Beginning, Section II, Next Section
Posted on Wednesday, 12 December 2007
Jane and Elizabeth returned from Netherfield to a house in chaos. The servants were bustling about with haste, and Mrs. Bennet's wails could be heard throughout the house.
"Papa, why all the commotion?" Jane asked the moment she found her father.
"Welcome back, girls. You have returned just in time. We are expecting a guest."
"A guest?" The girls asked in unison. Other than the Gardiners, the Bennets rarely had overnight guests. Since neither Jane nor Elizabeth had received a letter from their aunt, they were uncertain who it could be.
Mr. Bennet handed Jane the letter from his cousin, a Mr. William Collins.
Mr. Collins was the heir presumptive to the Longbourn estate. Despite the familial and financial connection to the Bennets, the girls had never met him. His name had been spoken a few times over the years, but never in positive light. The cause for this was a long standing rift between the Bennet and Collins lines. Now, according to the letter, the man was to arrive at Longbourn on the morrow under the pretence of restoring family ties.
Jane and Elizabeth exchanged looks as understanding of the uproar settled into their heads. After returning the letter to her father, Jane made her way to their mother's room with Elizabeth a step behind her.
The scene that greeted the two girls in their mother's chambers was not unfamiliar. Mrs. Bennet was sprawled out indecorously on her bed while she alternated between wiping tears from her cheeks and wringing her handkerchief nervously. Mary, Kitty, and Lydia were situated nearby, trying in vain to calm her. Beside the bed sat the overused smelling salts, as well as a glass of wine, water and a sleep aid.
Upon seeing her eldest two daughters, Mrs. Bennet brightened. She had instructed Elizabeth that both she and Jane could be spared if it appeared Mr. Bingley might propose. Seeing the two earlier than she expected, Mrs. Bennet leapt the obvious conclusion that an offer had been made and accepted, saving them all from destitution. Noticing her daughters' usual sedate manner, she knew Elizabeth had once again disobeyed her. She let out a mournful sigh. "You should not have brought your sister back so soon, Lizzy. Not until Mr. Bingley had a chance to make her an offer." Mrs. Bennet greeted coldly. She continued then to flutter her handkerchief wildly. "Now we will have nothing when Mr. Collins decides to turn us out of the house." She threw her arm across her brow and let out a painful wail while muttering something about hedgerows.
Jane stifled the urge to sigh and roll her eyes at her mother's over worn antics. There was no point in commenting or becoming upset though; she knew her mother would never change. It was easiest to simply find a way to placate her. "Mama." Jane entreated. "Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy have both agreed to visit. Had we stayed any longer, we would not be here to help you prepare for Mr. Collins' arrival."
Mrs. Bennet ceased her lamentations long enough to consider Jane's words. "I suppose you are correct Jane dear. You always were the considerate one. Now, you should rest. The others can see to the preparations. You must not be ill when Mr. Bingley visits. Lizzy, go help Mary see that the valuables are stored away."
Seemingly cured from her fit of nerves, Mrs. Bennet sat up and straightened her gown, preparing to go below stairs.
Jane smiled wanly at her sisters for a moment, then retrieved her mother's shawl that was draped over the chair next to the bed. She helped Mrs. Bennet look presentable once again, wrapping the shawl around her and replacing a stray lock of hair to its proper position.
As Mrs. Bennet headed below stairs and began once again to order her sisters about, Jane did as she was originally bid; she retired to her room for a short nap.
As expected, Mr. Collins arrived the following day. He was a rather short man, measuring little more than five feet, with dark stick straight hair that hung in his eyes. He stood with a decided hunch of the shoulders and had a pigeon toed gait. He was dressed in the black garb of a clergyman and carried with him, for all to see, a well worn copy of Fordyce's Sermons.
Upon meeting Mr. Collins, Jane was first struck by the difference in appearance and manner between him and her father. The contrast was so great that it was difficult to imagine any familial relationship between the two. She wondered if perhaps Mr. Collins was an impostor, though immediately dismissed the idea as decidedly uncharitable. If the man said he was Mr. Collins, she would believe him. After all, a man of the cloth would not lie.
Upon his arrival, Mrs. Bennet once again took to her bed, leaving Jane to perform the duties of hostess. Trying to appear as nonplussed by the chaos, Jane showed Mr. Collins the house. She was intrigued by the air of propriety with which he examined the accommodations; it was as if he was taking inventory. Had he taken out a pencil and paper, Jane would not have been any less taken aback.
Finally, the tour of the house was complete and introductions to the rest of the family were performed. Afterwards, Jane turned Mr. Collins over to the care of her father and the seclusion of his study, while she went to check on dinner preparations.
