Charlotte

by Linda Phelps

  “Is Charlotte so old? I had not thought of it.”

  “She is at an age where she needs a husband. Soon she will be beyond that age. Then what will happen to her?”

  “Nonsense,” said Sir William. “She is a fine girl with many good qualities. A man would consider himself lucky to have her as his wife.”

  “But that does not seem to be likely to occur. And this feeling I believe she has for Mr. Bingley can only bring her pain. Do you think he would consider her to be his wife when he has met Jane Bennet and shown her favour?”

  “Charlotte is in every way the equal of Jane Bennet,” Sir William said loyally.

  “No, in one way she is not. She is not as handsome. Indeed, she is not handsome at all.”

  Sir William considered. “But perhaps Bingley will see deeper than her looks.”

  “He is a young man. You cannot suppose that will happen.”

  “Perhaps not. But what are we to do in this situation?”

  “One of us should advise her to think less well of Mr. Bingley.” said Lady Lucas. “After all, he seems to treat most of the young women he meets with consideration. Either it is his way, or he is wickedly trying to gain their affections for sport. In either case, it is not something that Charlotte should allow to turn her head. She is normally such a sensible girl.”

  Sir William said, “You are right. You must talk to her. It is her mother’s responsibility to advise her on such things. But, as you say, she is a sensible girl. A few words should have her thinking correctly again.”

  “Oh, Sir William! It continues to amaze me to see how little men know about a woman’s heart! Perhaps we should consider going to town this winter, in order to let her meet new people.”

  “My dear, we have not the money for such a holiday.”

  “Then Bath?” persisted Lady Lucas.

  “I am sorry, but that is also impossible. Perhaps next winter.”

  Lady Lucas said, “Next winter Charlotte will be eight-and-twenty. We must do something. You must do something.”

  “And so I will, my dear. So I will,” said Sir William. He patted his wife’s hand.

  Chapter Six

  THERE ENSUED A ROUND of private parties and dinners to all of which Mr. Bingley and his guests were invited and honoured. The ladies of the neighbourhood outdid themselves in ordering up meals and entertainments.

  It was impossible for Charlotte to avoid seeing Bingley at these events The guests whispered about the man who, it was obvious to all, was very attracted to Jane Bennet. Charlotte watched in astonishment. Jane did not encourage Mr. Bingley, She seemed not to recognize the interest he had in her. Charlotte could see how easily it would be to win his heart if one had a piece of it already. Did Jane not know, or did she not care?

  This answer was easily obtained at a large party hosted my Sir William and Lady Lucas. Charlotte and Elizabeth took the opportunity to discuss the subject during a walk around the garden. . “Mr. Bingley seems on the way to being in love with Jane, do you not agree?” said Elizabeth.

  “Yes, that is what all the neighbours say. I believe I can see some signs of it.”

  “But the neighbours do not say that Jane is making a spectacle of herself, do they?” Elizabeth, perhaps because of the continual shame heaped on her by the public silliness of her mother and her younger sisters, did not want Jane to be discovered in her growing affection. “Her behavior should guard her from all suspicions of the impertinent.”

  So Jane was not as indifferent as she seemed. Charlotte pondered this fact as she thought of a proper reply. “It may perhaps be pleasant to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Elizabeth.

  “If a woman conceals her affection from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him. There are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement.” She thought again of the play seen long ago, in which Amelia had spoken openly of her affection for Anhalt. And here she was telling Elizabeth to advise Jane to act in the same way. This policy would destroy even the faint hopes Charlotte had for Mr. Bingley.

  Charlotte recognized the inconsistency of her position. She was herself in love with Mr. Bingley without receiving encouragement in any way except for courteous remarks about dancing at the Assembly Ball. As if to punish herself she said, “In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her if she does not help him on.”

  “But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he must find it out.”

  “Remember, Eliza,” said Charlotte, “that Bingley does not know Jane’s disposition as you do. Though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together, as they always see each other in large mixed parties.”

  “They have spent only four evenings together,” Elizabeth pointed out. “Surely Jane will need more time to test her own feelings in this matter.”

  “If Jane has a chance to fix Bingley’s affections, she is a fool if she does not do so,” said Charlotte, “She can learn to love him once they are engaged.”

  “You make me laugh, Charlotte,” said Elizabeth, “but if you are sincere, I wager you would never act that way yourself.”

  Charlotte made no reply. Elizabeth, bright as she was, displayed a constant lack of insight into other people’s hearts. Should Charlotte ever be offered the opportunity, she fully intended to act in accordance with her own advice.

  The two young ladies re-entered the crowded drawing room at Lucas Lodge. There they met several of the neighbours and officers of the militia. “Well,” said Elizabeth, “I see Jane and Mr. Bingley are sitting together at this moment. We need to invent more such occasions. I think I will bespeak Colonel Forester to host a ball.”

  Charlotte found a spot from which she could discreetly observe the couple. They exhibited the conventional behavior of lovers, speaking only to each other, gazing in each other’s eyes, and sitting just a little closer to each other than was quite proper. Her heart broke.

