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Chapter 11
The morning after the ball was one of remorse and regret for Darcy. He felt angry and embarrassed by his own behavior. He had walked away from Elizabeth mid-sentence, unable to bear the look of anguish in her eyes, and had later quarreled with Bingley.
Two words, "I wish," had escaped his lips in Elizabeth's hearing. Yes, he wished her prospects were better or that it did not matter to his father that they were not. He would always remember the hollow emptiness he saw in her eyes as he turned away from her.
He had never had such a disagreement with Bingley before. In the past, he had always been able to persuade Bingley to adopt a new opinion, but for the first time, Bingley would not be influenced by him. Indeed, Bingley's resolve seemed strengthened with each argument that Darcy put forth. It was Bingley's opinion that Jane Bennet would fulfill all the desires he had for marriage, and those points in which Darcy considered her to be wanting were irrelevant to his happiness.
A choice of wife was an important matter, thought Darcy, but was it worth a rift with Bingley? Jane Bennet was a very pleasant young woman and was in no way irksome or greedy like her mother. If Bingley were to ignore the expectations of society, Darcy would have to confess that he could make no better choice than Miss Bennet.
After Bingley had announced his intention of asking for Miss Bennet's hand during their quarrel in the library, Bingley had thrown his feelings of love for Elizabeth back in his face. That had been the worst of it for Darcy. Bingley had told him that his objections to his marriage with Jane had nothing at all to do with Miss Bennet, but were his own objections to a match he wished to make with Elizabeth. Bingley had said that if all he was concerned about was wealth and connections, then he was not worthy of being loved by Elizabeth. Recognizing the truth of Bingley's words, but fearing he would lose his tempter, Darcy fled the library for the solitude of his room without saying another word.
In the monotonous silence of his bedchamber, Darcy reflected on the events of the evening. He had accomplished one thing - he knew that Elizabeth did not hate him. This provided some comfort, but his mind was not at rest. He could not explain his behavior to her without revealing that he had fallen in love with her. Adding to his discomfiture was his argument with Bingley over Jane Bennet. He found he had cut himself off from two of the people he loved most in the world. With feelings of isolation and loneliness, Darcy spent a tortured, sleepless night.
Darcy arose from his bed while it was still dark with a pitted, icy feeling in his chest. He acknowledged that he had committed an unforgivable transgression. He had betrayed a friend. No, he had betrayed two. Trying to dissuade Bingley away from a marriage with Miss Bennet was unjustifiable. It was self-serving. It was evil. Breaking with Elizabeth violated every sense of justice he held dear. She still loved him. He had discovered that at the ball, but for his treatment of her, he deserved her hate and contempt.
If he felt any shred of decency towards Elizabeth and Bingley, he knew he must leave Netherfield. His presence caused only pain, upset and grief and certainly neither Elizabeth nor Bingley deserved further harm at his hands.
He had been prepared to leave early, but now he descended the stairs to leave immediately. In the silence of darkness, he escaped from Netherfield and was now on the road to London, leaving behind Elizabeth and Bingley. He had made no farewell to either, and now as he listened to the rattle of the carriage, he realized once again that perhaps he would see neither of them again.
Bingley arose early with a discontented mind and as he dressed, he thought about all the disadvantages under which he would suffer by being at odds with Darcy. It was unfamiliar ground for him and he felt unsure of himself. He relied very much on Darcy's opinions and sought out his council on all-important matters, yet Darcy had to be wrong in this instance.
Bingley resolved that he would speak with Darcy just as soon as may be, and would employ every power he possessed in the hopes of changing Darcy's mind. In marrying Miss Bennet, he knew he was pursuing the best course for happiness. What more could be hoped for from marriage? Indeed, what more could be hoped for from life itself? He had to convince Darcy.
As Bingley was passing through the hall into the breakfast room where he expected to find tea, he came upon his housekeeper.
"Good morning, Mrs. Thomas. Would you please send me word when Mr. Darcy comes down to breakfast," asked Bingley. "I will be in the library waiting for him."
Bingley began to move in that direction when he was arrested by her reply.
"But, sir," she said, not a little surprised, "did you not know that Mr. Darcy left early this morning for London?"
"For London?" cried Bingley, incredulously.
"Yes, sir," said Mrs. Thomas. "I offered to bring him tea, but he told me he could not wait, that he must leave, even at that instant. I am sorry, Mr. Bingley, I thought he must have told you."
Bingley did not reply to her surmise. "Did he seem well?" he asked.
She thought for a moment, then said, "He appeared to me to be agitated and upset. I do not know if he had received bad news. He left in a violent hurry."
"Thank you, Mrs. Thomas."
She left him to go about her duties and Bingley stared for a long moment at the space she had recently occupied. Darcy's sudden departure was wholly unexpected and he felt himself uneasy at the implications. He had not imagined that their disagreement could result in any type of breech between them, yet Darcy had left without so much as a word. He wanted to be patient with Darcy, yet he could not help but recall with some anger, that the last time Darcy had left Netherfield, he had done so without leaving word.
He was filled with regret that Darcy had left so precipitously, but would not blame himself. He was resolved that he would marry Miss Bennet, even against Darcy's wishes and without his blessing.
Bingley moved behind his desk and penned a brief note to Darcy, addressed to his home in London, then took down a book. Although reading was out of the question, by leafing through the pages he was accomplishing his real intent, which was to put off a visit to Longbourn until it was late enough in the morning that a call there would not be unwelcome.
He was not long amused by the book, however, and took to pacing the floor by the fire. His thoughts wandered between Longbourn where he thought with pleasure on the happiness he would feel when Jane accepted his ring, and the road to London where he thought with irritation about Darcy. He was gratefully interrupted by a servant who carried a parcel from town. Bingley knew immediately what he would find. It was his mother's ring.
He ordered his horse and prepared to ride to Longbourn. Today he would give the ring to Jane and he knew she would accept him. They had spoken of it. His proposal would be a formality. In no time they would be married and she would be not only his friend, but also his companion and lover. There could be no greater happiness.
NetherfieldDarcy,
I am distressed that you chose to leave Netherfield without so much as a goodbye to your friend. I can only assume you were deeply hurt by our conversation. We have never differed on any point before; I have always changed my opinion to yours and followed your counsel implicitly.
But this time I cannot. I find no greater happiness in the world than the thought of Jane Bennet as my wife. You know why I think she would be more than suitable for me, and I know your objections to the match.
I apologize for my part in our dispute. I know I must have hurt you with my allusions to Miss Elizabeth. It was wrong of me. Your situation with her is none of my business. I hope you will be able to forgive me.
I would like to ask you to stand up with me when Miss Bennet and I marry. I hope you will agree to come.
You are my best friend, and I remain yours,
Charles Bingley
Jane woke up the next morning refreshed after a night of pleasant dreams. The ball had fulfilled her every expectation and she had never felt as contented as she had last night. She had danced with Mr. Bingley twice and was in conversation with him for much of the evening. He had also been very solicitous of Elizabeth's comfort and had finally persuaded her to dance. Jane recalled the way she felt when Mr. Bingley kissed her hand when they departed from Netherfield. She was so happy! If only Elizabeth...
Suddenly recollecting herself, she remembered that her sister had gone to bed quite upset. Upon entering her room, she found Elizabeth looking out a window.
"Oh, Lizzy," said Jane soothingly. She sat on the bed next to Elizabeth and put her arm around her. Elizabeth gave a faint smile, but did not speak.
Elizabeth had arisen feeling quite disturbed and her unhappiness was obvious. She had been undone during her dance with Mr. Darcy and now found herself quite angry and disillusion after overhearing his conversation with Mr. Bingley. All she could do was suffer the pain of hurt and betrayal.
"Jane, I am distressed by my feelings for Mr. Darcy. I am so confused," said Elizabeth, breaking their silence.
Jane sighed and nodded her head to encourage Elizabeth to continue speaking.
"You were right. I should not have danced with him."
Her breath caught in her throat for a moment and she had to pause.
"But I cannot completely banish him from my heart, and indeed, I do not want to."
She would not tell Jane what Mr. Darcy had said concerning their family or how Mr. Bingley had defended them.
Jane reached out to Elizabeth, hugged her and held her tightly. She felt Elizabeth's tears on her neck and began to murmur endearments into her ear.
As she was being comforted by her sister, Elizabeth employed the opportunity for a moment of reflection. She knew she had to accept that Mr. Darcy held her in no special regard. Not now, not after hearing his conversation with Mr. Bingley. She was shocked at his attitude. Not so much with respect to herself, but that he would have the presumption to try and dissuade Mr. Bingley from seeking Jane's hand. Elizabeth was proud of Mr. Bingley. He had stood up to his friend and would not be swayed in his affection for her sister. Mr. Bingley was truly a good man and Jane would be happy with him.
Jane, who did not fully understand all that was troubling Elizabeth, said, "Lizzy, your heart will mend. Please rely on me to take care of you. I love you very much and will do anything for you."
"You are too good, Jane," whispered Elizabeth.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Come in," said Jane as she and Elizabeth separated. Elizabeth turned away from the door to dry her tears. She had been crying too much lately and it seemed as if her eyes were perpetually red and burning.
"Excuse me, Miss," Mrs. Hill said to Jane, "but Mr. Bingley has called for you. I have shown him into the drawing room."
Jane's pulse began to race as she thought about Mr. Bingley being there, at Longbourn, waiting to see her.