Dinner that evening was a trial, even for Jane's mild manners and nigh infinite patience, as Mr. Collins took it upon himself to lead the conversation. First, he remarked on the fine quality of every dish in detail, as though his blessing would make it taste that much better. When he concluded his commentary on the food, he prattled on about his good fortune on having been appointed the vicar for Lady Catherine de Bourg's Hunsford parish.
"Were her daughter in good health, she would no doubt bear the title of duchess." Mr. Collins commented. He continued on and on in this manner over the lady, her estate, her daughter, and her generosity. So great were his effusions, they rivalled those of Mrs. Bennet's over Netherfield.
Throughout Mr. Collins' monologue on the beatitudes of Lady Catherine, Jane stole glances at the others around the table. As expected, Mrs. Bennet maintained a scowl throughout the meal. Jane mused the only thing going through her mother's mind was how the man at her table would one day throw them out of house and home. From the look upon her sisters' faces though, the issue of the entail was far from their mind. Their countenances ranged from disgust to amusement. Her father's face resembled those of his daughters, a mixture of worn patience and distraction.
As the pudding course was being served, Mr. Collins took a long drink of water, then loudly cleared his throat in order to garner the attention of the table. With a patient smile, Jane gave the man her full attention.
Silence reigned as Mr. Collins took an exaggerated look at Jane, and then proceeded to do the same to each one of her sisters. The appraising air with which he did this was confusing at best, and not a little disconcerting.
After completing what could only be described as his assessment of each of the sisters, Mr. Collins drew himself up in his chair and began speaking again. "As my dear cousins are aware, I am to inherit the Longbourn estate should anything happen to my dear cousin Bennet." He paused for a reaction from his audience, but received only an intensified scowl from Mrs. Bennet. Realizing no one else was going to speak, he continued. "Under the advice of my esteemed patroness, I have decided to take a wife. Since I am to inherit this fine estate, and as a means to heal the breach between our families, I have decided to select a wife from amongst you, my dear cousins."
Not surprisingly, at Mr. Collins' declaration, coughs erupted from around the table, and long drinks were had by almost everyone. Jane attempted a polite smile, as understanding of Mr. Collins' poorly disguised haughtier of a few moments ago sunk in. He was appraising each of them, as if they were pieces of chattel to be selected and purchased. To think one of them would be tied to this man for the rest of their life!
At the conclusion of his announcement, Mr. Collins smiled in self acclaim. The effects of his proud moment waned though, when the only reaction he received from the Bennet sisters was a set of blank stares. He was clearly disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm his news received. ‘What exactly does he expect?' Jane thought. ‘Does he think we should all flock to him and beg to be chosen? Or thank him for his benevolence?'
Finally, Elizabeth spoke, breaking the awkward silence that had descended. "How kind of you, Mr. Collins. Pray, enlighten us. How will you decide which of us is to become your wife?" She glanced first at her father, and then at Jane, with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"My dear cousin," Mr. Collins answered solemnly, oblivious to Elizabeth's wry tone, "I would not make such a monumental decision without having consulted both of your dear parents. We shall discuss it and I shall be able to answer you perhaps as early as tomorrow."
After swallowing a bark of laughter, Elizabeth rejoined, "Whichever one of is chosen will no doubt be extremely grateful for not having to make such a critical decision ourselves."
Mr. Collins returned a befuddled look as silence once again reigned. Jane thought to say something, but even she found it difficult to see virtue in the situation. That she or her sister would have no say in their marriage partner was disheartening at best. That any of them should be tied to this man sent shivers down her spine.
A glance at her mother caused Jane further alarm. For the first time that evening, Mrs. Bennet wore a smile as she examined each of her daughters with a calculating air that was not dissimilar to the one Mr. Collins bore just before his declaration. Mrs. Bennet was at that moment deciding which of her daughters she could marry off.
Oblivious to the discomfort of the others at the table, and no doubt encouraged by the change in Mrs. Bennet's countenance, Mr. Collins used the silence as his cue to once again sing the praises of Lady Catherine. He spoke earnestly as he explained the many ways in which Lady Catherine paid him special attention, and the manner in which she condescended to give him advice on all matters. He extolled the beauties of Rosings Park, the number of windows the main house contained, and the cost of the gilding. Each item was discussed in such detail it was as if he was trying to entice one of the siblings to beg for his hand, and thus negate the necessity for him to choose. The sisters, however, remained unmoved.
Finally, dinner was removed and the family adjourned to the drawing room. Mr. Collins once again took it upon himself to provide the entertainment and began reading Fordyce's Sermons aloud. The only one who showed any interest in his readings was Mary, but even she seemed pained by the monotonous tone and frequent errors with which he read. As for the others, they busied themselves with sewing, embroidery, or in the case of Lydia and Kitty, finishing bonnets and parasols.
