Miss Bingley Requests

  ‘All young ladies accomplished!’ Caroline was shocked. ‘My dear Charles, what do you mean?’

  He turned to her and nodded decisively. ‘Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.’

  Oh Charles, Caroline thought, have you not learned the difference between what is said of a person and what is true about them? She was about put this in words, when Mr Darcy spoke.

  ‘Your list of the common extent of accomplishments has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.’

  Caroline sent Miss Elizabeth a glance of triumph. ‘Nor I, I am sure.’

  ‘Then,’ observed Miss Eliza, ‘you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.’

  Mr Darcy sat across the table from where Miss Elizabeth stood, and he sent her a small smile. ‘Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.’

  ‘Oh, certainly,’ cried Caroline. What was going on? Why did Mr Darcy address his comments to Eliza? Why did he smile at her, when he never smiled at any one except his intimate friends?

  ‘No one,’ Mr Darcy said, ‘can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.’

  Caroline felt a little better. This will show Miss Elizabeth Bennet how distant she is from being as accomplished as I am.

  ‘A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.’

  Out of the corner of her eye, Caroline observed Miss Eliza, but was disappointed to see not a chastened air but a mischievous smile.

  ‘All this she must possess,’ added Mr Darcy, and Caroline knew her triumph would come, but then he continued, ‘and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.’

  Caroline’s jaw dropped but she hastily rearranged her features into an expression of calm. Inside her head, though, her thoughts reeled.

  Miss Eliza’s impish smile turned into a laugh. ‘I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.’

  Mr Darcy smiled at her again. ‘Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?’

  Instead of accepting his superior understanding of the world, Eliza said, ‘I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Caroline said, and at the same moment, Louisa cried, ‘You insult those in your presence!’

  ‘I apologise,’ Eliza said. ‘I meant no insult. Am I to take it, then, that the two of you are among the six of which Mr Darcy spoke?’

  ‘Indeed,’ Caroline said, not caring if her displeasure showed. ‘And there are many more among our acquaintanceship who are even more accomplished than we. You met one such, in fact, during the last many weeks. Do you not recall my dear friend, Lady Amesbury?’

  ‘I do,’ Elizabeth said gravely. ‘I remember her very well.’

  Something in the tone of her voice made Caroline wonder if Miss Eliza had not thought highly of Eleanor but surely no one, even one with so little knowledge of the fashionable world, could have failed to recognise Eleanor’s quality. Before she could say anything, though, Mr Hurst pointed out, in a peevish tone, that all the card players had let their attention stray from the game. As all conversation was then at an end, Miss Elizabeth excused herself to check on her sister.

  ‘Eliza Bennet,’ Caroline said, when the door had barely closed behind her, ‘is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own, and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds.’ She looked at Mr Darcy. ‘But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.’

  ‘Undoubtedly,’ he replied, ‘there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes employ. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable.’ He gazed directly at Caroline as he said this, his expression sober, and she assumed he shared her opinion of Eliza Bennet. Something in his gaze, though, suggested that she not speak any more on this topic, and so she returned her attention to her cards.

  Elizabeth joined them again sometime later, but mercifully her appearance was brief. She told them that Jane was much worse and she could not leave her.

  Charles became distraught at this, even though Jane was clearly well enough to be left, since Eliza was here and not upstairs. ‘I insist,’ he said, ‘that Mr Jones be sent for immediately.’ Caroline, sorry to see her brother so unhappy, suggested that an express be sent to London at once, for surely no country advice could be matched by that coming from any of the city’s eminent physicians.

  ‘Caroline!’ Louisa said. ‘That is a very good idea. That is what we must do! Dear Jane must have only the best care.’

  ‘No, I thank you,’ Eliza said. ‘It is too much trouble.’

  Again, the lack of manners, Caroline thought. We offer her the best, and she turns us down. Then she had another thought. Perhaps, being a Bennet, Eliza was concerned about the cost of such a visit. That, at least, showed a touch of manners, even if her refusal was unbearably rude.

  ‘Then,’ Charles pleaded, ‘at least permit us to send for Mr Jones.’

  Eliza hesitated, clearly torn between wanting something to be decided and her wish to return to Jane as quickly as possible. After more discussion, things were settled; Mr Jones would be sent for early in the morning if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better.

  Eliza hurried out of the room to return to her sister. ‘I did agree to this,’ Charles said miserably, once she had gone, ‘but I shall not sleep a wink tonight, out of worry.’

  ‘I understand completely,’ Caroline said tenderly. ‘Louisa and I are utterly miserable to know our friend suffers so unbearably and we can do nothing to alleviate her pains.’ She patted her brother on his shoulder, and then suggested, ‘Why do Louisa and I not play duets on the pianoforte? It will give us all much cheer, I am certain.’

  ‘Without completing this hand?’ Mr Hurst said, sounding most put out.

