Miss Bingley Requests

by Judy McCrosky

  He raised a brow. ‘He is a particular friend of yours, is he not, Miss Bingley? Surely I could seek no better reference than that!’

  She stared at him a moment, wondering if there could possibly be a touch of sarcasm in his voice, but his countenance showed only the polite interest used by all couples when they conversed during a dance. Glancing back at Mr Tryphon, she saw him say something that won him a laugh from Georgiana. His response to that revealed far more than polite interest, his eyes fixed on that lovely young face, and Caroline had to swallow suddenly to keep an acidic burn arising from her stomach.

  Resolved to look no more down the line of dancers, she fixed her eyes on Mr Darcy, admiring his erect carriage, the noble tilt of his head as he turned, the way he stood at least half a head taller than almost all the other gentlemen. There was no gathering, not in any court in the whole world, in which he would be out of place. A surge of pride welled up inside her, as she pictured herself on his arm, equally at home in those royal palaces.

  At the end of the dance, Caroline took his arm, and instead of returning her to a chair, Mr Darcy permitted her to accompany him as he walked to where his sister stood. As they approached, Mr Tryphon bent his head to whisper something into Georgiana’s ear, his lips close enough that Caroline could see a wisp of her hair dance from the movement of his breath. Mr Darcy must have observed this also, for she felt his forearm tighten under her fingertips.

  As Mr Tryphon moved back from Georgiana, she turned and spotted her brother. Instantly her face lit up, and Caroline wondered how she could have thought her earlier smiles revealed any joy at all compared to this one. ‘Brother,’ Georgiana cried, ‘I am so happy to be here. Thank you again for permitting me to attend.’

  He smiled in turn, never able to be severe when in her presence. ‘I am glad you enjoyed the concert so much, my dearest, but it is time we returned home.’

  Instantly her expression clouded. ‘Must we leave so soon? Lady Amesbury told me that Mr Scott Allen specifically requested that I play for him.’ She clasped her hands in front of her breast. ‘It is too great an honour, I know I shall play very ill indeed, but I cannot refuse such a great musician.’

  As if the sound of her name had drawn her close, Eleanor stepped to Mr Darcy’s other side. Taking his arm, she looked beseechingly at him. ‘Please, it is yet early. And the maestro truly does wish to hear Georgiana.’

  ‘Really? And how did his request come about? He cannot have known about Georgiana before this evening, and the concert was for him to play for us, not for his audience to play for him.’

  Eleanor looked down, seemingly a little embarrassed. ‘It is my doing, I confess.’ She lifted her head, darting a saucy smile at him. ‘But you cannot fault me, for he asked me who would be in attendance this evening, and I could not resist singing Miss Darcy’s praises. Indeed, no one who has heard her play could possibly resist speaking in glowing terms about her delicate touch on the keys and the emotion she can draw from them.’

  Georgiana rested a hand on her brother’s chest, clutching the lapel of his forest green jacket. ‘Please, the maestro is the best musician I have ever heard, it would mean so much to me to hear his suggestions on how I can improve.’

  Mr Darcy frowned at Eleanor. ‘I am not in the habit of being blind-sided. In the future, you will be certain to speak with me in any matter affecting Miss Darcy.’

  Looking abashed, she nodded.

  ‘And when is this command performance to take place?’ he asked.

  Eleanor truly did seem subdued. ‘It can be now, if that is your wish,’ she said, her voice flat, without any of the merriment it usually held.

  ‘Very well.’ Ignoring Mr Tryphon, Mr Darcy took Georgiana’s hand, practically pushing Eleanor away as he slipped it through his arm. Turning to Caroline, who still clutched his other arm, he nodded. ‘Miss Bingley.’

  Recognising her cue, she released his arm and curtseyed. ‘Mr Darcy.’ Eleanor and the Darcys moved through the crowd towards a room Caroline knew held another pianoforte, leaving Caroline alone with Mr Tryphon.

  They regarded one another for a moment. Their former easy camaraderie appeared to have evaporated, and the silence became awkward, but Caroline was determined to not be the first to speak. It appeared that he also had made the same resolution, but he was no match for her.

  At length his resolve, as she knew it would, crumbled. ‘I trust you enjoyed the performances?’ he said, looking in her direction but not meeting her eyes. She chose not to respond and rather than dealing with further silence, he hurried on. ‘This is yet another of Eleanor’s most successful parties, but I thought the concert was a high point that even she will be hard pressed to top in the future.’

  Realising that if she ignored him any longer she would be opening herself to accusations of impolite behaviour, she raised her chin. ‘I very much enjoyed the performances.’ Then, fixing him with an unblinking regard, she added, ‘Some more than others.’

  He coloured slightly, and she knew her barb had hit home. With the total lack of dissembling that she so admired in him, because it meant he could be open about his feelings for her instead of hiding everything under a society-imposed façade, his expression changed to one of shame. ‘I deserve that. I have behaved abominably towards you, and you had every reason to expect more from me. Can you forgive me?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, looking abruptly away, as if something to the side was far more interesting than anything he might have to say. She did, however, permit a small trace of thaw to enter into her voice.