The following morning, the heavy silence of dreaded anticipation enveloped the breakfast room. The announcement to be given that morning was no doubt in the forefront of everyone's mind. Even Lydia was more subdued than usual.
Jane could not help but wonder what she would do if Mr. Collins picked her and her parents agreed to the match. With a pained heart, she knew she would have no choice but to give up Mr. Bingley. After all, there was no guarantee Bingley would make her an offer, and marriage to a vicar was a good match for any member of her family, especially one that was to inherit Longbourn. Disheartened by the prospect, Jane sat quietly picking at her food.
As breakfast continued, and Mr. Collins remained absent, Lydia began talking about the latest gossip in Meryton. She was not one to dwell on ideas that made her uneasy and Mr. Collins definitely fit that description. On and on she babbled about the militia that was soon to encamp in Meryton, until talk of a ball had everyone participating in the conversation.
Suddenly, Mrs. Bennet crooned, "Girls! Girls! Mr. Collins has an announcement to make."
Jane turned towards her mother and was surprised to see Mr. Collins by her side. Her stomach lurched at the grin on Mr. Collins' face; he looked like a cat after a bowl of cream. Her parents had apparently come to an agreement with the man. With a deep breath, she steadied herself, determined to meet the decision with poise.
"I own I was first enraptured over the beauty of my dear cousin Jane," Mr. Collins began as soon as the table quieted, "but your mother informed me that you were expecting another offer soon. I congratulate you."
Jane returned a wan smile. She did not know whether to feel relief or mortification. Knowing she would not be tied to Mr. Collins was indeed a blessing. However, the fact that her mother declined the vicar based on her anticipation Mr. Bingley would make her an offer was far too presumptuous. Furthermore, if her mother had voiced her conclusion to Mr. Collins, it could only mean she had also said as much to the neighbours as well. She cringed at the idea that Bingley may have heard her mother's forgone conclusion. If he had, she was not certain how she could face him again.
Mr. Collins continued speaking, disrupting Jane's thoughts of Mr. Bingley. "Being the next in line, I have decided my offer should be to you, my dear cousin Elizabeth."
At Elizabeth's name, Jane's eyes widened in shock. She waited for Mr. Collins to cite the reason Elizabeth too could not be married to him, but none came. She felt her stomach knot once again. Of all her sisters, Elizabeth was the least suited for Mr. Collins. There could not be two people more ill fitted for one another. Surely anyone could see that! What possessed her mother to agree to such a match?
Sadly, she concluded her mother did not consider suitability in her decision, only age and availability mattered. Unfortunately, Elizabeth was both; she was the second eldest and without any current prospects.
She looked to Elizabeth and then to her mother; her allegiance torn between the two. It was in the family's best interest to have a marriage between the Bennets and Collins. It would provide security for her, her mother, and her sisters. It was not, however, in Elizabeth's best interest.
Jane looked again to her sister to gauge her reaction, and was not surprised to find her staring at Mr. Collins with her mouth agape. Jane watched helplessly as Elizabeth looked first to her mother and then to her father in disbelief.
"You cannot be serious, Mr. Collins!" Elizabeth finally exclaimed.
Mr. Collins took a step back, utter confusion written plainly on his face. "But... but.."
Elizabeth interrupted him. "Mr. Collins. I do not love you, and you could not possibly have fallen in love with me in the short number of hours in which you have been our guest."
Mr. Collins opened his mouth to speak again, but Elizabeth was too quick. "No, Mr. Collins. I will not marry you."
"Of course you will, Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked immediately. "You will marry whomever I say you will marry, you ungrateful child!"
"You can not make me marry, and I will never accept him." Elizabeth shot back, angrily. Looking directly at Mr. Collins, Elizabeth declared, "Know this, Mr. Collins. You are the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry."
Jane's eyes went wide at the harsh statement from her sister. While she was thankful her sister had the self-possession to decline the offer, it did not need to be cruel. A vicar was a good prospect for any of them; having little dowries, they could not expect much better.
An incoherent sputter turned Jane and everyone else's attention back to Mrs. Bennet. From the frantic manner in which she was fanning herself with her handkerchief, and her incoherent wailings, it was clear she was suffering an attack of her nerves. Then, as always happened in cases such as this, in the next moment, there was a frantic call for salts.
The scrape of a chair against the wooden floor startled Jane, and she turned just in time to see Elizabeth fleeing the room. She was about to go after her, but a look from Mrs. Bennet told her that would be unwise. Unable to do anything else, Jane sat quietly at the table and hoped it would all blow over soon.