  ‘Of course not,’ Louisa said. ‘We will have music after the game is finished.’

  Chapter Five

  Caroline heard Charles coming out of his rooms long before she was ready to even summon her first cup of tea, which she always drank before rising from her bed. She heard his voice, calling for a housemaid, who was then sent to Miss Bennet’s room to inquire as to her welfare. Caroline refused to be outdone by her brother, and so sent Genney to pursue the same information.

  Sometime later she received the news that Miss Jane Bennet was somewhat improved, but that Miss Elizabeth had requested paper and pen, and had written a note taken to Longbourn, asking that their mother come so she could form her own judgement of the situation.

  Caroline closed her eyes upon hearing this, and Genney moved a step back, thinking, no doubt, that her mistress wished to sleep some more. Caroline was fully awake; she had closed her eyes in pain at hearing that her home was to be once again assailed by the presence of Mrs Bennet.

  When Caroline finished dressing, and Genney had made up her hair for the day, Caroline ventured out to Jane’s room. Even before she drew close enough to open the door, her ears were filled with the sounds of Bennets, many of them, and all speaking at once. Squaring her shoulders, she entered the room and saw not only Mrs Bennet, but the two youngest Miss Bennets, also. She closed her eyes for a moment, se
eking a moment of peace that she knew might be the last she would experience for some time.

  Her moment was cut short by Mrs Bennet’s approach. ‘Jane wished to return home, but I will not hear of it. She is much too ill to be moved.’

  Caroline looked over at Jane, who was sitting up in bed and trying to listen to her youngest sisters as they both spoke at the same time. Fortunately for Jane, both sisters talked only of officers, and so it wasn’t difficult to follow the two verbal streams.

  Jane did look somewhat better, Caroline thought. Her face was less flushed, and her eyes were clearer. She still looked very tired, though, and when she attempted to respond to one sister or another’s comments, she often was unable due to coughing.

  After a few moments, Caroline observed there was another person in the room. Mr Jones, looking a little overwhelmed, was just packing up his bag. Caroline approached him, trailed by Mrs Bennet.

  ‘The apothecary agrees with me,’ Mrs Bennet said, raising her voice to a seemingly impossible volume in order to be heard over Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty. ‘Jane must not be moved. The risk is too great.’

  Caroline glanced at Mr Jones and he, as if understanding her concerns, gave a reluctant nod. ‘Miss Bennet is indeed much improved,’ he began, but was interrupted by Mrs Bennet.

  ‘How can you say such a thing? Improved indeed! She is so pale and thin, practically wasting away. Just look at her.’

  They all turned to survey Jane, who was laughing at something Lydia had just told her.

  Mr Jones cleared his throat. ‘As I said, she is,’ he glanced at Mrs Bennet, ‘somewhat improved. A little improved. A very little. I believe, though it would be best to permit her to continue to rest and receive care here. She will then gain strength before she is transported home.’

  The revelation that there would continue to be Bennets in the house threatened to bring on a headache, and realising she needed fortification, Caroline suggested the Bennets accompany her to the breakfast parlour. Mrs Bennet and the two youngest accepted with alacrity. Elizabeth, after a brief murmured conversation with Jane, accompanied them.

  As soon as they entered that room, Charles, who had apparently been pacing up and down in front of the sideboard without taking any food, and preventing Mr Darcy from taking any either, since he blocked the way, turned to them and said, ‘I trust, Mrs Bennet, that you did not find your daughter worse than expected.’ He gazed at her, his brown eyes wide and hopeful.

  ‘Indeed I have, sir,’ was her answer. ‘She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr Jones says we must not think of moving her.’ She sank down into a chair, fanning herself with her hand, and appearing to suffer a great deal more distress than did Jane. ‘We must trespass,’ she said in a weak voice, ‘a little longer on your kindness.’

  Caroline, who was relieved to learn that Mrs Bennet could speak at a lesser volume, looked at her brother and shrugged.

  He ignored her; indeed, he appeared to have not noticed her entry into the room. ‘Removed!’ he cried. ‘It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal.’

  Caroline, who’d been making her way towards the sideboard, longing for a piece of toast, turned back and said with cold civility, ‘You may depend upon it, madam, that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she remains with us.’

  ‘Oh, I thank you from the bottom of my heart,’ Mrs Bennet cried, her volume once again sufficient that no doubt her husband, back at Longbourn, could hear every word she spoke.

  Caroline smiled, moving her lips as little as possible, and once again faced the sideboard. Her goal was not achieved for Mrs Bennet continued, forcing Caroline to once again turn back politely.

  ‘I am sure,’ Mrs Bennet said, ‘if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I ever met with.’ She paused to draw in a breath, and looked about the parlour. ‘You have a sweet room here, Mr Bingley, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield.’ She stood and approached the sideboard. Before Caroline could so much as request a cup of tea, she had the footman filling her a plate. Sitting down at the table, she cracked open a boiled egg, and asked Charles, ‘You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease.’