  ‘I acted as I did at Eleanor’s request,’ he said, and at that her attention returned to him. ‘Oh no,’ he added when he saw her horrified expression, ‘she did not ask me to do anything at all that could hurt you, dearest Miss Bingley. She merely wished me to ensure that Miss Darcy felt welcomed in her house, and that I act in such a way as to ensure her comfort and enjoyment during the evening. Any fault is mine alone, for I fear I went beyond what was required, and in ensuring Miss Darcy’s happiness I ignorantly trampled upon your own.’ He held out a hand.

  She drew in a breath, and the action raised her bosom so that it filled her décolletage before the exhalation let it retreat to its usual position. His long hair was worn loose as usual, and errant curls framed his face, giving him the appearance of a mischievous boy who has been caught out but knows his charm will prevent any real punishment. Part of her wanted to let him see that he was an adult, and so his actions did have true consequences, but his smile widened, he tilted his head to the side, and he permitted his outstretched hand to just barely brush her forearm. Even through her glove, a jolt of heat ran up into her throat. Unable for a moment to breathe, she sighed, taking in an even deeper breath before letting the air out, enjoying how his eyes strayed below her neck before quickly returning to her face.

  ‘Please,’ he said, ‘my future happiness rests in your hands.’

  She lifted her chin again, revelling in the moment. She’d always known of the power a woman could hold over a man, but never before had she used it so blatantly. At the same time a small flicker of disappointment flared in her mind, and she realised she was disappointed that even Mr Tryphon could fall prey to such tactics. Still, he was her friend and the only man who, even though she loved Mr Darcy, had helped her understand the sensations some books had described.

  Mr Tryphon cleared his throat, and Caroline realised he’d been waiting for some time to learn if she would bestow forgiveness on him. She stared at him for another moment, gratified to see his face lose colour, for he could only fear that she could not accept what he had done. She smiled then, and said, ‘You are my friend. I cannot despise you.’

  He seized her hand and raised it to his lips, and if his touch on her arm had seemed warm, it was nothing compared to the fire that surged through her from the heat of his lips and the moisture of his breath. He then turned her hand and pressed his mouth to her palm, and she came the closest she had ever come to fainting.<
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  Caroline prided herself on never having fainted, scorning those who were so fragile they lost consciousness instead of facing what life chose to throw at them. She gritted her teeth and stared firmly off into the distance until the dizziness passed and she was able to smile at Mr Tryphon as he reluctantly released her hand.

  As they stood together, chatting as amiably as they ever had, Caroline heard a surge in the conversation at the far end of the room, and looked over to see the Darcys, Eleanor, and the maestro leaving the room where they’d been closeted while Georgiana played for the maestro.

  Mr Tryphon hurried away from her, without even bowing, and she stood frozen, bewildered by the sudden change. What was going on? She had forgiven him, even though he had treated her very badly. Did that mean he felt it was all right to continue to treat her badly?

  She resolved that her friendship with him was no longer important, but at the thought a cold wind arose in her chest, and it dissipated only when she recalled the heat of his mouth on her palm. Never before had she encountered a contact that so completely joined another person’s body to hers. Suddenly all that had happened, her dismay at seeing his attentions to Georgiana made sense. She was jealous!

  But how could that be, when it was Mr Darcy she loved? She thought again of what the books had said about love, about the shortness of breath and dizziness it could cause. Those sensations came over her in the presence of only one man, and he was not Mr Darcy.

  Caroline moved to where an empty settee stood by the side of the room, and sank into it, heedless that her gown was twisted beneath her and so would wrinkle. How could she be in love with Mr Tryphon?

  She realised she was sitting with her shoulders slumped, and resolutely raised herself into the proper posture. Standing, she smoothed her gown over her hips. This did not matter. Loving Mr Tryphon could change nothing. She would still marry Mr Darcy. Most women, she knew, loved men other than their husbands. And, if Eleanor’s parties were anything to judge by, plenty of men loved women other than their wives. Caroline and Mr Darcy, of course, would learn to love each other and so would not be tempted by other people. Somehow, Caroline suspected she would never be able to stop loving Mr Tryphon. It didn’t matter. Caroline would never be unfaithful to Mr Darcy, just as he would never be unfaithful to her.

  She looked across the room, to where Georgiana was speaking in an animated fashion, closely attended by her brother and Mr Tryphon. Just the sight of him tightened her throat. He was not so tall as Mr Darcy, nor were his shoulders as broad, but his figure was manly and elegant, and it drew her eyes in a way Mr Darcy’s form never had. She would, Caroline decided, permit herself to enjoy his company, but not one sign of her feelings would show. She would continue as she had, prodding Mr Darcy to propose. Nothing could stand in the way of that marriage, for it represented the only way Caroline could improve her standing in life, and that was the only ambition she could affect. All her education, all her intelligence and other accomplishments were powerless to do anything but assist her in making the most advantageous marriage. Mr Tryphon, despite his fine manners and costly clothing, had never mentioned an estate, a club membership, or any of the trappings that went with being a wealthy young man about town. Even if he did have an estate, it could be nothing compared to Pemberley. No, no matter how much her heart urged her towards him, it was with Mr Darcy that her future lay, and nothing could be permitted to prevent her from taking that path.

