by Anne Morris
His aunt had a new parson. The Reverend Stockton, though not that old, had succumbed to some illness and lay buried in the churchyard. His widow and two daughters had moved to the Hunsford village. Darcy's aunt had given the living to the most ridiculous man Darcy had the audacity to spend an evening with. This man was pompous and arrogant, a man who enjoyed food, and drink, and his Aunt's table whenever she would share it. He was conceited, not well educated, and appeared to be, this Mr. Collins, considering one of the late Reverend Stockton's young daughters as a potential helpmate and wife. An activity in which he was very much encouraged by his aunt. Darcy was quite disgusted by his aunt's involvement in this young man's affairs, almost as if he were a puppet on strings to control and play with, but Lady Catherine seemed to enjoy having this slavish gentleman forever attending her.
It was not until his last week in Kent that he made a startling discovery, this Mr. Collins spoke about how he had once had great expectations in life, which had been cut short a few years ago, because his master had had a late-in-life child. Darcy discovered that Mr. Collins used to be Mr. Bennet's heir and was to have inherited Longbourn estate because it had been entailed away from the daughters. But the birth of Simon Bennet had cut him off.
It was just as Mr. Collins was leaving school with expectations he had believed his due, ones that he had been born with—to be a landowner and a gentleman—when he heard that he would need to find some other occupation in life. It was a subject about which he could talk for hours, including lengthy lamentations on losing an inheritance that should have been rightfully his. Darcy was quite disgusted with the man, for he felt such a thing should never have been considered a 'rightful' inheritance unless one is the son of the landowner.
It surely did not help that this man was in no way likable, especially in his attentions to the two Stockton daughters, who were eighteen and sixteen, as if Mr. Collins were some knight errant who would be helping their mother out by marrying one of them. His aunt had gone so far as to invite the Stocktons to have tea with his Cousin Anne one day. As near as Darcy could figure out, both of them were quite disgusted with this young man, but the parson seemed quite oblivious to the fact that neither of the two ladies admired him, nor wished for his attentions.
And though Darcy so often found young ladies' manners of that age wearing, he felt sorry for them, and spent the afternoon talking to them. They seemed to understand that he was so far above their company that he did not have any designs on them; they were simply grateful to converse with Darcy. Mr. Collins seemed to be in awe of him, and of two minds as to why the illustrious Mr. Darcy was pursuing the Stockton sisters. Darcy considered the perversity of being in yet another area of the country, and yet still being reminded of Elizabeth Bennet with this introduction to a distant relative, would he never be free of her?
Seventeen
—
Mr. Bingley Returns
Bingley and Darcy had corresponded, and though Charles had said that he kept considering returning to Hertfordshire, he never had the initiative to do so. Darcy felt, as his friend, that he should pay him a call, and discuss what had been stated that evening of the Netherfield ball.
His duty to his aunt had ended, he left Rosings Park, and rather than returning directly to Pemberley, he went to London to call on that friend. He invited Bingley over for a companionable dinner, just the two men. Before the meal they sat, drinks in hand, to talk.
"And how are you doing, Charles?" asked Darcy.
"I am well," replied his friend with a dismissive tone.
"Are you Charles?" pressed Darcy.
"Caroline's commitments have finally slowed—there has been a lull before the Season begins in earnest. I have not been called upon to escort her anywhere recently," said Bingley.
"That is good, I suppose," remarked Darcy, who had not exactly wished to be speak about Miss Bingley right then. He tackled the subject he wanted, "have you made any plans, as you had written, to return to Netherfield?"
Bingley looked at him sideways then back at the sherry in his hand, "truly I do not know what I intend to do with the lease at Netherfield."
"When we departed, Bingley, you had stated an intention to come to London because of Smythe's race, but that turned out to be no contest, Crockford's bay was always going to win. But you said you also intended to think more about Miss Jane Bennet, and to consider whether or not your actions were leading you towards marriage."