Surprisingly, Mr. Collins began speaking again as he took a seat in an empty chair and began helping himself to muffins, eggs and bacon. His face held a decidedly perplexed and perturbed expression. "Mrs. Bennet, you were quite correct about Cousin Elizabeth. You shall have a most difficult time in marrying her off. I do not envy you that task." he said after a while. After receiving no protest to his statement, he turned to Mr. Bennet. "Cousin Bennet, I have tried to heal the breach that has come between your family and mine. But if the offering is not accepted I shall know how to act." He then shovelled a fork full of eggs into his mouth, effectively ending the conversation.
The shock of Elizabeth's refusal to marry Mr. Collins initiated yet another attack on Mrs. Bennet's nerves and rendered her indisposed. As a result, after breakfast, Jane was required to tend to her mother, starting with assisting the matron to her room.
Jane did her best to calm her mother, but met with limited success. She took only a sip of wine and refused the sleeping draft outright. It seemed as though Mrs. Bennet was bent on letting Elizabeth, and the rest of the house for that matter, know her every thought. From the life of destitution to which they were now all condemned, to the ungrateful, disobedient nature of her second eldest. The house was made aware of all of them. She even went so far as to rue the day Elizabeth was born.
It hurt Jane to see her family in such discord. She wanted to comfort Elizabeth, but knew any act of kindness in front of her mother would only incite more insults. Jane's frustration with the situation increased when her father retreated to his study, in his usual manner, doing nothing to aid Elizabeth or herself. She sighed, seeing her father would not bother even for his favourite.
Thankfully, it was not long before Elizabeth was finally able to leave the house for awalk. Her absence restored some peace to the house as Mrs. Bennet decided not to waste her breath if Elizabeth was not around to hear her opinion. The matron's nerves, however, were still distressed, and she kept to her bed.
Not long after Elizabeth left the house, the Darcys and Mr. Bingley arrived to pay a call. The distraction of the visitors was welcomed until Mrs. Bennet entered the drawing room. While guests were generally not inducement enough to make her mother leave her bed after a fit of nerves, the fact that Mr. Bingley was in the party had apparently roused her.
With not a small sense of dread, Jane surmised her mother's near miraculous recovery was caused by her determination to see Mr. Bingley offer for her. She bore her mother's entrance with all the poise she could, hoping against hope her mother would show at least show a little decorum in her efforts.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, Jane's presumption on the cause of her mother's presence was incorrect. Mrs. Bennet had not joined the company in an effort to further the match between Mr. Bingley and Jane. The arrival of guests, in Mrs. Bennet's mind, provided a fresh set of ears on which to vent her spleen over the injustices done to her by her second eldest and provide pity. To that end, she began to abuse Elizabeth the moment she seated herself in her favourite chair in the drawing room. She was determined that not only the entire house, but the entire town know what an incorrigible daughter she had. "She is the most disobedient, ungrateful daughter," Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "Mark my words. She shall die a spinster, for no one will marry that girl. Not that I would wish her on any man. She has been nothing but a trial since her birth! Always running and playing in ways unsuitable for young ladies. Why just last week I saw her playing with that grungy hound of ours."
To say Jane was appalled at her mother's words would be an understatement. It was one thing for the house to witness familial strife, it was quite another to make it public! So embarrassed was she, that she had almost wished her mother had come below stairs to further her suit with Bingley; that she knew how to suffer.
She smiled apologetically to each of the guests. While they were gracious enough not to say anything, it was impossible to miss the anger and shock on the faces of both Darcy and Georgiana. As such, Jane was neither surprised, nor unhappy when the guests took their leave, even before it was proper to do so.
Mrs. Bennet had once again worked herself into a fit of nerves, so Jane took it upon herself to see the guests out and used the opportunity to apologize to the Darcys and Mr. Bingley.
Her apologies were accepted, though Darcy's dark mien told Jane he was far from mollified. Before she knew what she was doing, she approached Darcy again, just as he was mounting his horse. "Mr. Darcy." Jane said quietly. "I do not wish to impose, but I am worried about Lizzy. She left the house terribly upset." She stood nervously, her eyes downcast. She was not even sure what he could do, but she wanted to ensure Elizabeth was safe. She had left in such a state she could have easily tripped and fallen and hurt herself. With her mother's current temperament, it would be near dinner before anyone would be allowed to look for her.
Much to Jane's relief, Darcy asked, "Have you any idea which direction she headed?"
Jane looked up at him sheepishly. "I am sorry. I do not. You might want to try either Oakham Mount or the stream that runs near town. Those are two of her favourite spots."
