Yet, she couldn’t help thinking that had he not left, his party would not have followed him. She couldn’t forget Jane’s face when she read Miss Bingley’s letter saying they had closed the house and were eagerly anticipating spending the winter in company with Miss Darcy. Elizabeth felt certain Caroline was lying, but would Mr. Bingley’s regard be strong enough to draw him back to Hertfordshire? He had an easy temperament and was often swayed by his friends’ inclinations. He’d admitted as much himself.
Was it in her power to make him stay? Would that accomplish anything of significance, or only delay his departure? If he had business in Town, he would have to go eventually.
Regardless, she thought it was as good a possibility as anything. She would do everything she could to make Mr. Bingley stay at Netherfield.
~
Elizabeth danced the first with Mr. Collins, as she had promised, but now she was familiar with his mistakes and was able to spare her feet from his clumsiness. The second was promised to an officer, but the third was free. She had previously spent this dance speaking with Charlotte Lucas, but this time she purposely sought out Mr. Bingley. He had opened with Jane, danced the second with his sister, and had previously danced the third with one of the Miss Longs. Before he could reach those fair ladies, Elizabeth intercepted him and began telling him what a lovely party it was and how he had done the beautiful house justice. He was pleased with her compliments and responded warmly, then asked her to dance the next when the couples began lining up.
They talked of general things for a few minutes before she began her attack.
“My mother has tasked me with giving you a dinner invitation,” she said.
“That is very kind of her. I leave for Town tomorrow, but when I return, I shall be glad to accept,” he replied with good humor.
“When do you return?”
“I hope to complete my business in a few days, but mayhap it will require a week.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Shall I tell my mother you will come Thursday next? That will give you plenty of time to return.” She smiled sweetly and turned around him as the dance called for.
He thought for a moment, then smiled brightly. “Yes, I think that shall do splendidly! I shall ask my sisters if they are available.”
Elizabeth nodded in response and wondered what else she could do. Was an accepted invitation enough to bring him back? Surely not. If his heart was not enough, dinner certainly wouldn’t be.
“I was wondering if you would consent to help me with something when you return,” she said.
He looked surprised. “Of course, Miss Elizabeth. What do you require?”
She thought frantically and finally said, “I would like to sponsor a contest with the estate children. Winter can be a difficult time, as you know, and I had thought it would be nice to give them something to look forward to, and some provisions to assist their families. I had thought the two estates could do it together, since the tenant families know one another and many are friends.”
“That sounds like a marvelous idea! What kind of contest did you have in mind?”
At a loss for a plausible idea, she said, “That is what I was hoping you could help me with. I had thought of some sport, but the weather is too cold for that. For indoor pursuits, we could do sewing for the girls, but I know not what would be suitable for the boys. I have no brothers, so I thought you might have a suggestion.”
A sewing contest? Really, Lizzy. You can do better than that!
She smiled and he thought for a moment.
“Do you know if the children play checkers?”
“Checkers? That is a wonderful idea!” She knew she was overly enthusiastic, but she simply must give him a reason to stay!
“You could run it as a tournament, as they do for chess. Have you already chosen a prize? I would like to contribute, of course.”
She nodded. “That is very kind of you, Mr. Bingley. I had thought half a crown each for one girl and one boy.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “It is a fine idea. I should like to assist you. We may discuss the details at dinner next week,” he said, full of enthusiasm.
She agreed and the dance ended. He led her off the floor and she chastised herself for not accomplishing her goal. She had intended to stop him from leaving altogether, not to encourage him to come back! She frowned and told herself it didn’t matter, what was done was done. Perhaps knowing he had someone expecting him and relying upon his assistance would create a greater urgency to return. If he told his sisters about it, they may not follow him to Town.
Elizabeth stopped walking and stared ahead of her blankly, wondering at her own stupidity. Of course Mr. Bingley would return on his own, he had already said he would and he had every reason to come back. The only thing that would keep him in London was his sisters, and perhaps Mr. Darcy. She should have directed her efforts at convincing them to stay in Hertfordshire, not Mr. Bingley! Stupid girl!
Elizabeth knew that no number of commitments would keep Caroline Bingley anywhere she did not want to be. She would simply write a note and give her excuses, then do exactly what she pleased. She imagined Mr. Darcy was the same. Mrs. Hurst might be more easily worked on, but then she likely would not stand up to her more forceful sister.
What to do, what to do?
Mr. Darcy was advancing toward her, and knowing she had danced the fourth set with him at every ball she had attended thus far, she agreed graciously and was silent for the first several minutes, furiously thinking of a way to keep this man in Meryton.
“Will you be staying long in the country, Mr. Darcy?” she asked.
“I will return to Town for the festive season to collect my sister.”
“Will you remain in Town until the Season, or will you travel to Derbyshire?”
He looked at her quizzically for a moment, then answered, “If the roads are good, we will travel to Derbyshire. I will return to Town in April.”
She nodded in response and couldn’t feel irritated by his strange looks. She had never really asked him about himself or his plans before. He must find it odd.