This time, Bingley looked at him fully, and with obvious surprise. "I had thought that you did not approve of my choice, nor did you think that Jane Bennet admired me overly much."
"Did I ever say such a thing?" replied Darcy, with a little more haste than usual.
"But…but I thought," sputtered Bingley, "but you implied when we spoke…"
"I never said that I did not approve of your choice. It has been obvious to me that Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley do not think overly much of Jane Bennet," he shifted in his chair, "and they have stated, in my hearing, their reasons for why she is not the smartest of choices in their eyes. But if your heart speaks to you, truly, I do not know that you could do worse."
"But what about her affection for me?" said Bingley. He looked down at his waistcoat and fiddled with his buttons. But then, perhaps because it was an important topic—he was after all, deciding on the subject of his bride—he looked over at his friend.
"I had said to you that you needed to consider that this lady is so even-tempered that it was difficult to discern her real affection. Her nature is such that she is pleasant to everyone, hence it is difficult to determine her particular regard," and here he minced his words a little, "in consideration, I have thought that she does care for you." And after he said those five words, he saw his friend's face awash with light and happiness at the prospect of love from such a beautiful creature.
"You believe she does!" cried Bingley who sat forward eagerly in his chair.
"Yes, as I thought more about it, as I thought how she acts in your presence, I do. She is overly quiet when she is with you; she blushes a great deal, and stares either at her hands in her lap, or directly into your eyes. All of which are actions that she does not display with any other gentleman, and, I believe, are often indicative of a lady who admires a young man," said his friend.
"Darcy!" cried Bingley, who beamed even more.
"I do believe that she admires you beyond any other gentleman I have seen her with. I must remind you that it was the affection of a month's acquaintance only, and it might have cooled since you have come away. Such an occurrence does happen." Darcy did not feel that this was the time to point out how often his young friend had fallen helplessly and desperately in love with some lady, only to find that the affection cooled significantly and rather quickly after they had left a place behind. But he could see happiness on his friend's face at the prospect of wooing his beautiful angel, and as Darcy had once thought, the angel metaphor was a new one.
They spent most of their dinner discussing Bingley's plans to return then to Hertfordshire. Bingley was ready to pack up and to leave in a day, but Darcy reminded him that he needed to allow the housekeeper time to prepare for his visit. It was not like an inn, where he could show up and have everything waiting for him, like food, so he needed to give Mrs. Nicholls sufficient time for his reception.
It was, perhaps, a good thing that Miss Bingley was firmly committed to being in Town for the Season, since May was almost upon them. She could stay with the Hursts in their London house, be chaperoned by her sister, and did not need Charles' arm in escort. He was free to woo Jane Bennet and without the eagle eyes, and the evil advice, of his twin sister.
Darcy stayed in town long enough to help his friend pack, to see him off to Hertfordshire, and then he, himself, headed off to Derbyshire, making one quick side trip before he went: checking on the lists of ladies who had been presented to Queen Charlotte in 1806 before leaving.
• • •
Mr. Bingley's imminent return t
o Netherfield was once again relayed to Longbourn by Mrs. Philips, and it caused the same level of excitement it had back in September. Mrs. Bennet turned her attention away from her other children, and once again focused on the beauty that was Jane Bennet. This time with the intention of seeing her married.
She had heard the tales of their adventures in Christchurch though no husbands had been secured. It seemed incredible to Mrs. Bennet that of all of them, it had been Mary that excited the attentions of a particular gentleman but, of course, he did not ask for her. Perhaps he had discovered the lack of fortune, or it had been a ruse, and Mr. Joslin had been more enchanted with Jane and Catherine. For, "who could not fail to see how lovely they are in comparison to how plain Mary is."
Catherine did not say much about her time in Christchurch though she usually was someone who was more talkative about her social outings. Mrs. Bennet thought it odd that Catherine had not boasted of any beau when she had many, mostly officers, in Meryton.