Darcy nodded once. "Do not fear, Miss Bennet. I shall find her."
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy." Her voice was strained by feelings of relief and gratitude.
Jane watched as Darcy said something to carriage driver and Bingley and then rode out in the opposite direction. She breathed a sigh of relief. Not for the first time in the past few weeks did she send up a prayer of thanks for the residents of Netherfield.
Despite the turmoil his presence at Longbourn caused, Mr. Collins remained a guest for another four days. Thankfully for its residents though, his presence at the house was rare. He was not missed, and aside from curious speculation and his effect on Mrs. Bennet's continued mournful state, he was not discussed.
Jane and the others went about their business as usual, entertaining guests and tending to household chores. Despite the appearance of normality though, the overall mood of the house was tenuous. They all feared that at any moment Mrs. Bennet's nerves might suffer an attack and send the house into upheaval.
For the most part, they were successful at maintaining a peaceful environment. Unfortunately, it was not to last. The day before his departure, Mr. Collins' absence from Longbourn was explained with the announcement of his engagement to Charlotte Lucas.
The news brought another temporary uproar to the house, as Mrs. Bennet once again became distraught over her plight and the betrayal of the scheming Lucas'.
Thus, the departure of Mr. Collins the following day came none too soon. By a stroke of luck, Mrs. Bennet's latest nervous attack disappeared shortly after he did. So it was, that as soon as the carriage with him disappeared from the drive of Longbourn, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.
Posted on Tuesday, 18 December 2007
The departure of Mr. Collins restored some semblance of peace, or as much as there ever was, to Longbourn. With the reminder of her missed opportunity now gone, thoughts of hedgerows and poverty soon vanished as well, and Mrs. Bennet reverted to her usual self.
It would be incorrect, however, to say Mrs. Bennet came away from her experience with Mr. Collins completely unscathed. When it came to the art of matchmaking, Mrs. Bennet was a quick study, and seeing Mr. Collins engaged to Charlotte Lucas taught her that opportunities must be seized upon immediately, or might be lost forever. So, with even more determination, she put her mind to scheming ways in which Mr. Bingley and Jane could be brought together, preferably alone.
Unfortunately for all those involved, the weather proved to be an uncooperative participant, and brought two days of rain.
When the rain finally ceased, Mrs. Bennet spared no time in inviting the residents of Netherfield to tea. Being of like mind, Bingley promptly returned an affirmative response, and at two-thirty in the afternoon, the Bingleys, Hursts, and Miss Darcy were all on their way to Longbourn.
After greetings were exchanged, Bingley said, "Mr. Darcy sends his regrets, Madam. He had urgent matters of estate to attend."
Jane smiled and thanked him, feeling her cheeks grow warm as Bingley took a seat next to her. When he returned the smile with the boyish grin she adored, her heart fluttered. For a moment, they did nothing but stare at each other.
A snort from the other side of the room reminded Jane of the presence of others, and she tore her eyes away from him. Remembering the other guests, she turned towards Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Despite the sour expressions they wore, Jane was determined to make them think better of her. After all, if things went well, they would be her sisters, and she abhorred the idea of discord in the family.
Despite her efforts though, conversation was strained. Within the first couple minutes, safe topics such as the weather and road conditions had been fully exhausted. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst's expressions had yet to soften their countenances, so Jane tried to turn the conversation to events in London and the latest fashions; topics she thought were more to their interest. Still she was met with one and two-worded replies.
She looked to Elizabeth for help, but much to her dismay, her sister seemed preoccupied and would offer little assistance. She had even left Georgiana to be entertained by Kitty and Lydia.
Frustrated, Jane decided it was best to leave Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst to themselves, and turned her attention back to Mr. Bingley. She felt her pulse quicken as their eyes locked. Not wishing to appear too eager for his attentions, she asked politely, "How has the shooting been, Mr. Bingley?"
"It is quite good!" he said enthusiastically. He then went on describing the new primer rifle he had purchased for just the occasion, and boasted at the number of pheasants he shot. Then, realizing the topic was not a proper one for ladies, he blushed brightly and stumbled around for a new topic.
Jane smiled encouragingly, finding him truly adorable. Despite Elizabeth's warning, Jane could not help hoping a proposal would come soon. She had never felt such an attraction to a man, and she was certain of the sincerity of Bingley's affection towards her. She had seen infatuations that had faded over time, but they had been nothing compared to this. She was certain she had found the man she would always love, and who loved her in return.
That evening, Jane sat at the mirror in her room, brushing out her hair, lost in thought. Despite her mother's best efforts, Jane and Bingley never had a moment alone. Not entirely surprisingly, Jane found herself willing to cooperate fully with her mother -- within the bounds of propriety and decorum though.