  He now appeared in much better spirits, no doubt because Jane would not be departing. He waved to Caroline to precede him to the sideboard, and she was at last able to gain tea and a plate of food. ‘Whatever I do is in a hurry,’ he replied to Mrs Bennet, ‘and therefore, if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.’

  Elizabeth smiled at him. ‘That is exactly what I would have supposed of you.’

  ‘You begin to comprehend me, do you?’ he said with a laugh.

  ‘Oh! yes, I understand you perfectly.’ There was much merriment in her voice, and Caroline observed that Mr Darcy who, as usual when in the presence of Bennets, had withdrawn to the window, turned to look at her.

  ‘I wish I might take this for a compliment,’ Charles said, moving to select his breakfast now that everyone else was eating, for the two younger Miss Bennets had been quick to follow their mother and were eagerly downing toast and eggs. ‘But to be so easily seen through,’ he added, ‘I am afraid is pitiful.’

  Mr Darcy, Caroline noted, had not eaten yet, but he had also not attempted to gain access to the sideboard.

  ‘That is as it happens,’ Elizabeth said. ‘It does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.’

  Caroline was happy to see her brother returned to good spirits, for he had been distraught ever since he learned of Jane’s illness. Still, Miss Eliza was once again showing her impertinence.

  Her mother apparently thought so also, for she cut in, ‘Lizzy, remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.’

  Elizabeth said nothing more, and Mrs Bennet began repeating her thanks to Charles for his kindness to Jane, and apologised for troubling him also with Lizzy.

  Charles, as always, was gracious, even to someone like her. ‘It is no trouble at all. Please do not think so for a moment. I am delighted to offer any assistance I can. And I know my sister feels the same as I do.’ He looked meaningfully at Caroline and she stepped into the role he created for her.

  ‘Of course. Dear Jane is our friend, and you are our neighbours. In the country, I am sure that neighbours look out for one another.’ She did the best she could with her smile, and it seemed to satisfy Mrs Bennet, for she beamed at everyone present, and then asked that her carriage be called.

  The two younger girls had been busy eating and staring around the room and at all the people within it. Now, realising the visit was about to come to an end, Miss Lydia stood and addressed Charles. ‘Thank you for breakfast, it was very good. I hope you have not forgotten that you promised us a ball at Netherfield.’ She approached where he was seated, and placed her hand on his shoulder. Leaning over so she could smile into his face, she said in what she probably thought was a whisper, ‘You must keep your word, you know, for it will be the most shameful thing in the world if you do not.’

  ‘I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill.’

  Miss Kitty gasped in pleasure, but Lydia paused a moment, as if Charles’ last thought had not occurred to her. Caroline was certain that Lydia would be willing to dance or do anything else she thought would give her pleasure, no matter how many of her relatives were lying in a sick bed. Nonetheless, Lydia stood back and clapped her hands together. ‘That is ex
actly as it should be. I am completely satisfied with your response, Mr Bingley. It would be much better to wait until Jane is well, and by that time, most likely, Captain Carter will be at Meryton again.’ Her smile grew wider at this thought, and Caroline raised her eyebrows at Louisa. No wonder the horrible girl was willing to let time pass for her eldest sister to recover. It was not altruism; it had to do with officers.

  ‘And when you have given your ball,’ Lydia considered, almost bouncing on her feet in her excitement, ‘I shall insist on the officers giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.’ She seized Kitty’s hands and the two danced around in a circle, causing one of the footmen to step hastily aside, so they didn’t tread on his feet. He was quick-witted, Caroline noted with approval, for he also thought to snatch a pink vase of flowers off a side table, just before Lydia bumped the table with her hip.

  Finally, Caroline could draw in a deep breath, for Charles escorted the Bennets to their carriage and they all departed, with the exception, of course, of Miss Elizabeth. She returned to her sister, leaving the breakfast parlour mercifully empty of any but the immediate family and Mr Darcy, who was considered family by everyone, since he was as a brother to Charles. Not to Caroline, though, her relationship with him was most definitely not that of siblings.

  To emphasise this, Caroline smiled at him when he returned to the table. ‘At last, Mr Darcy,’ she said, ‘you can eat in peace without constant interruptions from that horrible woman and her equally horrible daughters. And no more insults will come your way either. I could hardly believe that such a person exists as that Mrs Bennet. Has she no sense of propriety at all?’

  ‘Clearly not,’ Mr Darcy said, scraping jam onto a piece of toast.

  ‘Is that toast cold?’ Caroline asked, gesturing to the quick-witted footman. ‘John can fetch you a fresh slice.’

  ‘It is no matter.’ Mr Darcy rested his hands protectively over his plate, removing them and beginning to eat only when John stepped back to his place beside the sideboard.