"Thank you, Hill," said Jane. Then turning to Elizabeth, she asked, "Will you come with me, Lizzy?" Jane was rather unwilling to leave Elizabeth by herself.
"Go to him, Jane," urged Elizabeth. "I will join you when I have composed myself."
Jane looked on her sister very tenderly and knew in her heart that if it were possible, she would share the burden of Elizabeth's pain with her and not allow her to suffer alone.
"Are you sure? I will gladly stay with you," offered Jane. She knew that Mr. Bingley would not be angry if she remained with Elizabeth for awhile. He was not unsympathetic to her plight, and knew full well that Jane was Elizabeth's only source of comfort.
"No, Jane," said Elizabeth. "I will be fine."
Jane considered for a moment the possibility of insisting that she remain with Elizabeth, but she could sense that Elizabeth would not be persuaded.
Jane entered the drawing room and felt her breath leave her at the sight of Mr. Bingley. As her love for him grew, he appeared to her to be more handsome each time she saw him and today was no different. She was led across the room to him by the intensity of his gaze.
He suffered a similar consequence on beholding Jane at her entrance into the room. She was so beautiful. There could be no end to the love he felt for her.
"Good morning, Miss Bennet" he said. "I hope I have not called too early." She came up to him and he took her hand.
"Good morning, Mr. Bingley. You know very well that I am always pleased to see you, regardless of the hour." Loving him was so easy, and as she took a moment to look back over the course of their acquaintance, she realized the seeds of that love had been planted the moment she first saw him when he came to tell her that Elizabeth had been discovered.
"Will you walk out with me into the garden?" he asked nervously. He wanted to take her away from the house where they could enjoy privacy.
"I would like that very much."
She and Bingley closed the door quietly behind them and went around the house to the back.
"Will you ... will you sit with me?" he asked. He knew he was approaching that fateful instant when he would put the decision regarding his future happiness in her hands, and as the moment approached, his anxiety increased. He knew not why proposing marriage to the woman he loved, and who loved him in return, should be so difficult. Nevertheless, it was.
She nodded and they walked together to a bench that was protected from the house by a large tree and sat down next to each other. Bingley took her hand and kissed it, but would not release it.
"Miss Bennet ... Jane ... I have come to see you with a purpose this morning," he said with an earnest look. He had rehearsed this moment in his mind many times, most lately on the ride from Netherfield, but now he could not remember what he had determined to say.
She smiled brightly at the sound of her name and suspected what was to come. He had never used her Christian name before, and her anticipation was excited. He seemed nervous, though, and wanting to help him along, she decided to lighten the tone of the conversation.
"And what purpose might that be, sir?" she asked with a teasing voice.
As she hoped, her playfulness eased his discomfort and gathering up his courage, he continued.
"I have come here to express to you my love and to tell you that you are dear to me above anyone. I love you so very much. I want you to know that I treasure each moment we have ever spent together and I am looking forward to the time we will share in the future. Please grant me that future. Please accept my pledge to care for you and cherish you for the rest of my life. Please accept me as your constant companion. Please consent to be my wife."
Jane looked at him with an expression of utter joy. While she had expected his addresses, the open avowal of his love brought her happiness she had never before known. These were the very words she wanted to hear. This was the future in which she wanted to live, she by his side, happier with him than she could ever be alone. Her love for Bingley was boundless.
"Yes, I will," she whispered, grasping his hand with both of hers. "I will be so happy to be your wife."
The avowed lovers looked into each other's eyes, their hearts burning in the satisfaction of arriving at a place together they had both longed to be.
Bingley reached into his pocket and brought out the small box that contained a ring.
"This ring, Jane," he said, her name rolling off his lips, "belonged to my mother. Please accept it as a token of my love for you."
She thrilled at the sound of her name being spoken by him. Her every dream, her every wish, had come true.
"Oh, Charles! I do, I do accept it!" His name fell naturally from her lips and she felt as comfortable with it as she was with her own.
He slipped the ring on her finger with a feeling of satisfaction. It fit perfectly.
"I must tell you how much I love you, Charles," cried Jane. "I have never felt more fulfilled or content with my life than I have since I met you. There is nothing I desire more than to be your wife. Thank you for wanting me. Thank you for your love. I have never been so happy!"
Jane held her hand up so she could see the ring in the morning sunlight. It was a brilliant diamond ringed by pearls. Inside the shank of the ring were engraved Bingley's mother's name and wedding date. It was beautiful, and knowing that it had belong to his mother, whom he had dearly loved, increased its importance.
"Thank you, Charles. I will always love you."
He released her hand and caressed the skin of her neck, and then her cheek. The sensations were spinning through her body and she found herself holding her breath. He leaned into her and softly kissed her. She responded by cupping his cheek with her hand as he deepened the kiss. She was lost in the feeling of his lips on hers, the touch of his hand on her skin and the beating of her heart. She knew she belonged to him and resolved at that moment to spend the rest of her life making him happy.
Darcy found himself pacing the floor of his study in London with a letter in his hand. It was another invitation from the Tildens to join them for dinner on Saturday of the next week. He was at odds with himself as to what he should do. It was obvious that his recent behavior toward Miss Tilden had been considered encouraging enough that her father wanted him back in her company. Darcy had no doubt that Miss Tilden would accept his attentions with pleasure.
Miss Tilden was accomplished in the usual sense of the word, playing and singing extremely well. She spoke French, a language that he himself knew, and she enjoyed the theatre and the opera. In fact, she seemed to enjoy all the things that he liked. Coincidence, or conspiracy? She was rich, and well liked in the fashionable circles of London. Except for Lady Catherine, who insisted that he should marry his cousin, Anne, his family, as well as his late parents, would approve of Miss Tilden. Should not that mean the he approve of her as well?
Darcy returned to his desk and penned a note accepting their kind invitation
Bingley had tasted Jane's lips as long as he dare, knowing full well that it was time to return to the house. He released all but her hands, relishing in her acceptance of his love and rejoicing in the thoughts of what the future would bring.
"Jane..."
She loved hearing the sound of her name and was immediately warmed by it. It was his right to so address her, she knew, and she was glad of it.
"...shall we go back into the house so I may speak with your mother?" he asked quietly.
"I like hearing you say my name, Charles," she said breathlessly.
"Then let me say it again, Jane."
She was giggling when Bingley kissed her one last time. He rested his hand over hers when she took his arm for the walk back to the house.
Bingley was not at all concerned about approaching Mrs. Bennet. He knew she would give her consent to any man who wished to marry one of her daughters, and he had to restrain himself from resenting her for it. How could a mother so easily part with a daughter, let alone give her up to any man that presented himself?
Jane left Bingley in the drawing room, and after sending Hill to bring her mother to him, retired upstairs.
Mrs. Bennet was slightly annoyed that Jane should send Hill to summon her, for she was quite comfortable sitting in her dressing room. With a frustrated sigh, she set down her work and followed Hill downstairs to see what her disagreeable daughter was about. She was not expecting to find Mr. Bingley alone and apparently waiting for her. He stood as she entered the room and bowed to her.
"Mrs. Bennet, good morning. I am delighted to see you." As he spoke, he took determined strides towards her and grasped her hand.
Surprised at his action, she could only reply, "And I, you, Mr. Bingley. Where is Jane? Hill said she wanted to see me."
"I am sorry. There must be some confusion, for it is I that wished to speak to you. May we sit down?"
Mrs. Bennet sat herself down and began to fidget with her handkerchief. There could only be one reason why Mr. Bingley would seek her out to speak with her privately.
"Very well, Mr. Bingley, what may I do for you?" Her eyes sparkled with hope.
"I wish to speak of your eldest daughter, Miss Bennet. I wish..."
"Oh, Jane!" interrupted Mrs. Bennet. "She is the loveliest girl in the country, do you not agree? She has by far the sweetest disposition of anyone I know, and is five times as pretty as any of my other girls. The others can be quite wild on occasion, especially Lizzy, but not Jane." She paused to smile at Mr. Bingley. "Jane is as gentle as a lamb."
Bingley began to smile to himself as he listened to Mrs. Bennet's recommendations of Jane, but his smile faded when he discovered her opinion of Elizabeth. When she had done speaking, he continued.
"Mrs. Bennet, I find all of your daughters to be pleasing young women, but I agree with you. Miss Bennet is beautiful and has the disposition of an angel."
Bingley's thoughts returned to that first moment when he had seen Jane in that very room. She had appeared to him to be a gift sent from heaven to make his life happy. Without knowing anything about her, he had made up his mind regarding his own future, and had only hoped he could persuade her to share it with him.
"I am sorry, Mr. Bingley. I believe I interrupted you just now."
Bingley was surprised at how calm he felt and proceeded boldly.
"Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet has accepted my proposal of marriage and I am seeking your blessing on our union."
"Mr. Bingley!" Mrs. Bennet cried. "I am so excited! This is just what I had hoped for her, to marry a young man as handsome and as ... well, of course you have my blessing! Of course you will marry Jane! Let me call her down! Hill! Hill!"
Upon leaving Bingley, Jane had gone directly to Elizabeth's room.
"Lizzy, I am so happy! You will never guess why!" said Jane excitedly as she rushed to Elizabeth.
"Whatever is the matter, Jane? Are you well? You seem quite flushed!" Elizabeth teased. She knew full well what Jane was going to say and began to smile.
"Mr. Bingley has proposed!" cried Jane. "We are to be married! He is speaking with Mama right now!"