She wondered when the next time she would see Mr. Bingley might be, and if that could when he might present an offer to her. For the past week, it seemed that every day her mother voiced her opinion that today would be the day Mr. Bingley would declare himself. Yet sundown came with no offers from him; nor did a request for a private audience. So, despite her best intentions, Jane always found herself disappointed at the end of the day.
She let out a deep breath and quickly ran the brush through her hair again to distract herself from dwelling on what may or may not happen. She glanced in the mirror and saw Elizabeth in the reflection. She was sitting in the middle of the bed they shared, her brow furrowed as she chewed on her thumbnail -- a sign she was in deep thought.
Jane recalled how distracted she had been earlier in the day. Whatever it was, it was still bothering her. "Lizzy, what troubles you?" Jane asked in her comforting older sister voice. "It is not Mama is it?"
Elizabeth looked up sharply and smiled, shaking her head dismissively. "It is nothing. Nothing at all, Jane."
Jane jumped on the bed next to her sister and folded her legs under her. "You have been pensive all day. Will you not tell me what troubles you? You know I shall keep it to myself."
Elizabeth heaved a deep breath. She pursed her lips together for a moment in hesitation. "Very well. I must tell someone. If you must know, he asked me to marry him."
Jane's eyes widened at the word ‘marry,' and excitement rose in her chest. Her dear sister was to be married! "Mr. Darcy, right? Lizzy, did Mr. Darcy ask you to marry him?" Elizabeth nodded, not looking nearly as excited as one should under similar circumstances.
Realizing her sister was conflicted on the matter, Jane scrunched up her brow. "Did you accept him?" She asked slowly.
Elizabeth shook her head. "I told him I needed to think on it."
Uncertain of what to say, Jane bit her lower lip. What is there to think about? Either you love each other, or you do not. Suddenly Jane's eyes widened in understanding. "Do you love him, Lizzy?"
When Elizabeth sighed deeply, Jane knew she did not, but waited for Elizabeth to speak anyway. "No Jane, I do not; nor does he love me."
At this, Jane was taken aback. Not so much from Elizabeth's candid admission, but from Darcy's.
Elizabeth then went on to explain Darcy's predicament and that the proposal had been made based on their friendship. This was then followed by a list of reasons why Elizabeth felt she should accept the proposal, none of which included love.
Jane exhaled forcibly as the news and explanation sunk in. She and Elizabeth had always intended on marrying for love. In the last ten minutes however, Elizabeth had provided very good reasons why she should accept Darcy's proposal. Worse, Jane could find no reason to nay say her sister's logic. She opened her mouth to impart words of elderly sister advice, but nothing came out. She had none to give.
Elizabeth's reasoning was sound. Darcy would always take care of her and he had the means to look after the rest of the family should something happen to their father. And it could be accomplished without being tied to Mr. Collins! Not only that, but Darcy was handsome, respectable, and loyal. Elizabeth never had to fear that she would be mistreated. They were friends, and therefore did not have to fear being incompatible either. There were certainly worse situations; and no one in the family was ever likely to get another such an offer.
Inadvertently, Jane's thoughts wandered to Bingley and once again she wondered if she would ever receive an offer. She could not help think that had Bingley proposed already, she could tell Elizabeth without concern to only marry for love. She drew in a breath, pushed out thoughts of Bingley and focused once again on Elizabeth. "Lizzy, if you do not think you can be happy with Mr. Darcy, do not marry him. I beg this of you. I could not bear to see you married to a man simply out of duty to the family." With a smirk she added, "Though I must say, Mr. Darcy is a far better prospect than Mr. Collins!"
At the mention of Mr. Collins, the two girls broke out in laughter, dispelling the serious air that had encompassed them. After joking around for a few more minutes, the two settled under the counterpane together and blew out the candles.
While Jane had succeeded in making her sister smile again, she knew Elizabeth was no closer to reaching a decision. As much as she wanted to tell Elizabeth to say no, she could not. It both saddened and frustrated her. There was nothing Jane could say to solve Elizabeth's quandary next to forcing Bingley into making an offer of marriage to her.
For the next two days, Jane watched silently as Elizabeth pondered her decision. Each morning the two exchanged a knowing look, and each morning Elizabeth shook her head, telling Jane she had still not come to a decision.
Helplessly, she bore witness to the way the dilemma weighed on her sister. Elizabeth's walks became longer, and when they sat sewing in the drawing room, she noticed Elizabeth would stare off into space, unseeing. While she would have liked to think Elizabeth was in a happy daydream, she knew she was not, and it pained her heart.