  Chapter Nine

  The next evening, when the Bingleys and the Darcys gathered for dinner, Georgiana could speak of nothing but the maestro. Indeed, Caroline had never heard the girl speak so many words in one evening. She leaned over to Louisa, who sat nearby, and said, ‘Miss Darcy needs to be reminded that a young person does not monopolise the conversation in this manner.’

  Louisa appeared surprised, but said only, ‘The maestro’s compliments offer a taste of what life has in store for her. A young woman as lovely as she, and with the fortune she possesses, will never lack the acclaim of society. She will learn, and no doubt will become as jaded as any of us.’

  ‘I am not jaded!’ Caroline said, seemingly in an overly loud voice, for everyone turned to look at her. She concentrated on her food, until they returned to their own meals and conversations. ‘Whatever do you mean?’ she asked Louisa, more decorously.

  ‘I think it would be wearisome to be always in the spotlight.’ Louisa stabbed a forkful of duck. ‘I would not exchange my position in the world for any amount of titles or honours.’ She raised the duck, dripping with orange sauce, to her lips.

  ‘I am speechless,’ Caroline said. ‘How can you say that, you who married for wealth and position? How can you deny that a larger estate or richer purse would not tempt you if you were not yet wed?’

  Louisa raised her napkin to her mouth. ‘I can deny it. I married as I had to, for the family and for myself. I did well. But I am not going to spend the rest of my life always wanting more than I have. I am not going to spend one second wishing for what I do not have. I have Mr Hurst and I prefer to focus on all that I have achieved instead of on what I have not.’

  Caroline thought for a moment, covering her tangled thoughts by taking a bite of duck herself. Self-sacrifice—that is, after all, the role of a woman. That is what I am doing also. By denying my feelings for Mr Tryphon and resolving to accept Mr Darcy, for whom I feel deep affection, certainly. Her thoughts wandered for a moment, as she realised how pale her feelings for Mr Darcy were compared to what she felt for Mr Tryphon. However, by accepting Mr Darcy, I am doing what is best for the family. A link to the foremost family in Derbyshire will greatly benefit the Bingleys. And when the link is two-fold, when Charles marries Georgiana, there will be nothing to stand in our way. Soon, the Bingleys will be spoken of with as much respect and envy as are the Darcys.

  ‘I am happy for you,’ she said at last to Louisa. ‘I envy your ability to attain happiness, and admire what you have done for the family.’

  Louisa scraped up the last orange sauce with her last piece of meat. ‘You will find happiness too.’ Dropping her fork, she turned to Caroline and took both her hands. Looking sidelong down the table to where Mr Darcy sat, she added, ‘I suspect it will not be so very difficult for you to find.’

  The sisters laughed, and suddenly Caroline was happy. Why would anyone be sorry to lose Mr Tryphon when a man such as Darcy was to be hers? No, happiness was not so very difficult to find at all.

  Later, when the ladies retired to the parlour, Georgiana shyly told Caroline and Louisa that the maestro had offered to give her some lessons on the pianoforte. ‘He is to be in London some weeks longer, staying with Lady Amesbury. He told me that if I come to her home every other day at five o’clock, accompanied by my brother, he will teach me.’ She clasped her hands together in joy. ‘Oh, just think how much I shall learn. And, how honoured I am that such a man would take notice of one such as me.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Caroline said, although she was surprised to hear of this offer. Why had Eleanor not mentioned it? ‘You are a very good musician, and a good teacher is always delighted to find a student worthy of his efforts.’

  The gentlemen joined them at that point, and Caroline studied Mr Darcy curiously. Had he truly agreed to his sister returning to Eleanor’s house on a regular basis? And why did the lessons have to take place there? The Darcys’ pianoforte was a very fine instrument. If the lessons were held in the Darcy house, Mr Darcy would not have to be inconvenienced by the necessity of escorting his sister to Eleanor’s home.

  She was called by Mr Hurst to make up a table for cards, and it was not until later, when she and the Hursts returned to Grosvenor Street, that she had further time for reflection.

  Surely, Eleanor knew having the lessons take place in her house would be inconvenient. There would be the sounds caused by the musicians on the piano, and Mr Darcy could not be left entirely to his own devices while he waited to take Georgiana home again.

  Mr Darcy, his own d
evices—slowly a thought grew. He would need to be entertained. Perhaps that was why Eleanor was so interested in the younger sister of one of her less-frequent guests. Eleanor was at present unmarried, enjoying the scandal of hosting so many entertainments all on her own. Could she be thinking of the benefits of taking another husband?—A wealthy husband?

  Surely that could not be true. Eleanor had plenty of her own money, it showed in every facet of her home, in every meticulously planned detail of her parties. She had no need for a man in her life, as she had often told Caroline. A man would only tie her down, prevent her from partaking in all the enjoyments she could grasp in her own two hands.