"Oh, Jane, you will be so happy." Lizzy hugged her in an embrace that only sisters can share.
"I love him, Lizzy, and he loves me."
Sharing her news with Lizzy had been her first thought after leaving Mr. Bingley.
"Of course he does, Jane, how could he not?" said Elizabeth. She sat on the bed again and pulled Jane down to sit next to her.
"Oh, Lizzy, do not tease me," Jane smiled. "Look at the ring he has given me. It belonged to his mother."
"It is beautiful," Elizabeth smiled. "When will you marry?"
"We have not discussed a date yet, but I hope in the next few weeks. There is no reason to wait. Besides, the shorter the time, the less of a fuss Mama can make." Both the girls laughed, and Lizzy added,
"Not to mention that your Mr. Bingley will not choose to wait, either, I suppose," Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, Jane, I am so happy for you!" They moved to embrace each other once again.
"Thank you. Lizzy, I would like you to stand up with me. Will you?" asked Jane.
"Of course, I will, Jane."
Just then they heard a knock, the door was opened and in walked Hill.
"Miss Bennet, your mother would like to see you in the drawing room."
"Lizzy, I must go to her. I am certain she is with Mr. Bingley. I wanted you to be the first to know of my happiness," said Jane, breathless with joy.
"I am happy for you, Jane. Now run along. Mr. Bingley is waiting for you."
"Thank you, Lizzy."
Jane followed Hill from the room and left Elizabeth alone to her thoughts. Yes, Mr. Bingley would make Jane very happy and she him. They were a well-suited couple. Elizabeth thought with anger on Mr. Darcy. How dare he try to interfere with Jane's happiness! How dare he speak to another person of his feelings for her family! Yes, her mother and sisters had some failings, but they were not proud, arrogant and hurtful like Mr. Darcy!
Elizabeth's thoughts went back to the time at Netherfield when he took her hand while he spoke of his parents. He had seemed so vulnerable, so childlike as his grief was played out on his face. His touch was a comfort to her as she told him of her own sorrow, and at that moment she had felt that nothing could ever come between them. How wrong she was! He had disappointed her and had now tried to hurt Jane.
She was grateful that he was gone and she would never see him again! She was grateful that she did not have to think of him any more.
But how would she ever quit loving him?
Jane was nervous as she answered Hill's summon and walked down from Elizabeth's bedchamber to the drawing room. She had no doubt of her mother's approval, but was anxious just the same. It was with no small sense of relief that Jane could hear her mother's voice from the bottom of the stairs excitedly explaining to Mr. Bingley how happy she was, and how happy Jane would make him. She smiled to herself, knowing that all of it was true.
Mr. Bingley stood as she came in the room. She walked over and stood next to him and he took her hand.
"Jane," said Mrs. Bennet, "you should know that I have given Mr. Bingley my blessing to marry you." Mrs. Bennet pulled Jane into an uncomfortable hug. "I am so happy, you have no idea. You shall be married from Longbourn church just as soon as possible. I am sure there is no reason to wait."
"Thank you, Mama," said Jane. "Mr. Bingley and I wish to marry just as soon as we can."
"There can be no objection to that at all, I am sure. I shall visit you everyday at Netherfield, of course. We shall be so merry. We will plan to go to London and stay with my brother Gardiner and shop for your trousseau. We will get ..."
Jane interrupted a list of purchases that had to be made in preparation for the wedding.
"Mama!" cried Jane. "We shall do no such thing." The thought of being separated from Mr. Bingley now, when all her happiness was assured, was too much. "Whatever I need can be purchased in Meryton. Besides, there is not enough time to wait for the warehouses in London if we are to be married soon."
"Perhaps then you should wait a little while longer," suggested Mrs. Bennet, who felt that wedding clothes were nearly as important to a new marriage as the parson who performed the ceremony.
"Mama, there is no reason to wait!" cried Jane.
"Indeed, ma'am," seconded Bingley with a smile, "I would wish to marry your daughter just as soon as possible."
"Oh, very well," conceded Mrs. Bennet. "If it must be, then so it must. We will make do the best we can." Jane was grateful to have found her mother to be so persuadable on such a point and gave all the credit of it to Mr. Bingley.
"I am so happy, Jane! I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing. Mr. Bingley, you must stay for dinner."
"I would be delighted, Mrs. Bennet," said Bingley thankfully. "There are few things I would like better."
"I shall go tell Cook to make a special dinner," announced Mrs. Bennet, who scurried from the room.
Jane looked over to Bingley with a smile. He stepped closer to her and put his arm around her waist, drawing her close to him.
He could not help himself. He leaned down and kissed her nose. Jane giggled just before he captured her lips with his.
Chapter 12
Caldwell Street, LondonDear Mrs. Bennet,
Thank you very much for your recent letter. I am writing to accept your kind invitation to visit you at Longbourn. As a cousin to Mrs. Gardiner, and hence yours also, it will be a pleasure for me to meet you and your daughters.
I will be accompanied by my daughter, Constance. She is fourteen years of age and a very amiable and well-mannered girl. I am certain that she will make a fine companion for your daughters during our stay with you.
We are both very pleased with the prospect of seeing you all. Please extend my best regards to your family.
Sincerely,
Thomas Grinly
"Girls! Girls! I have wonderful news. A cousin of mine, Mr. Thomas Grinly, is coming to visit," shouted Mrs. Bennet.
All five of her daughters answered their mother's call and assembled in the drawing room from their various employments.
Mary became spokesman for the group. "Who is he, Mama?"
"He is a widower with a fourteen year-old daughter named Constance. He lives on a fine estate in Wiltshire of three thousand a year and has been visiting in London these past two months. I have never met him, but know of him by the report of my sister, Mrs. Gardiner. She has told me all about him. I was pleased with what I heard, so I sent a letter inviting him to stay at Longbourn after his visit to town is complete. Mrs. Gardiner persuaded him to accept my invitation to join us at Longbourn before his long journey home."
"What is he like? What did my aunt say about him?" asked Jane warily. She immediately understood her mother's efforts were at work to obtain in Mr. Grinly a husband for one of her sisters. This knowledge made her all the more grateful for Mr. Bingley, as it removed her as an object of her mother's machinations. She felt empathy for Elizabeth, however. As the next in line in birth, she was the most likely candidate for her mother's schemes on Mr. Grinly.
"Oh, I am sure he is not half so handsome as Mr. Bingley, Jane, but ... I have such high hopes!" cried Mrs. Bennet.
Indeed, the idea of Mr. Grinly marrying one of her daughters would be a constant source of happiness to Mr. Bennet in the coming days. The length of Mr. Grinly's stay had not been determined, but it would surely last until he was engaged to one of her daughters.
"High hopes of what, Mama?" asked Mary.
"Why, of his marrying one of you, of course." Mary shook her head in quiet disgust and returned to her instrument. She could not comprehend the likelihood of her marrying a man twice her age with a daughter almost as old as herself. Of what was her mother thinking?
The days leading to Jane's wedding seemed to fly by as Mrs. Bennet frantically arranged all the details required of an elegant wedding. Bingley spent everyday at Longbourn, arriving early, oftentimes before the ladies were even dressed and staying late till after supper. He was all that was good cheer and happiness. Bingley and Jane were nearly inseparable, but at those times when Jane's presence was required elsewhere, he visited with Elizabeth. If he could not speak with Jane, then he would be glad to talk of her. Elizabeth grew to know him with delight. He was a very intelligent young man with a quick humor. To Jane, he had no faults at all and each night Elizabeth listened with a smile to Jane as she cataloged his good qualities.
"Charles is just what a young man ought to be," said Jane. "He is filled with kindness towards everyone. I have never heard him speak ill of another person." The girls were sitting alone on Elizabeth's bed. The house was asleep and all was quiet.
"Then you two are very similar in thought and disposition, Jane," said Elizabeth, "for I have never heard you speak spitefully of anyone. You are a good match. I am so happy for you."
Indeed, Elizabeth had never seen Jane looking more beautiful, happy and healthy than she was now, and Elizabeth gave Bingley all the credit for these advantages to her sister.
"Thank you, Lizzy."
"Are you at all afraid of the changes about to come to pass in your life?" asked Elizabeth.
The candles in the room colored the fabric of her bedclothes with a softened glow.
"I shall miss you very much, Lizzy, but I am not afraid of marriage, or apprehensive of living with Charles at Netherfield. We shall call often. We are to hire a steward to take my place here and will ensure that all our tenants are well cared for." Jane took Elizabeth's hand and grasped it tightly, and in mild alarm asked, "You are not angry that I am leaving, are you Lizzy?"
"Of course not, Jane," said Elizabeth with a reassuring voice and a squeeze of her hand. She paused for a moment, then catching Jane's eye, added. "You know, my dear sister, Mr. Bingley is a very handsome man."
"Yes, he is," agreed Jane with a laugh.
"It will be quite advantageous to us all to have you so well settled. Do you think your marriage will throw us into the path of other rich men?" asked Elizabeth playfully. The girls dissolved into laughter.
"Well, Lizzy, I suppose you and my sisters will be thrown into the path of at least one rich man when Mr. Grinly calls next week."
"Oh, yes, Mama will not let me forget," Elizabeth said dryly. "It seems I am chosen to be his next wife." And growing more serious, she added, "But I do not want to think about it. Perhaps Mary will do just as well. I would prefer to remain at Longbourn."