It seemed unfair that Elizabeth should have to choose between her duty to her family and her own happiness. First there was Mr. Collins, and now Mr. Darcy. Jane wanted to scream at her father and show him what his failing to curb her mother's expenditure was costing his favorite. She wanted to throw every insult their mother had and continued to direct at Elizabeth back in her face. Though, in moment's of self amusement, she laughed at what her mother would say if she found out Darcy had proposed to Elizabeth, and what the ‘ungrateful daughter' would have missed out on, had she accepted Mr. Collins. However, Jane's good nature would not allow her to do any of those things.
In all her days, Jane had never felt so helpless. The only upside to Elizabeth's preoccupation was it kept her own thoughts from being continuously turned towards another suitor that resided at Netherfield; the one who had not made an offer of marriage. In flights of fancy, she imagined Mr. Bingley appearing at Longbourn, proposing, and saving Elizabeth from having to make a decision.
Unfortunately, that is all it was, a dream. Days passed, visits to and from Netherfield came and went, but still Bingley appeared no closer to making her an offer.
Bingley and Darcy stood in the Netherfield billiard room ostensibly examining the pool table for their next move. In reality, they were both lost in their own thoughts. Charles was trying to figure out a way to speak with Darcy about Jane. He was not sure what his next step should be. Should he declare himself and ask Mr. Bennet's permission to court her, or should he forgo the courtship and make an offer of marriage? With the holidays seemingly just around the bend, Bingley was of the frame of mind to have things settled. How would it look to make an offer of marriage and then scamper to the woods of the north? He had already accepted an invitation from his aunt and uncle over Christmas, so remaining at Netherfield was impossible; yet a separation from Jane without even the privilege of letters was almost too much to bear.
He was about to speak his mind when Darcy opened his mouth. "Bingley, I need to return to London for a few days, maybe as long as a se'nnight. Georgiana will accompany me."
"I hope it is nothing serious, Darcy. You know Georgiana is more than welcome to stay."
Darcy shook his head. "There is no cause for concern. As to Georgiana, I have already spoken to her, and she wishes to travel with me. Fitzwilliam is on leave and she would like to see him."
"How soon will you be departing?"
"The day after next."
Bingley nodded thoughtfully. Darcy's abrupt trip to London helped decide his actions without even having to speak to his friend. "I have some business in London as well. Perhaps I will join you. We could travel together if you do not mind. It would allow me to leave the carriage for Caroline and the Hursts."
"Of course. My carriage has plenty of room."
The travel arrangements were discussed over breakfast the next morning and were met with surprising excitement from Bingley's sisters, despite the fact that they would not be traveling with the rest of them.
On the eve of the third night, Jane sat on the bed watching as Elizabeth plaited her hair in front of the vanity. Her sister was unusually quiet, and a pensive wrinkle graced her brow. She knew better than to ask her sister what was bothering her; it was the same thing that had plagued her mind for the last few days.
As much as Jane hated to admit it, her sister's marriage proposal provided a good distraction from her own musings and disappointments. She found her thoughts the last few days filled with concern for Elizabeth and what Longbourn would be like without her confidant. Pemberley, Elizabeth's potential new home, was in Derbyshire, a three day trip by carriage. How far away that seemed! It was not at all conducive to frequent visits. There would be no more late night talks, only letters. No more weekly walks to Meryton, but merely a visit or two each year.
"I told him yes, Jane." Elizabeth suddenly blurted out, abruptly pulling Jane from her reverie.
"You told who yes?" Jane asked. Realizing what Elizabeth had said, she exclaimed, "You are engaged then!" She jumped off the bed to give her sister a hug, willing herself to be excited.
Elizabeth blushed slightly and nodded. "I am to be the next Mrs. Darcy." she said in an officious tone that caused Jane to laugh.
After returning to the bed and warming her bare feet beneath the counterpane, Jane asked, "Are you sure about this?" She smiled, hoping she did not sound too much the skeptic.
Elizabeth sat up straight. "I am certain. Mr. Darcy and I have agreed to almost a five month engagement. In that time, should either of us fall in love or decide to back out, we have given each other leave to do so."
Jane furrowed her brow. "Only five months? Did you not want something longer?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "No. Due to the reasons for our marriage, we dare not extend the engagement any longer. We shall be married near the beginning of the Season. With Papa's permission, I shall spend much of the early spring in town in preparation."
Jane nodded, but said nothing. She wanted to be happy for Elizabeth, but she knew her sister was settling for less than the ideal situation, all for the sake of others. She was not marrying for love as she had always planned; yet Elizabeth seemed content with her decision. Jane knew without her support, Elizabeth would not be happy. Considering all that her sister was sacrificing, a little forced happiness on her part was not too much ask. Decided, she said in the most cheerful tone she could muster, "If you are satisfied with your decision, Lizzy, then I am happy for you. Mr. Darcy is a good man and will treat you well." She was rewarded with a genuine smile from Elizabeth.