• • •
Lydia, bold and brash, introduced the subject of Mr. Bingley's return at home, "so Jane, your Mr. Bingley is coming back," she said, "all of us have been away, but none of us came back with husbands. I find that very difficult to believe. Not that I did not try when I was away, but Mamma and Elizabeth tried just as hard to prevent my meeting officers. And I had Miss Simnel keeping an eye on me and lecturing me ever so many times, telling me I was too young to be flirting with officers, but I can assure you that there were many officers because there was a barracks in Scarborough!"
"There were one or two in Mudeford," replied Mary, "but there are always one or two officers anywhere one goes these days. You know Lydia, they were army officers in Scarborough, but they are militia officers here; there is a difference." Lydia ignored her sister's pedantic comment.
"We did meet a few officers and some gentlemen," said Jane, who was attempting to keep the conversation civil. "Mrs. Perkins has a small circle of acquaintance and introduced us."
"But most of them were quite old," said Catherine. "The young men of the type of which Mamma would approve, we met at Mudeford." Then she broke into a grin which looked quite like the one Lydia was sporting.
"That is true," said Mary, "Mr. Joslin was met when we had a rare sunny day, and we were looking at the beach front."
"Was that your gentleman?" asked Elizabeth, and Mary blushed. She thought it odd to consider Mary having a suitor.
"But it still did you no good, none of you came back married or engaged even!" exclaimed Lydia. "I do not understand any of you. Have none of you had a man show interest, or are you all like Lizzy, who has men show interest in her, but they turn out to be men who are not interested in marriage!" That got the sisters to sit up and exclaim, because Elizabeth had not shared her particular interactions with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wolton-Fane.
"What do you mean?" asked Jane.
"Lizzy would often go out walking with Mr. Darcy, and she had a long curricle ride with Mr. Peterson's secretary!"
"A curricle ride," said Catherine whose eyes went wide. "I have never been on a curricle ride with a gentleman." The hint of jealousy was obvious in her voice.
"But Lizzy assured us that neither of them had any interest in her for all that Mr. Wolton-Fane danced with her twice in the Long Room," cried Lydia. "I thought that he admired her, but it came to nothing." Elizabeth had to blush at her memories of that night.
"I believe I am destined to be an old maid," proclaimed Elizabeth, yet again.
• • •
Mrs. Hill brought her news from one of the maids, who had news from one of the cook's girls, that Mr. Bingley had arrived. Mrs. Bennet had magnificent expectations of Bingley and Jane again, and his return was much talked about in Meryton. At just about the same time, Colonel Forster announced that the militia was to move their headquarters to Brighton. Meryton seemed to have suffered from a dearth of news (there had been a want of it, for everybody who had been away had come back and their trips discussed in detail) and they had all been wishing for something to talk about. Both of these bits of news had everyone in town excited.
Elizabeth could tell that her sister Jane was uncomfortable to be the subject of so much gossip, and Jane tried as hard as ever to be reserved when the topic of Mr. Bingley and his residence in the area was introduced into anyone's parlor. Elizabeth had a great deal of sympathy for her. She knew that Jane still admired Mr. Bingley deeply; she could hear Jane and Mary talking in their room late at night, catching snippets of conversation through the walls, or in corners of the drawing room.
The militia's leaving was much talked about at Longbourn as well. Catherine had become the particular friend to Colonel Forster's new wife, and the extent of that friendship was revealed when Kitty received an invitation to come away with the Forsters when the entire militia removed to Brighton. For a few day,s Catherine's possibilities had outweighed Jane's in Mrs. Bennet's eyes and mind, until news came of Mr. Bingley's actual appearance in town.
Lydia, of course, thought that she ought to be invited to Brighton by Mrs. Forster, since Catherine had been invited, and she was vociferous in her lamentations on the subject and routinely corrected about her outbursts by Miss Simnel. It was pointed out that though she was allowed out in society, she had not formally been given permission to leave the nursery, and if she wished to do so, she should not be speaking out of turn. Lydia then argued that she was simply emulating her mother, and poor Miss Simnel was caught by having to say that Mrs. Bennet was not the best person to emulate in this case, and it was her father whom she had to impress.