Jane's immediate happiness faded as she looked at her sister and she moved next to her and gave her a hug.
"In all the excitement of my own wedding I have been thoughtless of what you must be feeling. Please forgive me, Lizzy. I do not know why Mr. Darcy treated you as he did," Jane said in a soothing voice, "but I am sure he must have loved you."
Elizabeth thought about the many hours she spent with him at Netherfield. Even after what he tried to do to Jane, she would never forget him. Not ever.
In the afternoon of the day before Jane's wedding, a carriage was heard driving up the paddock. Everyone rushed to the window to see whom it might be. It came to a halt and the ladies watched a man and a young woman alight. Soon, a knock was heard. Mrs. Hill answered the door and in a moment she returned to the drawing room followed by the same two people.
"Mrs. Bennet," said Hill, gaining her attention, "Mr. and Miss Grinly."
They all stood to greet the visitors, and Mrs. Bennet welcomed them very graciously to Longbourn.
"Thank you, madam," said Mr. Grinly. "We are delighted to be here. I hope we did not arrive at an inconvenient time."
"Of course not, sir," said Mrs. Bennet. "We are glad that your trip was completed in safety and that you are here with us now. We have been looking forward to your arrival with much anticipation."
"Thank you," replied Mr. Grinly, "that is very kind."
Mr. Grinly surveyed the party around him. He had to confess to being a little anxious at first about accepting the invitation from Mrs. Bennet to stay with the Longbourn family as they were unknown to him, but Mrs. Bennet and her daughters had received such a warm recommendation from Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Upon seeing them for the first time, his immediate impression was that the Bennets were very agreeable people with whom he would enjoy becoming better acquainted. Another advantage of the visit would be that his daughter would have the companionship of young women nearly her own age.
"Allow me to introduce you to my daughters," said Mrs. Bennet. "This is my eldest, Jane, and this is Elizabeth, and Mary, and Kitty, and Lydia." The young ladies curtsied in turn to Mr. Grinly and his daughter.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," said Mr. Grinly as he bowed to them. "And this is Constance, my daughter." Miss Grinly curtsied to the Bennet ladies.
Elizabeth observed that Mr. Grinly had no striking features about him. One would not call him handsome, but he had an air of confidence that spoke of a man of strength and character. He was of medium height, with lively blue eyes and light hair. From both his appearance and the age of his daughter, Elizabeth concluded that Mr. Grinly must be nearly forty years of age.
Miss Grinly had a blossoming figure, and rosy cheeks. She was nearly as tall as Elizabeth, but not quite so handsome. She did not favor her father in looks, for she had dark hair and brown eyes. She was shy and very reserved. It was obvious to all that she enjoyed the love of her father and returned it with equal fervor.
"Oh, you must be so tired," said Mrs. Bennet. "Please, come and sit down. Mary, ring for tea." Mary stood and left the room.
"You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Bennet," complimented Grinly as he led his daughter to a sofa. "Everything is so well appointed. You must enjoy it very much."
"We do enjoy Longbourn and are pleased that you appreciate its beauties," said Mrs. Bennet, who was happy to receive any praise that might come her way. "How did you leave the Gardiners?"
"We saw them two nights ago, Mrs. Bennet, and they were very well. They are such delightful people." And turning to his daughter, Mr. Grinly continued. "Constance enjoyed their children very much. Is not that right, my dear?"
"Yes, Father, they are lovely children," replied Constance. She spoke so quietly that she could hardly be heard from across the room.
Jane smiled at her. "I hope you are well after your long journey, Miss Grinly."
Jane was not able to receive a response to her enquiry into Miss Grinly's well being due to an interruption by her mother.
"Mr. Grinly," said Mrs. Bennet energetically, "my brother and his wife are great friends of ours. They visit above twice a year, and always at Christmas. She is from Lambton, you know, a little town in Derbyshire. My brother, my sister and I grew up here in Meryton. The Gardiners met through an introduction by her father who was in Meryton on business. They tell me it was love at first sight."
"Well, they are a very handsome couple," said Mr. Grinly, "and appear to uncommon advantage together. My cousin and Mr. Gardiner are two of the most pleasant people I know."
A moment of silence prevailed. Before it could grow awkward, Elizabeth took it upon herself to speak.
"Miss Grinly," asked Elizabeth, "did you enjoy your trip through London?"
"Yes, ma'am, very much," answered Constance. She felt nervous and out of place in front of the elder Bennet sisters. She had not spent much time in the company of young women who were older than she, and she had to confess to feeling a little nervous around these new friends.
Elizabeth realized she would receive no more answer than that. Wishing to encourage Miss Grinly, she continued.
"We have an instrument here if you like to play or sing. Mary practices everyday and I am sure would be willing to share her music with you. The garden is very beautiful at this time of year, and you are welcome to walk in it whenever you want. We have many books in the library which are also at your disposal, should you care to read. I confess that reading is one of my favorite pastimes." It was plain to Elizabeth that Constance was uncomfortable and she wanted to put her more at ease.
"I only play a little," whispered Constance. "I prefer to draw." Elizabeth noticed that Miss Grinly's eyes sparkled for a brief instant with the mention of her art and thought perhaps this might be an avenue she could pursue.
"I do not draw at all, but would like very much to watch you, if you do not mind," offered Elizabeth. The faintest of smiles crossed Miss Grinly's lips.
"I would like that. Thank you," said Constance.
"You have come at a wonderful time," said Mrs. Bennet. "Jane is to be married tomorrow and you are both invited."
Every seat at Longbourn church was filled with family, friends and well-wishers come to witness Jane and Bingley's marriage. The atmosphere was gay and everyone was happy. All of Meryton knew this was a love match, and that knowledge made the occasion even sweeter for those in attendance.
Bingley was standing at the front of the church awaiting Jane's arrival. The day had finally arrived of which he had dreamt since first meeting Jane. Today he was to be married, and he would be forever grateful to her for accepting him. She had given him new confidence and strength. His was a heart that needed to love and be loved, and in Jane's tenderness he found all the satisfaction that a man could desire.
Jane had not yet entered the church, so he took the opportunity to look around him to see if Darcy had come. He had not heard from Darcy since his abrupt departure from Netherfield despite Bingley's request that he stand up with him at his wedding. As time had progressed, it became more and more clear that he would not hear from Darcy, so he asked another friend, Mr. Graham. To Bingley's satisfaction, all of his friends were here, all but Mr. Darcy.
All in attendance grew quiet as Jane entered the church. She caught sight of Bingley standing by the altar. His blue eyes flamed with desire for her. She felt herself grow weak and leaned more heavily on Elizabeth's arm.
Jane was surprised that Bingley had chosen Mr. Graham to stand up with him. She was certain that Mr. Darcy would have had that honor, but as she watched Bingley gaze at her, Darcy was quickly banished from her thoughts.
Jane and Bingley kissed ever so gently as the final words pronouncing their union echoed through the church. With Jane on his arm, Bingley led the way through the church where they received the compliments of their friends and neighbors. Jane was pleased to hear herself called Mrs. Bingley. How she had longed for this day! How she had longed for Charles!
Bingley placed his free hand over Jane's and felt himself flush at the feel of her skin. It seemed as if he were touching her for the first time. They shared a knowing glance as they exited the church, the kind of look that only couples who truly love can understand. Bingley handed her into the carriage and they were off to Longbourn for the wedding breakfast.
They had not spoken to each other since she entered the chapel, except for the words they repeated during the ceremony as instructed by the pastor. They had communicated with their eyes, and the brush of a shoulder and the touch of a hand and Bingley was loath to speak. The intense feelings of love and emotion that were engendered by the service hung thickly over them.
Once the carriage pulled away from the church, he moved over to sit next to Jane. He gently caressed her cheek and smiled into her loving eyes. Jane sat still, glorying in his touch, and watched him as he bent down slowly and kissed her, firmly and without reserve.
"Charles, I love you," were the words that finally broke the silence.
Darcy arrived at the Tilden's home in good time for the dinner party and now found himself walking arm and arm with Miss Tilden towards a public park across from her home. It was the very situation he had hoped to achieve. If there were any possible way in which he could attain a favorable insight into her character that would allow him to attach himself to her, it would be on occasions such as this.
"It is always a pleasure to see you," said Miss Tilden.
He felt her lean against him as they walked through a sheltered path to which she had steered their progress
"Thank you for the kind invitation," he said. "I enjoy being with you and your family very much."
Wishing to keep the conversation light, he began humorously. "Have you had any adventures since I saw you last?"
"Adventures?" Miss Tilden laughed. "No, but I have been to a concert."
Darcy was certain that a question such as that would have been rewarded with some light-hearted playfulness from Elizabeth. He believed that Miss Tilden would assume he would not care for such behavior, consequently he would receive no teasing from her. In former times, this would have been true, but Elizabeth had taught him better. There were few things more enjoyable than being the object of Elizabeth's pleasantries.
"What concert was that?" asked Darcy. He led them onto an avenue occupied by other couples rambling in the fresh air, suddenly unwilling to continue alone with Miss Tilden.
"It was a brilliant performance by an Italian soprano. My father escorted me," said Miss Tilden. "She sang a variety of songs from different operas, as well as traditional love songs. It was a remarkable experience. I am quite envious of her talent."
He could not tell if she was sincere, or if she was fishing for a compliment. Thinking it better to err on the side of safety, he spoke accordingly.
