by Wynne Mabry
Anne scowled at this display of affection. She very coldly acknowledged her introduction to Jane and treated Elizabeth as the barest acquaintance.
When her hostess kindly asked how her journey had been, she replied, “Very uncomfortable indeed. November is a dreadful month for travelling. I am excessively chilled.”
“You must come and sit by the fire at once,” Mr. Bingley said, offering her his arm.
She declined to take it, reaching for her companion’s arm instead. His suggestion was not to her liking either. “I do not care for sitting beside fires. There is a danger of overheating.”
Once they were inside, he recommended a seat that was not too close to the fire, but still in the warmer part of the room, but then she complained of feeling a draft. Another place did not suit her either, and Mr. Bingley was momentarily at a loss, but then she satisfied herself by directing Mrs. Jenkinson to move some chairs about. They ended up quite close to the fire after all.
“I must have a screen,” she demanded next, and in a voice which suggested that there was nothing at all wrong with her. “A couple of screens, I think.”
Screens were quickly provided and arranged to Anne’s liking by Mrs. Jenkinson, who bustled about for several minutes before taking a seat herself. There was a third chair in the grouping though.
“You shall sit here, Georgiana,” Anne instructed.
Georgiana had just sat down upon a sofa with Elizabeth. “I do not like to sit so close to the fire,” she said. “I am very comfortable here, and I know that you do not like to be crowded when you are feeling unwell.”
“I do not like to be disregarded either,” Anne grumbled, as though she were not the one who had placed herself at some distance from the others.
“I shall sit with you and keep you company,” Mr. Darcy said, sacrificing himself for his sister’s benefit.
He sat down in the chair before his wife could protest, and made some effort at conversation, but within ten minutes she was eager to have him gone.
“You are too tall,” she complained. “Your presence is too overwhelming, especially when I do not feel well. I really would do much better with Georgiana to talk to me.”
“You will have to make do with Mrs. Jenkinson. Georgiana is otherwise occupied,” he said in a low voice. “I will not have you bothering her. You will do well to remember that I desire you not to interfere in her affairs. If you do not choose to oblige me in this matter, perhaps I may not choose to honour certain promises made to you.”
She looked at him in horror. Feeling that the point had been sufficiently made, Mr. Darcy got up and went to talk with Mr. Bingley, but he could not find much pleasure in that conversation either. It was too embarrassing to think that he had burdened his friends with such a disagreeable person.
His wife said very little to anybody at dinner. Afterwards, he watched the ladies leave the room with some misgiving. He could not be certain that Anne would comply with his wishes when he was not around. But he had seen that Georgiana was becoming capable of standing up for herself.
“I must apologise for my wife’s ingratitude,” he said to Mr. Bingley once the door was closed. “She does not care for travelling. I am afraid it is not easy to please her either. I hope you will not mind that she is rather a difficult guest.”
“Not at all,” Mr. Bingley said. “I only hope that we can make her comfortable.”
“I would not bother worrying too much about it. I think she likes being uncomfortable. It gives her something to complain about.”
Mr. Bingley had nothing to say in reply to this, but he looked at his friend with great concern.
“Oh, do not worry about me,” Mr. Darcy said. “I am doing well enough, and I am very happy to be here. Perhaps I shall dance every dance at your ball. That should cheer me up, and if it does not, then I can go and find some diversion in rearranging your library.”
That made Mr. Bingley laugh, and then they were able to talk a little more cheerfully. They did not sit in the dining room very long though. Mr. Darcy thought that his friend probably shared his anxiety about what was going on in the drawing room.
Fortunately, it seemed that his wife was not causing any trouble. She was still sitting apart from the others, but they did not require her to add anything to the company. The conversation was flowing as merrily as it had done when they were last together. It did not appear that the two sour-faced ladies who were sitting in their bower of screens had thrown any damper on the evening.
Feeling it incumbent upon him to pay some attention to his wife, Mr. Darcy asked how she was feeling.
“I am still very cold,” she replied.
He doubted that she was. There was an excellent fire burning in the grate. The room was quite warm, and he noticed that Anne made no effort to adjust the shawl which had slipped off her shoulders.
“I am excessively tired as well,” she added.
“Then perhaps you would like to go to bed early.”
“I shall wait for everybody else.”
“There is no need for you to do that, and it would be better if you do not. We will probably sit here talking until a late hour.”
“I am sure we will,” Mr. Bingley said, coming up to stand beside his friend. “We tend to lose track of time when we get talking. I do not want you to be uncomfortable, Mrs. Darcy. I shall give instructions for your bed to be warmed at once.”
He went and did just that, and then he made some further expressions of concern, which eventually compelled Anne to take herself to bed. With her and Mrs. Jenkinson gone, Mr. Darcy was able to enjoy the rest of the evening almost as well as he had done on his last visit. But the knowledge that his wife was in the house made it impossible for him to be completely content.
The next day passed in similar fashion, except that Anne was feeling well enough to play cards that evening. Nobody else felt any such inclination, but when she dropped a not very subtle hint, they all went to play, forming two tables. Mr. Darcy was intending to sit with Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson, but Mr. Bingley and Jane took those places, leaving him to enjoy, although with some guilt, a place at the livelier table.