“Will you accompany Mr. Bingley to Town tomorrow?”
“I had not planned to, no.”
He looked at her curiously again and she found herself forming a desperate resolution. Caroline held sway over her brother, and she wanted nothing more than to be Mrs. Darcy. She would not leave if Darcy stayed, and Mr. Bingley would surely return if his guests were still in residence. But how to get him to stay? He likely wouldn’t accept a dinner invitation or feel obligated by one if he did. Elizabeth was certainly not attractive enough to him to achieve anything by flirting, and she wouldn’t know how to go about enticing a man to remain in the area while not actually encouraging him romantically—as if such arts would work on Mr. Darcy.
“My father mentioned that he hasn’t had much chance to converse with you,” she said when the dance brought them together again.
“No, we have not spoken much,” he answered, his face blank.
“He has been lamenting of late the lack of good chess partners in the area. His favorite partner has recently moved to his son in Stoke. Do you play?”
“Yes, I do.”
She smiled brightly. “Would you play a game with my father? I should not make plans for him, but I know he has been long desiring a game since his friend moved away, and it would cheer him considerably to play with an able opponent.”
She smiled again and they separated in the dance. Elizabeth was beginning to fear for her sanity. She had lost count of how many falsehoods she had uttered in the last hour and she was surprised at the ridiculous words spewing from her mouth.
“I should like a game with your father,” he said when they were joined again by the dance.
“Splendid!” she cried. “Will Friday suit?”
“Yes, I shall plan on it,” he said solemnly.
She granted him yet another smile and they completed the dance in silence.
The ba
ll continued as it always did, and she could only hope her paltry efforts had made some kind of difference.
~
The next morning, she awoke praying it was Wednesday, the day after the ball, and not Tuesday, the day of the ball. Her mother shrieking in the hall was proof that she had failed in her plan to keep the Netherfield party in Hertfordshire. If that was indeed the purpose of this enterprise.
She would have to be more convincing tonight.
Elizabeth entered the ball with one goal: convince Caroline Bingley to stay in Hertfordshire. She was kind to the lady, complimented her on the arrangements, and told her how lovely her skin looked and that it must be the effect of all the country air. Caroline thanked her and looked thoughtful for a moment.
At supper, Elizabeth—through sheer force of personality—cajoled Mr. Darcy into sitting next to Caroline. Elizabeth felt like an animal keeper, feeding a snake a particularly plump mouse, but if Caroline was the key to her escaping this nightmare, Elizabeth would give her whatever she wanted.
Caroline seemed pleased at Elizabeth’s delivery and Elizabeth risked giving the lady a sly wink as she sat on the opposite side of Mr. Darcy. Miss Bingley looked surprised, but quickly recovered. Both ladies knew that Caroline’s best chances of winning Mr. Darcy were at Netherfield, where they shared a residence. If they both returned to London, Caroline would go to her sister’s house and Mr. Darcy would go to his. She would have considerably less access to him. It was clearly in her favor to remain in the country.
Every time Mr. Darcy’s attention turned to Elizabeth, she somehow redirected it to Caroline. She was at her charming best, surprising herself at how affable she could be to two people she heartily disliked and was further shocked by receiving Mr. Darcy’s affability in return. Caroline was very pleasant as well, and she and Elizabeth worked in concert to entertain the gentleman. All three seemed slightly disturbed by their camaraderie.
Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley were so consumed by Elizabeth’s attentions that they barely noticed Mary’s discordant playing or her father’s rude dismissal. When Lydia ran past them shrieking, they looked up for a moment, but were then drawn back into their own conversation.
Elizabeth wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before. Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley were clearly the ones in control of this company, Miss Bingley especially. Trying to convince Mr. Bingley of anything had been a waste of valuable time. These two were the decision makers.
It was a subtle plan, and one she was by no means sure of, but she thought it had as good a chance as any.
~
She was wrong. The next day was Tuesday. She met it with a groan and began to formulate her plan. Now realizing that Caroline was her true quarry, she set to work thinking of a suitable way to make the lady remain in the country.
“Have you had a letter from Town lately, Miss Bingley?” Elizabeth asked at the ball. She had remembered to be kind and flattering first, to soften the lady up, and had repeated her comment about her skin looking brighter from the clean country air.
“No, Miss Eliza. My friends are in the country for the winter,” she said, as if it was a ridiculous question.
“Oh, well then you will not have heard news of the outbreak.”
“Outbreak?” asked Caroline.
“Yes. I’ve had a letter from my aunt just today.” She would have to add that to her growing list of falsehoods. “Typhoid fever is spreading through the city like wildfire,” she said dramatically.
Caroline’s eyes widened, and Elizabeth successfully hid her smile.
“Is it very widespread?” asked Miss Bingley. She looked truly frightened and Elizabeth felt a moment of guilt, but she had come too far to stop now.
“I’m afraid it is. My aunt and uncle usually come to Longbourn for the festive season without the children, but they will bring them this year to keep them safe, and they are talking of arriving earlier than usual, perhaps as early as next week.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “It is as bad as that, then?”