"Please do not underrate yourself, Miss Tilden. You play and sing very well," said Darcy.
"Thank you," she said. "I do so enjoy listening to a good tenor. Do you sing, Mr. Darcy?"
"I? No, I never learnt," he answered. "My only foray into the arts was a brief period of acting while I was at school, which I enjoyed very much. My father, however, did not approve, and so I gave it up."
"Fathers can be so tiresome," sighed Miss Tilden.
Darcy recalled the pain he felt when first informed of the death of his father, and feeling his loss as he did now, he considered him to be anything but tiresome.
"Please do not be weary of your father, Miss Tilden," admonished Darcy. "Mine died five years ago and how I wish he were still alive."
A moment of embarrassed silence followed his remark. He was uncomfortable with what he considered to be her indelicacy, and she was painfully aware that she had displeased him.
"Oh! I am sorry!" she cried in mortification. "I did not know. Please excuse me. Please do not think that I do not love my father."
He glanced at her, but said nothing.
"If I may speak frankly, though," said Miss Tilden more calmly. "I believe my father regrets that I was not a son. He is eager to find a match for me, and for me to bear the future heir of Tilden Manor during his lifetime."
Darcy softened towards her when he heard this. He could easily sympathize with anyone who felt they did not live up to the expectations of a parent.
"I am sorry that he finds any regret with you, Miss Tilden," said Darcy. "And you? How do you feel about his efforts at marrying you off? I suppose that you will go to the highest bidder?"
Miss Tilden laughed. She had a cheery voice, though not quite as pleasant to listen to as was Elizabeth's. Elizabeth... Darcy tried to catch himself in the thought, but it was too late.
He cut off any response Miss Tilden may have been inclined to make. "I think we should return to the house, Miss Tilden."
She looked up at him, and wondered at the sudden appearance of sadness in his eyes. They did not speak again until they arrived at the house and he offered to assist her in ascending a small flight of stairs.
They were met in the entryway of the home by Mr. Tilden, who had been pleased to send them off together into the park and now eagerly searched their faces for any sign of attachment. Determined that the night should not pass away without some progress in that quarter, he concluded that he would speak with Mr. Darcy alone about the hopes and dreams he had for his daughter.
"Did you enjoy your walk, Clara?" he asked with a smile towards Mr. Darcy.
"Very much, Father."
She noticed her father's glance at Darcy and excused herself.
Both men watched Miss Tilden's receding figure as she walked down the hall. When she was out of sight, Mr. Tilden invited Darcy to join him in his study.
Mr. Tilden's study contained a large desk, several family likenesses on the walls and rows of books on finely finished shelves. The desk was very ornate, but was too large for the room. The books were all very handsome, but appeared to be unread. If Mr. Tilden's study was a reflection of his mind, then here was a man who depended on appearances to make up for deficiencies in more serious matters.
"Mr. Darcy, may I get you a drink?"
"No, thank you, sir." Whatever Mr. Tilden was about, Darcy wanted a clear head to encounter him, and he did not want to be off his guard later when conversing again with his daughter.
"I want you to know how much we enjoy your company here in our home. Clara tells me she is very pleased with your visits." Mr. Tilden poured himself a glass of port.
"She is a pleasant young woman, sir. You should be proud of her," commented Darcy, recalling Miss Tilden's apprehension that her father was not.
"I am, of course. Thank you," he replied. Darcy was not convinced.
Mr. Tilden continued. "I asked you in here specifically to talk about her. I do not know how deep your concern for her runs."
Darcy began to grow uncomfortable. The truth of the game he had been playing suddenly became clear to him. Here was a father who believed that Darcy's intentions ran in a way that would lead to marriage with his daughter. While Darcy had tried to convince himself that this was his wish as well, he suddenly realized that he was caught in his own finely spun web of self-delusion.
He could only listen as Mr. Tilden spoke on. "I have been blessed in my life with many advantages, and have been able to provide for Clara accordingly. She has a dowry of twenty five thousand pounds and at my death will inherit Tilden Manor." Mr. Tilden looked directly at Darcy. His next statement left no room for doubt. " I am seeking a good match for her, sir."
These are the very things he had thought he wanted to hear. This is why he had left Elizabeth. This is why he had been visiting with the Tildens. But now...
Where was the joy? Why did he suffer under a feeling of apprehension. The decision to marry was to bring the relief one feels upon arriving home after a long journey, but all he felt was a chill. There was no warmth or happiness. What was wrong? He had done everything his father had told him to do.
Darcy's attention was drawn back to Mr. Tilden.
"Mr. Darcy, I am seeking a worthy alliance for her, though I know that it might seem presumptuous to extend my efforts to such a one as yourself. I would like you to know that I am willing to add an additional ten thousand pounds to her dowry should you feel it appropriate. I know that money matters are important in bringing about successful matches and I would not want her prospects jeopardized. Clara is a sweet girl, but I know that it sometimes takes more than sweetness to bring about a good marriage."
The horror of Mr. Tilden's proposal struck Darcy forcibly. Here was a man trying to sell his daughter! What if that daughter could not be happy? Who was the fortune hunter and who was the hunted?
Darcy imagined what his life would be like if he married Miss Tilden. The sound of her voice pronouncing his name would become revolting. In an effort to avoid his wife, he would be separated from his beloved Pemberley by continual absence. He would have no respect for his own children and he realized that he would do to them what his own father had done to him. He would abandon them.
If he followed in his father's footsteps, Darcy concluded, he would be as isolated and as alone as he had been. If he lived up to his father's expectations, he would end up just as miserable. The truth dawned on him at this moment of realization and bone-chilling clarity. For his own sake, and for the sake of his children and their consequent happiness, he must marry a woman he could love and respect. And the woman that he loved was Elizabeth Bennet.
Darcy could barely maintain his seat as a searing heat passed through his mind convicting him of his foolishness. He had left Elizabeth. He had willingly parted from her, denying himself the very love he sought. What pain had he inflicted on her? If she had thought of him in the same way he now considered her, what agony she must be suffering. Dare he flatter himself that now, after all the sorrow he had caused her, she would agree to accept him? The bile rose in his throat as he experienced a feeling of naked self-loathing. His mind flickered from the taste of Elizabeth's lips to the vileness of Mr. Tilden's offer. What had he become that he could turn from the first and fall victim to the second?
Recollecting himself, Darcy attempted a graceful retreat.
"Well, Mr. Tilden, I do not know if I am in a position to know my own heart on the matter. I should not wish to marry without love." He would never marry Miss Tilden, not for all her father's money.
"Of course not, Mr. Darcy. It is just important to love the right woman." Mr. Tilden paused to let the effect of his words sink in. "Shall we join the others?"
There was no question in Darcy's mind as to who was the right woman!
Later that evening, Darcy sat glumly in the library of his townhouse staring blankly into a glass of brandy. Today was his closest friend's wedding and he was not there. He knew he had disappointed Bingley and was ashamed of it. While it was true that Bingley might have married with greater status and prestige, he had chosen to marry for love. What greater gift could there be for a man than a woman who loved him? Too late he had come to realize the value of such a gift.
Bingley had every right to be happy, and Darcy envied him his joy, for he knew he himself had every reason to be miserable. Perhaps today he could have been married to Elizabeth. He had been wrong in trying to separate Bingley from Miss Bennet, he had been wrong in leaving Elizabeth and he had been wrong about himself. As a man who had always tried to do right, the magnitude of his errors of late had left him humiliated and confounded. He picked up his pen.
LondonBingley -
Let me congratulate you on your marriage. I wish you joy and happiness with Miss Bennet, who by now will be Mrs. Bingley. You, of all people, truly do deserve to be happy.
Please allow me to apologize for my recent behavior. I know I have offended you, and I deeply regret it. My motivations in trying to persuade you against marrying Miss Bennet were self-serving and wrong. You deserved better counsel in your decision than I gave you and you were right in refusing to be persuaded. The firmness of mind and steadiness of character that you exhibited in your determination to marry Miss Bennet are a testimony to your natural goodness. Miss Bennet has been very fortunate in her choice of husband, and I have no doubt that she will make you as happy as you will her.
I know that I have offended Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I pray that she and your wife may someday forgive me. Parting from Elizabeth is the worst mistake I have ever made.
Please give my best wishes to your new bride.
Sincerely,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
He folded the letter and marked it for express post. It would go out tomorrow and hopefully by nightfall Bingley would once again think on him kindly.
Chapter 13
Mrs. Bennet received many compliments on Jane's wedding breakfast. She was particularly gratified by the comments of Lady Lucas, who told her she had never attended such an elegant affair. Mrs. Bennet had made it as elaborate as possible so that no one in Hertfordshire could forget her triumph in marrying Jane off to Mr. Bingley. She was also feeling quite pleased with herself for having arranged the match in the first place, for had she not insisted that Elizabeth remain at Netherfield, who knows what might have happened? Her thoughts were running along these lines when they were interrupted by Mr. Grinly.
"Mrs. Bennet, let me offer you my sincerest congratulations on the marriage of your daughter," he said. "She looked beautiful and I have never seen anyone so happy. It must be a great comfort to you to have a daughter married to a man who truly loves and admires her." Indeed, Miss Bennet's marriage had put him in mind of his own, and those memories were very pleasant. He hoped she would enjoy the same happiness that he had known.