  In order to ease her feelings, Charlotte took to observing the other guests. Soon she found she was watching Mr. Darcy. The man was occupied with Miss Caroline, Bingley’s unmarried sister. That lady had resumed the amusement she had invented on the morning their party called at Lucas Lodge, which is to say, she was walking slowly around the room examining its furnishings, then sharing her scorn for these items with Mr. Darcy. He seemed only slightly interested, and as Charlotte watched, he moved to the center of the room. It was obvious to her that his purposes were first, to escape from Miss Bingley, and secondly to hear what Elizabeth was saying with such animation. How very odd!

  Elizabeth noticed. When she returned to Charlotte she said, “What does Mr. Darcy mean by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forester?”

  Charlotte, schooled by years of observations, felt that Mr. Darcy seemed to have altered his opinion that Elizabeth was only tolerable in appearance. In fact he displayed a certain interest in her. Why could Elizabeth not see this for herself?

  “Only Mr. Darcy can answer that question,” Charlotte said.

  “But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. If I do not begin by being impertinent to him, I shall soon grow afraid of him.”

  In a few moments Mr. Darcy approached them, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking. “Here is your opportunity,” said Charlotte. “You may now test your courage.”

  Once so challenged, Elizabeth said, “Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forester to give us a ball at Meryton?”

  “With great energy,--but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic.” He spoke with perfect politeness and seemed not to be affronted.

  “You are severe on us,” said Elizabeth, n
ot quite sure how to understand his answer.

  “It will be her turn to be teased,” said Charlotte. “I am going to open the instrument, and you know what follows. Prepare yourself, Mr. Darcy.”

  “You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody,” said Elizabeth, but she did not demur and immediately took her place at the pianoforte.

  Her performance was pleasing, but not outstanding. Charlotte could have done so well herself, had she been encouraged to play, but that seldom happened, even in her own home. By dint of frequent practice, Charlotte’s playing was far superior to her friend’s, although she had not a good singing voice. No one, not her parents or sister or good friend Elizabeth ever thought she might enjoy an occasional chance to play for an audience. The applause was always for others. As she listened she occupied herself by observing the people who watched and heard the music.

  Jane and Mr. Bingley paused briefly to attend, but were soon back to telling each other whatever it was that lovers tell each other. Mr. Darcy watched and listened with apparent pleasure, although he was surely used to hearing playing that was much superior. Miss Caroline Bingley caught his eye and directed her satirical look upon the performer, but Mr. Darcy did not share her amusement. When he immediately returned his gaze to Elizabeth, Miss Bingley was caught by surprise.

  Mr. Darcy returned to form, however, when Mary Bennet began to play. She too was superior to Elizabeth in technique, but few enjoyed listening to her. In time she was induced to play some country dances, for the younger folk were in need of the exercise and the chance to make themselves into pairs. Darcy stood watching them in silent—but not invisible—indignation at such a mode of passing the evening to the exclusion of all conversation. He glanced several times at Bingley, perhaps in hope that they shared an irritation at this form of entertainment and would suggest departure, but Bingley did not take his eyes from Jane Bennet’s face.

  Charlotte saw her father bustle from one guest to another. As he approached Mr. Darcy, he was apparently struck by the man’s isolation from the other guests. .Glancing about, his eye passed over his daughter and alit on the form of Elizabeth Bennet.

  “My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing?—Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner.”

  It was obvious to Charlotte, who knew her so well, that Elizabeth barely managed to make a civil reply to this request to pair her with the man she considered to be the most odious in the room. Presently she said, “Indeed, Sir, I have not the least intention of dancing.”

  To the young ladies’ surprise, Mr. Darcy himself requested her hand. He even managed a smile as he offered his to her. Elizabeth was not to be persuaded. Privately Charlotte thought she was in error. Old insults might be overlooked when a man who has ten thousand a year attempts to make peace. But Elizabeth was adamant in her refusal. Neither Sir William’s compliments nor Mr. Darcy’s earnestness dented her resolve.

  At last the men accepted her decision, and each wandered to another part of the room. Neither her father nor Mr. Darcy had thought that Charlotte might substitute for the recalcitrant Elizabeth. She watched as Caroline Bingley approached Darcy. From previous observation, Charlotte knew that the lady had a keen interest in the gentleman, although she was not sure he himself realized it. They exchanged a only a few words before the lady became extremely lively. She was teasing Darcy on some matter, and in so doing, attempting to forward her own cause. He remained indifferent to her chatter.

  Chapter Seven

  AS ALWAYS AFTER AN entertainment, a review of the separate events was necessary. Charlotte and her mother spoke of the pairings and performances that had occurred in their house the previous night. Central to their gossip was the apparent flourishing of the attachment between Jane Bennet and Mr. Bingley.

  “I am beginning to think it will be a match,” said Lady Lucas. “How wonderful for Jane, indeed, for all the Bennets.”

  “Jane is a fine girl and deserves a fine husband,” said Charlotte. “Let us hope we can wish her joy openly in a few weeks.” Thus did she discipline herself to hide her feelings from the world.

  At this moment Lydia and Kitty Bennet burst into the room. “You will never guess what has happened,” said Lydia. “Jane has been invited to spend the day with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst and have dinner with them. Isn’t that splendid for her?”