“It is best in these situations to be careful, I believe. I haven’t mentioned it to my mother or sisters. I didn’t want to ruin their evening with worrying over our friends in Town. You won’t mention it to them, will you?”
“Of course not, Miss Eliza. I am more than capable of keeping a confidence,” replied Miss Bingley.
“Your brother mentioned he is going to Town for business tomorrow. Please do tell him to take care. I would hate for him to become ill,” Elizabeth said sincerely.
“Yes, I will mention it, of course. Thank you for the information, Eliza.”
Elizabeth nodded and left the lady to her ruminations, thinking this had been a much better method than the previous ones she had employed.
~
Alas, though it had been a very good idea (she couldn’t help admitting such to herself), it did not work. Tuesday rose again the next day and Elizabeth found herself once again preparing for a ball.
Feeling desperate, she went to the stables and started a conversation with Old John. He had been the coachman and stablemaster at Longbourn for as long as she could remember. When she was a small child, she would sit on a hay bale and watch him at his work, fascinated by the strange equipment and the majestic animals.
“Good day,” she said when she entered the stable.
Old John was surprised to see her, but also quite pleased, and their conversation progressed amiably.
“I wonder if you would explain something to me,” she said eventually.
“Of course, Miss Lizzy. What can I help ye with?”
“I read in a book recently how a carriage broke down, and the way the author described it made little sense to me. Would you mind showing me how it can be done?”
He nodded and took her to the carriage, which had been cleaned and shined in preparation for the ball. He showed her all the various parts, and what was responsible for which action. When she told him she had read of carriages losing wheels and breaking axles, and asked how such a thing could come about, he showed her how losing a wheel could be as simple as a bad bolt and easily remedied. An axle was a larger problem and could take a few days to fix.
“It must be a terrible accident to cause an axle to break,” she said with wide eyes.
“Ye’d be surprised,” he replied. He went on to explain how the wrong distribution of weight or an uneven surface could put strain on the axle and its accompanying parts.
She listened with rapt attention and thanked him for taking the time to talk to her. He bowed gallantly and she gave him a sweet smile before returning to the house. She slipped into Kitty’s room and found an old play dress, one that could pass for a servants’ Sunday wear, and stuffed it into a small bag. Then she told her mother she would take a nap to be fresh for the ball. Her mother agreed that she needed all the help with her looks she could get and shooed her to her room. Elizabeth put pillows under her blanket so it would appear she was buried beneath the covers and snuck out the servants’ door. Once she gained the ground floor, she crept out one of the back doors and made her way to the shed. She gathered the tools she needed, then struck out towards Netherfield.
Once she was a good distance from Longbourn, she ducked behind a large tree and changed her dress for the one she had pilfered from her sister. She put on an old bonnet that had seen better days and pulled it low so her hair was completely covered. She contemplated smudging dirt on her face, but there were few dirty housemaids or tenants that near to the house.
She was so anxious over her plan that she arrived at Netherfield in very good time. She watched the stables carefully from her hiding place behind a dense thicket at the edge of the forest. She knew not how many men were employed there nor where they were located.
Luck was on her side. A maid exited the kitchen door and was soon at the stables, announcing the midday meal was ready if they cared to partake. Three men filed out of the stables and followed her up to the house. Elizabeth was about to sneak out from her hiding plac
e when she heard steps and two more men rushed out, dressed differently than the others. Hoping that was everyone, she crept slowly to the stables and looked around, straining her ears for sounds of steps or voices.
All was quiet. She crept into the stables and moved quickly to the far end of the building where the carriages were housed in a connected structure. Thankfully, the large carriage doors were closed and no one would see her in the shadowy space. A horse whinnied as she passed his box and she nearly jumped at the sound of it, then placed her hand over her racing heart and continued on her path.
There were two carriages. One had what she assumed was the Darcy crest on it. It looked pretentious even in the dim light of the carriage house. Unsure which they would ride in, and knowing they could simply take the other if one was damaged, she decided to sabotage both.
She set to work on the Bingley carriage—she recognized it from Caroline’s call at Longbourn. She removed the small saw she had taken from the shed and began working on the axle. She wanted to be sure a simple repair was not possible, so she sawed straight through one side, then slid over on the dirty ground to the other. There was straw on the ground, she assumed to protect the carriage from the mud all the recent rain had caused, and it cushioned her knees somewhat, but it was an awkward position crouching under a carriage.
The saw made an awful amount of noise and every minute she was sure someone would return and drag her out by her ear. She would have to admit her identity to avoid terrible punishment, and that would lead to terrible humiliation. These thoughts almost made her cease her actions, but then she remembered that tomorrow would be a fresh day, and no one would remember what had happened today if she was not successful. Comforted by that thought, she attacked the axle on the second carriage with renewed vigor and soon, both carriages were lame. She packed up her saw and was about to exit the carriage house when men’s voices were heard coming into the adjacent stable.
The 26th of November, a Pride and Prejudice Comedy of Farcical Proportions Page 2