There had been hints that Miss Darcy had given in her letters about Lydia coming to Pemberley for a visit, and though part of Lydia wished to argue more about going to Brighton—it was in her nature to argue—Lydia found that she could hold her tongue, if she had the prospect of going to Pemberley for a visit. So Kitty would go south with the regiment, and Lydia would stay at Longbourn and wait for an invitation to head north.
• • •
Mr. Bingley arrived on the first of May and by the sixth of May all was resolved between him and Jane; everything happily concluded. Everyone in town had an opinion about the two of them, everyone had an opinion as to his coming back, everyone had an opinion as to why he had left in the first place, and to how quickly an engagement occurred on his return. And if Jane disliked being the topic of gossip before; she was certainly the topic of much gossip now. But having secured Mr. Bingley, she had a certain comfort now with her engagement, and was able to tolerate it. It threw Mrs. Bennet into such spirits of contentment, good cheer and optimism with planning the wedding, emotions that the family had not seen in her in almost a twelvemonth.
Mrs. Bennet was not in a hurry for the wedding to take place, but needed to ensure it occurred to maximize the benefit to her family. The wedding clothes were to be obtained and displayed to any well-wishers who called; fabric orders had been placed, and the local seamstress, Mrs. Heard, was hard at work. The banns were due to be proclaimed each Sunday when news came from London to say that his sister, his twin sister—which had surprised many to discover that Charles and Caroline Bingley were twins—was to be married as well, and that she had set a date at the end of June which put some pressure on this wedding to occur.
Despite their betrothal occurring first, they had yet to have settled on a date. It also meant that the planned wedding trip for Jane and Mr. Bingley needed to be postponed, for they would need to travel straight to London for his sister's wedding at St. George's before they were permitted the freedom of their extended wedding trip.
Mrs. Bennet felt cheated by Mr. Bingley's sister, and having to hold the wedding sooner than she wished, and she began to declare, "that was the very day we were going to have the wedding!" She spoke of the rivalry that surely must be an aspect of being a twin. She went around Meryton visiting with such an attitude, and Elizabeth worked hard to suppress her mother's feelings, as she felt it did not reflect well on their family to lament Caroline
Bingley's choice of wedding day, both days should be days of celebrations and not ones of lamentation.
The consequence of her sister's betrothal was the fact that Mr. Darcy was assuredly to be invited to the wedding, and Elizabeth prepared herself to see him again. She had not set eyes on him since his proposal to her in Scarborough. She heard small details from Lydia about Georgiana's activities, and knew that while Georgiana had been at Pemberley with Mrs. Young; the young woman often complained that she was there alone. Elizabeth imagined Mr. Darcy had gone to London for the Season. But then she heard there was happier news from Georgiana; he had returned to Pemberley, and she was to accompany her brother to Hertfordshire. Elizabeth realized she would need to tolerate the great man's presence sooner rather than later.
• • •
The neighborhood had been so welcoming. Wickham had lines of credit in practically every tradesman's shop. There were the pretty daughters of those tradesmen with whom to flirt, and the Cock and Bottle pub barmaid, Nora, was certainly a charitable girl. He could not fault his time in the Monmouthshire militia, though it had been far too much like work when he had envisioned being an officer; he had not envisioned drilling enlisted men and having to practice soldiering!
Everyone felt the threat of Napoleon; the army was still struggling on the Peninsula. The Coalition on the Continent worked at fighting the French forces, so common folk panicked at thoughts of a French invasion. Colonel Forster insisted that it was necessary they train, and Wickham had never envisioned such a thing would ever occur, particularly not in the heart of the country—training and drilling and giving orders in all weathers. He had, of course, heard Forster announce that they were to go to Brighton, and that move made far more sense—that they guard the shores rather than the countryside. He was looking forward to moving.