On the following day, Miss Bingley and the Hursts arrived. Now that Anne had some company which was agreeable to her, she talked a great deal more, although only to them. The Bingleys could not help but notice that she was quite capable of being sociable when she chose to be. Mr. Darcy was ashamed to think that they, and also Elizabeth, must be noticing this slight to themselves.
With the company of her friends to bolster her, Anne also became bolder. “You must come and have some conversation with Caroline and Louisa,” she said to Georgiana that afternoon. “They have not seen you in ages.”
Mr. Darcy had seen them visiting his house several times in the past month, but perhaps his sister had found ways to avoid them. He had seen that she was not especially keen on their company, and that was even before she had heard about their disapproval of Jane. Unfortunately, it would have been rude for her to refuse this suggestion, so she exchanged her seat beside Elizabeth for one next to Miss Bingley, but he saw her reluctance.
The same ruse was repeated after dinner, but in an even more demanding way. “You shall play cards with Caroline, Louisa, and me,” she told Georgiana after the gentleman had come into the drawing room.
Fortunately for Georgiana, she was spared from having to comply with this order by Mr. Hurst’s love of cardplaying. Since nobody else wanted to play on this evening, only one table was set up. He quickly sat himself at it. She was not entirely spared though.
Miss Bingley then decided to give her place to Mrs. Jenkinson and came to sit with the others instead. For the rest of the evening, she tried to engage Georgiana exclusively in conversation, frequently interrupting when Elizabeth was speaking. It seemed to Mr. Darcy that her jealousy still lingered even though there could be no reason for it now.
Toward Jane, she kept up the appearance of being affectionate, but he noticed that she was not very friendl
y to Mrs. Annesley either. This was not specially surprising since she and her sister had never been inclined to waste their attention on people whom they considered insignificant. A mere companion, even one who was treated by the Bingleys as a very welcome guest, would not matter much to them; however, their disdain might also have something to do with one of Anne’s latest complaints – that Georgiana’s companion was treated better than hers. Whatever the reason, Mr. Darcy was particularly annoyed by this slight because Mrs. Annesley’s sensible presence had been of much value to him since his marriage.
He thought it short-sighted of Miss Bingley not to consider that this might offend him. She continued to be extremely friendly toward him, and he was civil in return, but that was taking more and more effort. There was a hardness to both her and her sister which he had never fully appreciated.
She was not very happy when the Gardiners visit to Pemberley came into the conversation. “I thought you were not going to have any visitors,” she said peevishly.
“I did not,” he replied. “Miss Bennet and her relatives did not stay with us. They only came to spend a little time at Pemberley when they were passing through the neighborhood.”
She was not very much pacified though. Her expression declared that even a little time was too much. He could see that the pleasure of this visit would be greatly diminished by her presence, as well as his wife’s. He doubted that dancing at the ball would be sufficient to cheer him up.
The day before that event, Anne said privately to him, “You may dance tomorrow evening, even though I shall not, but I do not want you to stand up with any of the Bennet sisters. I cannot even understand you being friendly with them, but I hope you know how to keep up some standards.”
He did not reply to this demand. He had been thinking that perhaps he should not dance with Elizabeth since that seemed like too much of an indulgence, but he had been intending to ask Jane. Now he had the idea that he might like to dance with all the Bennet sisters. That would be an excellent way of showing his wife that he was not going to take orders from her.
At breakfast the next morning, Anne brought up the subject of dancing again.
“I shall not dance of course,” she announced to the company in general. “My health prohibits such strenuous activity. But Darcy is going to dance a little. You must stand up with him in the first dance, Caroline.”
Now she was wanting to choose his dance partners for him. It was too much. Mr. Darcy was tempted to say that she was quite mistaken and he did not mean to dance at all, but then he would probably find himself obliged to remain by her side for the entire evening. He was definitely going to dance with Elizabeth though. It was not as though there was any harm in it, and if he was going to have to put up with Miss Bingley, and probably Mrs. Hurst as well, then he would like to also have some agreeable partners of his own choosing.
A Great Deal of Change, and Some Things Still the Same
Miss Bingley smiled very happily when she and Mr. Darcy danced together that evening. His second partner was Mrs. Hurst, not because his wife forced her upon him, but because he decided to make the offer himself before that happened.
For the third dance, he asked Elizabeth. It was the same one as last year, but there had been much change in that time. On the last occasion, their conversation had been more of a quarrel, and the pleasure which he had been seeking had swiftly turned to dissatisfaction. This time their dance was all pleasure. The feelings which he knew he should not have had been successfully put to the back of his mind, and he was able to think only that it was nice to enjoy the company of a good friend.
Afterwards, they went to supper, where he found that some things were much the same as last year. Mrs. Bennet was again talking in an excessively loud voice about her eldest daughter’s marriage to Bingley. A year ago she had only been presumptuously anticipating that union, as well as the opportunity it would provide for her other daughters to meet wealthy gentlemen.