"It is a pleasing thing, to be sure, to know she is so well settled," cried Mrs. Bennet. "Mr. Bingley has five thousand a year, at least. She will have such carriages, such jewels and such pin money that I cannot even begin to imagine. I am so happy."
Mrs. Bennet was nearly breathless after rapidly enunciating all Mr. Bingley's advantages. Her dearest wish had been accomplished in the marriage of her eldest daughter. She felt that Jane had raised the prospects of all the rest of the girls and fully expected that Jane would be instrumental in orchestrating the marriages of her sisters to men of rank and fortune with whom she must necessarily become acquainted as the mistress of Netherfield.
"Surely, madam, she married him not for his money but for his affection," said Mr. Grinly with some feeling. He was convinced that Jane was no fortunehunter. The manner in which she looked at her husband spoke of love and esteem, not avarice.
Elizabeth, who was sitting at a writing table in the drawing room, sympathized with Mr. Grinly's incredulity at such a statement. To her, though, it came as no surprise, being no stranger to her mother's opinions on marriage.
"Yes," said Mrs. Bennet, "she loves him and he loves her, I am sure."
Mr. Grinly was shocked at her callous view of marriage. He remembered his own dear Julia with fondness. How she had loved him! The advantages he could offer meant nothing to her. He could not help but fall in love with her the first time he saw her. The way Julia had looked at him, that particular expression of tenderness in her eyes, had captured his heart. As he grew to know her, he realized what a treasure she was. She had been a poor tradesman's daughter with no dowry or property and her father was old and sickly. Julia's father had been pleased to give her away. It seemed, though, that she had been his lifeline, for not long after they married he died. Now his Julia was gone, having left him with a daughter. Constance was the true image of her mother, and when he looked at her, his heart was filled with both joy and pain. Joy because of the love he felt for Constance and pain as he reflected on the loss of Julia.
Julia had asked him, before she died, to marry again, for his own sake and for Constance. He had told her that she would be his only love. Julia responded by saying that she hoped he took pleasure in being married to her well enough that he could not do without love in his life. Please, she had begged, do not spend your life alone. Do not leave Constance without a mother. One of the hardest things he had ever done was promise her that he would try. This admission had brought on fresh tears, which Julia tried to comfort. It was the beginning of the full realization that he would soon be without her.
That had been eight years ago. Never once had he found a woman that he imagined her equal. He mourned for himself and he mourned for Constance, who was left with only fleeting memories of a mother who loved her.
"I believe," he told Mrs. Bennet, "that love should be the primary motivation for marriage. How can life be pleasant where one partner cannot respect or esteem the other? To me, any alternative would be unendurable."
Elizabeth raised her eyes to Mr. Grinly, pleased to find he shared her opinion of marriage. She had been impressed with everything about him and this only made her appreciate him more.
Mr. Grinly was correct. She would only marry a man she could respect, one for whom she felt the deepest love and affection. If not, she would remain at Longbourn. She knew that Mr. Bingley would allow her mother and sisters to live there as long as they wanted, for the rest of their lives, if necessary. Because she had bestowed her love on Mr. Darcy and been mistaken about him, she knew very well that in her case, at least, it might be necessary.
Finally, the Netherfield was empty and Jane and Bingley were alone. Miss Bingley had just departed for London and the servants had been given the day off. Everyone attached to the household was gone, except for Mrs. Thomas, who refused to let the Bingleys be without the comfort of dinner and a warm fire. She discretely kept to the servant's quarters awaiting their summons, should they need her.
Jane was sitting in front of an ornate mirror brushing out her hair. It was odd to be sitting in such luxury and to know this would be her life from now on. At Longbourn, she had never known the pleasure of her own personal maid, but rather had to share Sarah's services with her sisters. Now Maria would assume sole responsibility as her maid, and there would be a servant waiting outside her apartments to carry and receive messages or bring anything she desired.
She felt nervous with anticipation. She had changed into a silky white nightgown. The way it moved over her skin caused her to shiver from delight. It was plain, without any ornamentation. It was simple, like her love for Charles. She simply loved him, that was all.
Jane heard his knock at the door and smiled.
"Come in."
Bingley closed the door behind him, but remained at the far side of the room, seeking in her eyes the permission he felt he needed to approach her.
"Good evening," she said. He was obviously tense and uncertain. As am I, thought Jane. For both their sakes she felt it best if she lighten the mood.
"My name is Mrs. Charles Bingley," she said brightly.
Bingley smiled at her, then replied, "And I am Mr. Charles Bingley. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance."
"No more than I, sir."
Bingley saw with pleasure the sparkle of delight in her eyes. "I am told that I was married today," he said. "Could you possibly be my wife?" He took a single step towards her.
"I do not know," she said, inching closer to him. "Perhaps if you were to describe her to me, I could tell you whether I have seen her."
"Well, she is extremely beautiful. She is tall and has lovely blonde hair that pours over her shoulders when she lets it down. Her laughter is like music. I love the sound of her voice. I love everything about her."
"What else can you tell me about her?" asked Jane. She again moved closer to him.
"She has beautiful blue eyes that illuminate her whole face when she smiles. They seem to speak of the joy she feels in being alive."
"If she is married to you, I can understand why she might feel such joy."
She watched him take a step nearer to her. Only a very few steps remained between them.
"Oh, I should mention her skin," he said. "It is soft and delicate to the touch. When I touch her my heart nearly bursts from my chest. She is truly the best of women."
Jane continued her progress towards Bingley.
"Have you ever kissed her?" she asked.
"Yes. I can still remember the taste of her lips and the way I felt when I took her in my arms and she returned my embrace. It is a pleasure of which I could never tire."
Bingley reached out his hand to her and she took it. He encouraged her forward until she was standing next to him.
"If I knew where she was, I would touch her face like this."
Bingley outlined her lips with his fingers. She rested her hands on his arms and looked at him.
"Would you like to kiss her again?"
"There could be no greater happiness," he said as he gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
Bingley woke up from the distraction of something passing over his face. With his eyes still closed, he reached up to brush it away and found himself holding a lock of Jane's lightly perfumed hair. He drew in a deep breath to enjoy the fragrance and all the memories it inspired, memories of such love and passion as he would never forget.
Jane was an angel. Had he thought her beautiful before, those thoughts were nothing in comparison to reality. He had imagined her to be sensitive and gentle, but had never experienced such tenderness.
Oh, how he loved her! She fulfilled his every conceivable desire with the magic of new discovery. He would cherish and love her for the rest of his life.
Jane opened her eyes and instinctively knew he was awake.
"Good morning, Charles," she whispered as he pulled her more closely against him.
"Good morning, my darling," he replied. "I want you to know how much I love you, Jane. Thank you for marrying me. Thank you for coming into my life."
She rolled over in his arms and buried her face in his chest. She snaked her arms around his neck and pulled herself up to face him.
"If your feelings for me are anything like mine for you, then I do know how you feel."
As their lips came together, Bingley had only time to whisper a single word - "Jane."
In the servant's quarters, Mrs. Thomas peeled an apple, patiently waiting for a summons that never came.
Later that day, as they were drinking tea in the drawing room and discussing the details of their wedding day, Jane decided to ask her husband about his friend's absence. She could not imagine anything that would keep Mr. Darcy away from his best friend's wedding.
"Charles, why did not Mr. Darcy come to our wedding?"
Bingley knew that at some time or other Jane would wonder why Darcy had not come. It was a conversation he wished to avoid.
"He was called away on urgent business," replied Bingley uncomfortably, reluctantly giving into a falsehood. He knew full well the reason Darcy had not come to their wedding and it had nothing to do with business.
"Business?" she repeated.
"Well..."
"But if that were the case, how did Mr. Graham know to come to stand up with you?" asked Jane. She could tell that her husband was growing more uncomfortable with each moment.
"Darcy knew he would not be able to come," confessed Bingley. He set down his cup, pulled her close and kissed her hair. "We did not..." He could not continue.
Jane did not understand his behavior. Bingley was always forthcoming and open, but now he seemed so hesitant and reluctant. "Charles, is something troubling you?" she asked.
Bingley seemed distressed, she thought, and could only conclude that there had been a gross misunderstanding between her husband and Mr. Darcy.
"Well, Charles, I am sorry he could not come, but it was very unkind of him. How could he allow himself to be called away? What could possibly have been the problem?" She thought for a moment. "Did you quarrel?"
He paused. "We did have a disagreement, Jane."
Bingley wished she would not pursue the matter any further. He hoped to be reconciled to his friend and did not want Jane biased against him.
"What did it concern?" she asked, tenderly pushing through his hesitation.
There another was a pause. She looked up at him in some astonishment.
"Must we talk about it?" he asked as she caught his eye.
Bingley knew if he spoke the truth, his wife would be forever prejudiced against Darcy, though certainly it would not be without just cause. Bingley cherished hopes that Darcy would witness his happiness with Jane and would change his opinion.
"Very well, Charles." She stroked his cheek. "But it does seem odd that he would not come." She took his hand and kissed it, then held it against her cheek. "He is a strange man by way of a friend, Charles."
Bingley was quiet for a moment. His eyes were closed and his brow was furrowed, and he found himself forced to agree with her. What kind of a friend was Darcy?
"He attempts to look after me," responded Bingley.
"But?" she prompted.
"But I would not listen to his advice."
"And just what was this piece of advice which caused all this difficulty?" asked Jane, her curiosity more than aroused.
Bingley hesitated, but made a choice.