  “Indeed it is,” said Lady Lucas. “How did this come about?”

  “The ladies sent a note, and Jane would have liked to take the carriage, for it is above three miles to Netherfield, but the horses were needed on the farm, since this is the end of the harvest. So Mama told her to ride the saddle horse over there. She is just starting off as we came here to tell you the news.”

  “So she is barely on her way,” Charlotte said. She walked to the window. “I hope she arrives before this rain does. See how dark the sky is becoming?” As she spoke the window resounded with drops.

  “Mama hopes that it rains so hard that Jane will be invited to spend the night,” said Lydia. “She hopes that being near Mr. Bingley in his own house will influence him into an attachment with her.”

  “Hush! Remember what Lizzy said. We are not to mention that!” said Kitty.

  “I do not see why not. Everybody knows. Even the officers’ wives were talking of it last night.”

  “We were speaking about it before you came in,” said Maria Lucas, eager for romantic details.

  “And we will speak of it no more,” said Charlotte sternly. “Lydia, how is your mother? Mr. Bennet? and Mary?”

  “Very well, thank you,” said Kitty, calmed by these familiar questions. “And Sir William? Is he well today?”

  Once it was determined that all members of both households were in health, the conversation reverted to the weather. The day grew darker as the cold rain pounded upon the windows of the sitting room. Lady Lucas sent for candles.

  “I am concerned for the safety of Jane,” said Lady Lucas. “I have known her since she was a baby, and I do not remember that she was ever robust enough to withstand a ride in cold rain such as this. Do you not share my concern, Charlotte?”

  “Of course, Mama. Perhaps it was not a good idea for her to attempt to make the journey.” Her mind had entered forbidden territory, in which Jane contracted an illness of the lungs, suffered, and died. After a proper interval, Bingley came to Charlotte, who offered him condolences and comfort until his heart forgot Jane Bennet and turned to her. Shaking her head to clear it, she said, “I think Lydia and Kitty would do well to stay with us until after this weather has passed.”

  “Shall I tell the cook?” asked Maria.

  “Do not take the trouble,” Lydia said. “We are going on to my Aunt Phillips, for she too will want this news. We do not mind a little rain.” And off they ran, shrieking as the drops pelted them.

  “Foolishness,” said Lady Lucas. “I will not wonder if they catch their deaths.”

  “It is not far to the house of their Aunt Phillips,” said Charlotte, “and they will find a great fire there.”

  “It is not their Aunt Phillips who matters,” said Maria. “They hope to meet some of the officers there. Lydia is always speaking of Captain Carter”.

  “They are almost running wild. They are too young to have such friends,” said Lady Lucas. “I do wonder at Mrs. Bennet allowing it.”

  “Perhaps she hopes they will find husbands in the militia,” said Charlotte. “They will need to find them somewhere.” Lady Lucas looked at her in surprise for a moment.

  “Mama,” said Maria, “you should let me go to town with them. I will need a husband soon, and the officers will not be in Meryton forever.”

  “No,” said Lady Lucas. “We will leave that sort of activity to the Bennet girls. The daughters of Sir William do not chase men in the very streets of the Meryton.”

  “But, Mama—”

  “No.”

  Lady Lu
cas’s fears for the two silly girls proved to be unfounded. They returned the next morning, none the worse for being drenched, to report.

  “Jane has become ill,” Lydia said, “too ill to return to Longbourn last night even in Mr. Bingley’s carriage. Mama is happy that she has had to spend the night. Papa says her plans might lead to the death of Jane, but Mama says no one dies of a cold.”

  “Lydia, hold your tongue!” cried Kitty. “Remember what Lizzy—”

  “Oh, bother what Lizzy said. She wants to see Jane for herself, so she set off across the fields. We just managed to avoid the dirt by staying exactly on the path, but Lizzy will have to walk across fields. She will be a sight when she arrives.”

  “She shows a laudable concern for her sister,” said Lady Lucas, “and her presence will be appreciated no matter how her clothes look.”

  “Oh, Mama!” said Maria. “Just think of Mr. Bingley’s sisters. No one could want to appear in front of them without looking as elegant as she can. You know how they stare at one.”

  Charlotte’s thoughts had focused on the ailing Jane. Had her nose and eyes turned red? Was her hair straggling down her neck? Was her complexion pale and lifeless? Perhaps this sojourn would not serve to increase Bingley’s affections. “I wish with all my heart that Jane recover soon,” she said.

  “Yes,” said Lady Lucas. “She will not want to impose on Mr. Bingley’s hospitality for too long.”

  But despite everyone’s stated good wishes, Jane Bennet did not quickly return to her home. It was known that Elizabeth too was now a guest at Netherfield. The village was alerted when Mr. Jones, the apothecary, was sent for, and again when he returned with some draughts he had prepared. It was rumored that Mr. Bingley had wanted to send to London for a physician, but this Jane had forbidden. Mr. Bingley, when glimpsed in Meryton, was said to be bordering on despair, which was rather more than was true. However, when spoken to he did seem to be inattentive, as if his mind was on graver matters.