On this evening, he heard her say to one of her friends, “Everything has turned out just as I hoped. Here is Jane married to dear Bingley and the hostess of this delightful evening. And Lizzy is to spend the whole winter in London with them. I have no doubt that she will soon make another equally advantageous match, or perhaps even better.”
In all his time spent thinking of Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy had not gotten around to considering this. She would marry eventually. Even though she lacked fortune and connections, there would be a man who saw her worth, just as he had done. It would be difficult to hear of her marriage, but he would bear it with dignity.
He might even be invited to the wedding. As Bingley was going to be introducing her about town, there was a good chance that her future husband would be somebody he knew. That event might be a sore trial for him, despite all his resolutions not to care too much about her; however, if invited to attend, he would go rather than staying away, and he would wish them both well. True love could not be selfish. If she found happiness, then he would be happy for her.
Mrs. Bennet’s voice intruded upon his thoughts again. She was now anticipating the successes which Kitty and Mary would have in future years. Mr. Darcy could see that there were ways in which she would never change, but she redeemed herself a little in his eyes with some of her behaviour that evening. Unlike Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, Mrs. Bennet was not above being friendly with Mrs. Annesley, with whom she had a lengthy conversation.
Even the younger sisters were not so badly behaved as they had been on the previous year. Miss Kitty was somewhat quieter, due perhaps to the removal of Miss Lydia’s influence, or perhaps to Mr. Bennet’s resolutions of being stricter with his daughters. He had mentioned this plan to Mr. Darcy while they were in London searching for Lydia, and here was evidence of its implementation.
Miss Mary did not rush to play the pianoforte as she had done on the previous year. She was instead the third performer, and she played only one piece of music. There seemed to be an improvement in her abilities as well.
Georgiana also played for the company. She was nervous about performing for so many people, something which she had never done before, but with Elizabeth’s encouragement, she managed very well.
“I do not think I could have done it without you,” she said to her friend afterwards. “Your presence gave me confidence. I am so glad that we are going to be out together in London. That will make everything easier.”
Mr. Darcy was glad of it too. He could see that Anne was not going to be of much use to Georgiana as she made her entrance into society, but Jane and Elizabeth would join Mrs. Annesley in being helpful and encouraging. His sister would do very well with such supportive friends.
“I am glad we shall be together as well,” Elizabeth said. “Any experience is much more enjoyable when shared with good friends.”
She had only lately realised that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy had it in mind to go everywhere together once they were all in London. She had expected Jane’s marriage to bring her into some contact with Mr. Darcy, but certainly not this much. She looked forward to it though. His company was unfailingly pleasant.
It would be nice if they did not see so much of Miss Bingley though. On this evening, she irritated Elizabeth with one of those barbs which she liked to employ. “It is a pity that your youngest sister could not be here this evening,” she said. “Miss Lydia was always excessively fond of dancing, and the company of the officers.”
“I am sure there will be no shortage of dancing in Newcastle,” Elizabeth replied. “It is a popular activity anywhere.” She could not say anything to mitigate that comment about officers though. It was true that Lydia had a great fondness for them, which had often been on display last winter. Her marriage was not very reputable, but at least it had taken her far away, where she could not embarrass her sisters by behaving badly when they were out in company.
Elizabeth was also making some comparisons to the previous year. She was pleased to see Mary and Kitty behaving with more propriety. Her father had s
tuck to his intention of keeping better control of his daughters, and Kitty was becoming admirably quiet and well-behaved. Mary was not so eager to display herself these days, perhaps because, with only two daughters currently at Longbourn, she was being given a great deal more attention. Mr. Bennet had also arranged for her to have some music lessons from a lady in Meryton, and that was responsible for the notable improvement in her playing.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet was still saying more than she should. Elizabeth was certain that Mr. Darcy overheard the comment about her own marital prospects which was quite mortifying to her. But at least he knew that she did not care about advantageous matches like her mother did. She ruefully recalled having made that clear on the occasion of refusing his proposal.
Still, she hated for him to see another example of that want of propriety which he had deplored in the past. He did not look so contemptuous this evening though. It appeared that he was more comfortable in Meryton society these days. And he had been very civil with her mother, both this evening and on his last visit.
He had changed remarkably in the past year. It really was a great pity that he had made such an unfortunate marriage. Had he waited longer, he might well have found happiness with some lady who had qualities like those which he had admired in her. As she liked him very well these days, it was not a far stretch to think that somebody of similar disposition could have fallen in love with him.
She was now in no doubt that his marriage was unhappy. A few days spent with him and his wife had made it clear that they shared absolutely nothing of the affection which was so wonderful to see in her sister’s marriage. She supposed it was possible for a marriage of convenience to work very well if there was respect and cooperation between the partners, but in this case, there obviously was not. Mrs. Darcy often went so far as to treat her husband with disdain.
He was very tolerant and patient, but Elizabeth guessed that this required a great effort, and she wondered how long he would be able to keep it up. If his wife was capable of being so rude to him in public, there was no telling how unpleasant she might be in private. All in all, Elizabeth felt very sorry for Mr. Darcy, and very concerned that there could be a great deal of trouble ahead of him. It was remarkable that he was managing to keep up any good spirits.