own in such a manner. Elizabeth was disgusted by his presumption.
But such thoughts must wait. Jane needed her now. As she could not hold her tongue if she spoke of the persuasion of his friend, Elizabeth shifted the topic.
“And now you shall have two new sisters. So many sisters and never a brother,” she teased. To Elizabeth’s surprise, Jane’s jaw hardened.
“Have you fallen out with Caroline and Louisa?”
“No, I have not spoken to Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst since the funeral. As I am in mourning, it would have been inappropriate for me to call on them. I believe they called once, but I was unwell at the time and unable to see them. They did not stay long, nor have they called again.”
Elizabeth knew that mourning rules were not so rigid as to prevent them calling upon a friend during the day. Jane’s change of attitude toward the sisters intrigued Elizabeth, but she did not wish to pry. Not true. She very much did wish to pry, but concern for Jane had her hold any questions. Jane would share whatever had happened in her own time.
“I am sorry to hear that you are not as close as you had been, but only inasmuch as it may make your life with Mr. Bingley less pleasant. I will not say unpleasant, as even those two women could not exert enough influence to dampen either of your joy.”
“You recognized them for unpleasant people immediately.”
“Not immediately, but yes. They had no reason to pretend friendship with me and so made little effort. Based on their brother’s interest in you, they likely felt a need to keep an eye on you.” Elizabeth squeezed her sister’s hand, trying to bring Jane out of her ill humor. “Besides, you are far more pleasant than I am, so they made the best choice they could have in seeking out female companionship in Hertfordshire.”
Jane smiled and squeezed Lizzy’s hand in return. “You are far too critical of yourself. They likely thought me the easier one to fool.”
“Your trusting nature has you seeking out the good in everyone. Much as I hate to see you hurt when that trust is ill-deserved, still I would not change you for the world.”
Elizabeth embraced her sister, hoping Jane and Mr. Bingley would both be strong enough to withstand the assaults of his friends and family. While the two may have come to an understanding, they had not the security of an announced engagement.
CHAPTER 15
Why her sisters’ joy should depress her spirits, Elizabeth could not understand. Jane had kept her news to herself, other than speaking with their father who had already received a visit from Mr. Bingley. Mary deserved a chance to be the center of attention and Jane did not wish to distract from Mary’s joy.
For Mary was joyful. Her courtship had lasted no longer than the first letters sent between the two before a proposal arrived. Mary now smiled more than she had ever been known to do previously. She played livelier selections when she practiced the pianoforte. She hummed as she worked on her sewing projects.
Lydia and Kitty could not understand how she could view Mr. Collins as anything other than the most boring man of their acquaintance. Since they saw Mary as their most boring sister, they eventually allowed that perhaps it was a good match and ceased teasing Mary. After Jane and Elizabeth had words with them, they acknowledged that they were very happy that Mary would be settled so well and so happily. They kept their joy that she would be settled so far away mostly to themselves.
Mary was a new person. Where she had previously been dull, she now glowed, as if an unused lantern had finally been lit. She wrote to Mr. Collins regularly, but grouped the letters to spare some expense. His responses were equally verbose, and Mr. Bennet commented that he may not have much of an estate left to go to Mr. Collins if he had to continue franking so many letters.
Jane was still Jane, only brighter. Her natural reserve kept her from exposing her secret to her sisters, but Lizzy often caught
her happily daydreaming as she stared out a window, or pretended to read a book. Elizabeth had reminded her that if she truly wished to keep up such a farce, she needed to turn a page at least occasionally.
The contrast of their joy against their black gowns at times felt inappropriate, yet Elizabeth knew her mother would never have let mourning hold her back from celebrating the upcoming marriages of her daughters. Had she the ability, Mrs. Bennet would likely require her daughters to cease mourning altogether so they could marry sooner.
In Mary’s case that might happen. Lady Catherine was travelling not far from Hertfordshire in early March. If the wedding took place at that time, she had offered to let the newlyweds join her in her carriage for the trip back to Kent. The girls would be in half-mourning by that time, so the impropriety of a wedding was somewhat mitigated. Mary would not be able to bring all of her things at that time, but the convenience of transportation, and resulting avoidance of expense, made the suggestion well worth considering.
Elizabeth expected Jane and Mr. Bingley would not wait long after she came out of mourning to have their own wedding. Within a few months, Lizzy was likely to lose two sisters and gain a step-mother in a flurry of weddings that would have dizzied even her mother.
She did not begrudge any of them their happiness. Truly, she did not. Why she felt so empty and low at the prospect of their joy she did not know. Perhaps it was the additional change coming to her own life so soon. She and Mary had never been very close, but Elizabeth would still miss her when she left. Jane would be close at Netherfield, but her time and focus would be spent there. Elizabeth would see her, often at that, but it would not be the same as lying together in bed at night and sharing secrets.
Everyone’s life seemed to be changing except her own. Maybe that was the crux of the problem. Elizabeth knew some of her confused emotions were residual grief, but that was not the cause of all of it. Some was likely due to the impending changes, perhaps an anticipated grief of the loss of two sisters? She was glad her father was marrying Charlotte, but even there she knew that she would lose some of the attention and time each had previously devoted to her as they focused on each other. Elizabeth would be left mostly alone, with just Kitty and Lydia for company.
Folly and Forgiveness: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 10