"He did not ... he said I should not ... he recommended that ... that I not marry you," stuttered Bingley. He followed this strangled sentence with a sigh.
"He said that?" This was nearly unbelievable.
He responded to her with a slight nod of his head.
"But why?"
Bingley's pain was evident in his voice. "He thought I should marry a woman with a rich dowry, a woman of fashion and society, who could bring me wealth and status." Even as he spoke the words, Bingley realized what a fool Darcy had been.
"I am not that kind of woman, Charles, as you well know," Jane said, and with some alarm, she added, "You do not regret marrying me, do you?"
Jane became tense and afraid, and drew back from him. She knew how heavily Bingley relied on Darcy's advice.
Bingley felt her efforts to move away and held her close.
"Oh, Jane!" cried Bingley. "Not at all! I regret nothing! I told him that I wanted to marry someone who loved me and whom I loved in return, and that every other consideration was irrelevant in the face of this desire. I do love you, Jane, and all I wanted was to be with you forever."
He felt her relax in his arms.
"How could Mr. Darcy call himself your friend, but say all of those things? No wonder he stayed away. He thought I was ruining your life!" Jane said bitterly.
She paused as a realization struck her. "This is why he left Elizabeth! He felt she was not good enough for him, so he broke her heart. Cruel, cruel man! I hope I never see him again!"
Bingley thought about what she had said. All of it was true. Darcy had tried to take Jane away from him and he had hurt his new sister, Elizabeth, whom he very much admired. He and Darcy had been friends for many years, but in just a few weeks, Darcy had managed to injure the two women most important to him. What kind of a friend was that?
Longbourn was relatively quiet with its inhabitants either absent or pursing their usual diversions in silence. Constance and Mary were reading, Kitty and Lydia had gone into Meryton and Mrs. Bennet was sitting at her needlework. Elizabeth had left the house, saying that she was going to walk in the garden. Mr. Grinly, having arrived at a good stopping place in the book he was reading, determined on following her example and quitted the house.
Mr. Grinly's solitary thoughts were directed to the wedding of the day before, and he compared it to his own fifteen years ago. It had fulfilled every wish he had for happiness. Then Julia died and his life had been clouded ever since. Constance was his only real source of joy, but if he were to be honest, he would have to confess that he was not happy. Perhaps Julia was right. Perhaps he should marry again.
As Mr. Grinly was walking away from the house he espied Elizabeth seemingly lost in thoughts of her own as she progressed across the lawn towards the back of the garden. He was immediately struck by how attractive she looked with the sun on her dark hair and paused for a moment to watch her before resuming his walk. She heard his approach, turned around and greeted him with a wave.
"Good morning, Mr. Grinly," she said.
"Good morning to you, Miss Bennet." He wondered if she had caught him staring at her. With some color, he said, "You certainly do have a pretty garden here."
She did not notice his confusion. "Yes, I enjoy it very much. It is a beautiful day for walking. Where is Constance?" asked Elizabeth. It was rare to see Mr. Grinly without his daughter.
"She is in the drawing room, with a book," he answered. Elizabeth's voice was pleasant to listen to, her face and eyes were animated and she appeared to take a real interest in him. It was a pleasure to be with her.
"I must tell you, Mr. Grinly, how much I like her. She is such a sweet girl," said Elizabeth.
"Thank you," said Grinly. "I am glad you like her. I confess that I enjoy every minute I spend with her."
Elizabeth began walking again and he fell into step beside her.
"I know you have not been in Hertfordshire long, sir, but how do you find the country so far?" she asked.
"I feel very much at home here. The air is refreshing, and the colors are so vibrant. There is a great feeling of vitality and freshness to the whole place that I like very much," he replied. He once again noticed Elizabeth's beauty and realized those same words could be applied to her as well.
"I am glad you like it," Elizabeth said. "I never grow used to the beauties of Hertfordshire."
They progressed a little further, then Grinly began speaking of the thoughts that had occupied his mind when he set out on his walk.
"The wedding was beautiful, was it not, Miss Bennet?"
"Yes, it was," replied Elizabeth smiling. "Jane was such a lovely bride and Mr. Bingley looked very handsome. It is a pleasure to behold two people so much in love."
"I am certain they will be happy," he said.
They continued on in silence for a moment, but Elizabeth did not mind it, for she was not uncomfortable around Mr. Grinly. In fact, he made her feel quite at ease. She felt that he placed no demands on her such as might make her feel obliged to talk or behave in a certain way. Both he and his daughter were very kind, unassuming people.
"Tell me, Mr. Grinly," began Elizabeth, "did you like London?"
"I liked it well enough," he answered. "I have not been to town in several years. The place has grown larger and there are more people than I remember. There are many new buildings, and the parks add such charm to the neighborhoods. Although it was exciting to be there, I confess that I do prefer the retirement of the country. But, of course, I enjoyed the time we spent with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner very much."
"I enjoy staying with my Aunt Gardiner," she said, "but I also confess to preferring the country. Did you find any amusement in the public places and the assemblies?" asked Elizabeth. Even as she spoke, she suspected that his duties as a father would prevail over other interests.
"No, I did not want to leave Constance alone. While she is my daughter, Miss Bennet, she is also my best friend and I did not want to be separated from her. She is not yet out in society and I felt that the public dances were not appropriate for her. But she attended the theatre and concerts with me, which we both enjoy very much. We went as often as possible, which will provide hours of conversation for us during the evenings at Sappingford.
Elizabeth admired his commitment to Constance and felt she was fortunate to have such a father.
"Sappingford is your home?" Elizabeth surmised.
"Yes, it is a modest estate in Wiltshire. I have lived there all my life," he said.
"What is the country like there?" she asked. As their opinions coincided so precisely regarding Hertfordshire, she was interested in learning what he had to say about his own county.
"It is very hilly and covered in trees. I take great pleasure in watching the sunset from the top of a knoll near our home. Constance and I frequently walk there in the evenings. The closest town of any significance is Westbury, which is about an hour's ride by coach. I sometimes feel that Constance must be terribly lonely. She does not enjoy much female companionship, and I am sure she would benefit from associating with other young women more frequently than the monthly assemblies allow."
"She is a beautiful young lady, sir. You must be proud of her," commented Elizabeth. If she were ever to be a mother, she thought, she would like a daughter like Constance.
"Oh, I am, very much so."
"If I might ask," continued Elizabeth, "how old was she when her mother passed away?"
"She was only six years old."
"I am so sorry," said Elizabeth gently.
"From my conversations with Constance, I have come to know that she only has fleeting memories of her mother, and these grow fainter with time. I cannot even imagine growing up without a mother. There is only so much a father can do for a daughter, you know. I try my best, but I feel as though I fail her. I do not always understand her," lamented Grinly. Female companionship, he realized, was what Julia wished for Constance when she had encouraged him to marry again after her death.
"I am certain, Mr. Grinly," she said, "that your love for her is sufficient to provide her with everything she will need in life."
"It is difficult knowing what is right. Oftentimes I feel quite helpless."
"Helpless?" she repeated. Elizabeth was surprised that he would feel so. "Forgive me, sir, but Constance's manners, her understanding and her conversation speak to the contrary. You should feel more confident, Mr. Grinly, for you are bringing her up very well. Anyone who sees her must know that. It is obvious to me that you are an excellent father to her."
She spoke warmly, perhaps more so than she intended, but it pained her to see him undervalue himself. He was a good man and deserved her praise and respect.
He was grateful for her assurances. His natural feelings of inadequacy as a parent delighted in any form of encouragement. He also understood them to be perhaps a sign of some regard on her part, a feeling that was not at all unpleasant.
They exchanged a look and a smile and continued on in silence.
Elizabeth was sitting quietly at work in the drawing room when Constance came up to her. Her behavior was more shy and diffident than usual, and Elizabeth believed that something must be the matter. Set on relieving her uneasiness, she offered Constance her hand.
"Miss Grinly," said Elizabeth gently, "please come and sit with me."
Constance took her hand and Elizabeth sat her down on the sofa next to her. She held tightly onto Elizabeth's hand and sat looking at her for moment with a weak smile.
"Miss Bennet...," Constance blurted, then she hesitated, searching Elizabeth's face for some sign of encouragement. She found it, and struggled to speak once again. "Miss Bennet, I know that you and your sister, Mrs. Bingley, are quite close."
"Yes, we are," replied Elizabeth cautiously.
"It must be a great loss to you to have her living so far off."
"Netherfield is only three miles away," smiled Elizabeth. "I shall see her very often."
"I mean...well...here I am, Miss Bennet...a perfect stranger...occupying her room."
Rallying her courage, Constance finished her thought. " I suppose I am a little uneasy by it. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable."
Elizabeth considered for a moment what might be the best way to respond, the best way to lighten the situation and put Constance at ease.
"Miss Grinly, since we are friends, you must call me Elizabeth. In my mind there is only one Miss Bennet and she is lately married."
Constance visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Elizabeth. And you must call me Constance."
"Thank you. Constance," said Elizabeth soothingly, "please do not feel that you are intruding. I am very happy that you can make use of Jane's room, for if not, where would I find such a friend as you?" Elizabeth pulled her into a warm embrace.
This uncertainty had been a cause of worry to Constance, but she now felt much more like herself again. She knew that in a very short time she had grown close to Elizabeth and had found in her the friend she wished she had in Wiltshire.
Elizabeth could sense Constance's regard and returned it equally. The young lady was as gentle and considerate as Jane was, which endeared her to Elizabeth even more.
Constance wanted a friend during her stay at Longbourn, and while all the Miss Bennets were very kind to her, she felt as if she did not quite fit in. Catherine and Lydia were wild after men and officers, and Constance felt awkward participating in an activity she felt was improper, as well as considering herself too young to be forming any attachments. Mary's attitude of preaching against any pleasure was not endurable for any length of time. It seemed impossible to get to know her. That left Elizabeth, who was six years her senior.
"Tell me about your home, Constance?" asked Elizabeth. "Your father mentioned that it is a place called Sappingford, in Wiltshire."
"Yes, it is. It is a lovely old home, though too isolated for my taste. I spend much of my time alone. I do have friends but I see them only at the assemblies in Westbury."
"Has your father considered remarrying? It might be a comfort to you if there were another woman in the home," said Elizabeth.
"It would be," agreed Constance, "if she loved me."
"I doubt very much your father would marry someone that did not like you. Besides, it would be a strange person who could not," remarked Elizabeth, with a smile for the girl.
"My poor father misses my mother so much. I wish I had been the one who had died, and not my mother. So much happiness is missing from his life. If he were to remarry, it should be for his sake, not mine."
Constance was always concerned about her father's wellbeing. She had reflected on the subject of his loneliness many times before, but it always led to feelings of melancholy. Hoping to avoid such emotions now, she changed the subject.
"Elizabeth, who made that pretty needlework framed by the entryway?"
"Oh, that old thing? I did, if you must know. I made it for my father when I was about your age. He hung it in his library. After he died, Jane moved it out here. She said it was too pretty to hide," answered Elizabeth with a blush.
Constance paused to admire the sampler, then asked, "Elizabeth, would you teach me to stitch like that? I never learnt."
"Certainly," Elizabeth said cheerfully, "I would be delighted."
The next afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Bingley called at Longbourn. It was Jane's first visit as a married woman. A few days ago it was her home, but now she felt like a stranger. It is just a house, she thought to herself.
Mrs. Bennet met them in the entryway as soon as they were announced by Mrs. Hill.
"Mr. Bingley, Mrs. Bingley, welcome to Longbourn!" cried Mrs. Bennet as she ran up to them.
"Thank you, Mama," said Jane as she stepped up to her mother to kiss her cheek.
"I am so glad you are here! Come into the drawing room so we can all talk," said Mrs. Bennet eagerly. "Oh, Jane, you look beautiful. Come along, Mr. Bingley."
Mrs. Bennet was all pleasure and happiness. Jane, in having attracted such a wonderfully rich man as Mr. Bingley, was now her favorite daughter, and she also took great pride in her own efforts at insuring they were a match. Mrs. Bennet was still receiving compliments from friends and neighbors about the wedding breakfast and took no inconsiderable pleasure from it. Now, on seeing Jane for the first time, and finally able to call her Mrs. Bingley, her joy was nearly full. All that remained to make it complete would be an attachment between one of her daughters and Mr. Grinly. She was determined that he would not leave the country without taking one of them to wife.
Jane's four sisters were in the drawing room. Bingley quickly stepped up to them, and with a bow and a flourish, said,
"Ladies, allow me to introduce my wife, Mrs. Charles Bingley."
The ladies clapped their approval and Elizabeth smiled at the blush on Jane's cheeks.
"And I am your new brother," he laughed, "Charles Bingley, at your service."
The girls rushed up to them to greet Jane as Mrs. Bingley and claim Mr. Bingley as their brother. It was a wonderful moment for Elizabeth, who observed Jane glowing with happiness. It was plain that all of Elizabeth's hopes of happiness for Jane were being fulfilled.
Elizabeth was the last of the sisters to present herself to Mrs. Bingley.
"Jane, congratulations!" cried Elizabeth as she embrace her. "And you look so beautiful!" And, in a mischievous and conspiratorial tone of voice, asked, "Is Mr. Bingley taking good care of you?"
"Oh, Lizzy," Jane could not hide her joy, "he is the most wonderful man!" And in a subdued tone, Jane added, "I know that Papa would have liked Charles."
Elizabeth took Jane's hand and looked deeply into her eyes.
"Yes, I know he would have, Jane," Elizabeth whispered.
Just then, Mr. Grinly and Miss Grinly joined them in the drawing room, having come to see who was visiting.
"Mr. Grinly," began Mrs. Bennet, "there was such a large gathering at the wedding, please let me introduce you properly to Mr. Bingley, Jane's new husband," said Mrs. Bennet loudly. "Mr. Bingley, Mr. Grinly is my cousin and has lately been staying in London with the Gardiners."
Bingley bowed to them, pleased with the introduction.
"Mr. Grinly, Miss Grinly, it is a pleasure to see you both," said Bingley. "Thank you for coming to our wedding."
"Allow me to present my daughter, Constance." Constance curtsied and blushed in a becoming manner. Elizabeth wondered what it would be like to be always nervous in the company of strangers
Jane walked up to Constance and offered her hand to her. "It is nice to see you again, Miss Grinly."
"Thank you," whispered Constance.
The whole party was seated in the drawing room. Jane found herself next to Mr. Grinly and took it upon herself to begin the conversation.
"Well, Mr. Grinly, how are you enjoying Longbourn?" she asked.
"Mrs. Bingley, I have experienced nothing but pleasure and relaxation since I have been here," replied Mr. Grinly. "The country is a healthy change from the fuss and dirt of London."
"But there are many diversions in London," commented Jane. "My Aunt Gardiner, whom you know, resides there and Elizabeth and I often stay with her. She takes us to the theatre, the opera and the outside concerts - amusements that are sorely lacking in Hertfordshire. The shops and stores are delightful."
Mr. Grinly would not argue. "You are right, Mrs. Bingley. There are many good things about London." Mr. Grinly paused, then continued. "Will you remain long at Netherfield?"
"Yes, we consider ourselves quite at home there," said Jane, "and it is such an advantage to me to be settled so near my friends and family. I could not be more pleased."
"Netherfield is a beautiful home. Mrs. Bennet took Constance and me over to the house one day to see the park. I hope you are pleased with it."
"I am, and I am glad that you like it," said Jane. "It is so wonderful living there. Charles spoils me with luxuries I have never known. Everyday is so new and exciting for me."
"There is no greater pleasure than basking in the love of your partner in life. I wish you joy," said Grinly.
"Thank you. Will you be long in the area, Mr. Grinly?" asked Jane.
"Our plans are not yet fixed. We spent six weeks in London and the surrounding area. Our visit to Longbourn has been very agreeable. Your mother is a gracious hostess and your sisters are very pleasant. Miss Elizabeth has been especially kind to Constance. It is a pleasure for me to watch them together. She is teaching her some needlework, and everyday Constance tells me how much she enjoys Miss Elizabeth and about all the things of which they talk. It warms my heart to see it," said Mr. Grinly.
"Elizabeth's goodness," said Jane, "makes her a favorite with everyone."
Mr. Grinly did not reply, but his mind had not wandered far from the subject. His eyes had searched to the part of the room where Elizabeth was sitting.
Jane followed his line of sight, then returned to him just in time to see a look of dawning recognition mingled with yearning.
"Elizabeth has a lively personality," continued Jane. "When anyone is with her, they cannot help but feeling happier. She brightens any room she is in with her pleasing laughter and gentle smile. She is my best friend."
Recollecting himself, he turned his attention back to Jane and said, "That is quite a recommendation, Mrs. Bingley. She is a delightful young woman."
Jane, though not a person to be runaway with by romantic notions, could not escape a thought. The expression on his face as he looked at Elizabeth was filled with such meaning. Jane considered the possibility that Mr. Grinly was attracted to Elizabeth. Indeed, from what she knew of Mr. Grinly, he was a pleasing man, and Constance was lovely. Perhaps...
Her thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Bennet. "Mr. Grinly, you must tell Mrs. Bingley about your beautiful home in Wiltshire. Jane, it is a remarkable place called Sappingford and is worth three thousand a year!" Mrs. Bennet passed a greedy eye over Mr. Grinly, wondering which daughter might do for him.
"Mother! Please!" exclaimed Jane, who was nearly overwhelmed with embarrassment.
"I am only saying what is true. Am I not, Mr. Grinly?" asked Mrs. Bennet most impertinently.
Mr. Grinly laughed. "I am partial to Sappingford as the handsomest home in the country, Mrs. Bennet."
Following this exchange Hill called Mrs. Bennet to the dining room and the others were left alone.
Once she was gone, Jane turned to Mr. Grinly and said, "I apologize for my mother, Mr. Grinly. She had no right to say those things, but you need not be uncomfortable, for you are among friends."
Elizabeth nodded her assent, very willing to admit Mr. Grinly as a friend. Kitty and Lydia were whispering to each other and did not seem to notice that anything might be amiss.
"Thank you, Mrs. Bingley. Please do not make yourself uneasy. Mrs. Bennet is an enthusiastic woman and eager, I have noticed," he said with a laugh, "to get your sisters married and settled just as soon as may be."
Jane could not help but change color, but was quickly able to laugh with him.
The Bingleys were to remain to dinner, and in the afternoon, Jane had the pleasure of seeing Elizabeth speaking quietly with Mr. Grinly and Constance for a considerable period of time. Jane could not hear what they were saying, but she observed them closely and understood from her sister's countenance that she was well satisfied with the conversation.