That night Jane tossed and turned. She would have liked to say her mind was busy with thoughts of her sister's future, but they were not. They were pointed in a more selfish direction. With Elizabeth now engaged, she could only wish that she too was in that situation. Instead, she would soon be faced with another engagement announcement, without any sign that Bingley was having similar thoughts. Things appeared promising, but with every day that passed, Jane began to doubt her own perception of her standing with the gentleman.
Elizabeth's words of warning came back to her, and she felt tears prick her eyes. Could his love really be so inconstant? Was he having doubts? If so, about what? Certainly not about her attachment towards him. Surely he saw the way she blushed every time he looked at her, the shy smiles, the looks of adoration, and the accidental touches, not to mention the way she took his arm when they strolled in the garden. What other signs could a man need?
They were comfortable in each other's presence. They talked frequently about anything and everything; so it was not an issue of compatibility either.
In her mind, there was no one more right for her than Bingley; of this she was certain. If only waiting was not so difficult. She had given him all the encouragement she dared. Aside from proposing herself, or performing some other act of impropriety, she could not make herself more obvious.
What was holding Bingley back? She wondered if the announcement of Darcy's engagement would coax Bingley into making one of his own. With a hopeful smile, she snuggled deeper into the bed and fell asleep.
Two days later, the Darcy carriage pulled up in front of Longbourn. Had Elizabeth not warned Jane earlier of Darcy's intention to travel to London to have the marriage contract written up, she would have been unable to hide her shock at the party's removal. As it was, the fact that Mr. Bingley was to accompany the Darcys was surprise enough.
Knowing the purpose of Mr. Darcy's errand though, hope took a new foothold in her heart. Perhaps Mr. Bingley was on a similar errand, wanting to be prepared when he offered for her.
Their stay was brief, and after assuring Mrs. Bennet of their return, the group departed.
So it was that Jane was caught completely off-guard when three days later, a missive from Netherfield arrived for her. Then, remembering Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst still remained at Netherfield, Jane opened the letter with fanciful thoughts of friendship dancing in her head. Perhaps Miss Bingley was inviting her once again to dine. How perfect that would be! The sky was blue without a trace of clouds, so there was little chance the debacle the last invitation caused would repeat itself.
She glanced at the signature first, and was pleased to see it was indeed from Miss Bingley. Full of anticipation, she began to read from the beginning.
To my dear friend,
Forgive me for not taking leave of you in person, but after my latest conversation with my brother, I feel my presence in London is most necessary. Please do not be alarmed, as it is merely a family matter, but one I would not wish Charles to have to act on alone.
I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.
When my brother left us a few days ago, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours alone. Many of my acquaintances, including the Darcys, are already there for the winter; I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one of the crowd---but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the four of whom we shall deprive you.'
Caroline Bingley
Jane read the note once again, utterly confused. She was certain Bingley had intended on returning with the Darcys. He had promised, not only her but her mother as well. She had heard both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley with her own ears. Not only that, but Darcy had promised Elizabeth! They were engaged! According to the letter, however, the Bingleys would not be returning at all this winter. If Mr. Bingley was not returning, what did that mean for the Darcys? Certainly, Mr. Darcy would not occupy Netherfield in Bingley's absence.
She felt tears gathering in her throat, but was not at all certain who they were for, herself or her sister. Was it possible Darcy had changed his mind and was releasing Elizabeth from their engagement? If so, when did he plan on telling her? Surely he would not be so cruel as to tell her in a note.
She read the note again. There was no mistake. Caroline Bingley had closed up Netherfield and the residents had no intention of returning this winter.
She folded the letter back up and slipped it into her pocket as she pondered what to do next. Should she share the note with Elizabeth? What if Caroline was incorrect? What if Darcy did plan on returning, only without the Bingleys? He could easily stay at the inn or rent another house. Would it not be better for Elizabeth to know sooner, rather than later?
Deciding to mull over the idea for a bit before saying anything, she picked up her needlework and began punching the needle through the piece of linen over and over again.
After contemplating the situation for well over an hour, she came to a decision. She would keep the information to herself. Caroline had stated the Bingleys would remain in London for the winter; she had only implied the same about the Darcys -- and from what Elizabeth had told her, it may only be wishful thinking on Caroline's part.
If Darcy intended to break off the engagement, she would leave it to him to do it in an honorable way -- in person and with an explanation. If he did not, she would never forgive him for hurting Elizabeth. For herself, there was only a glimmer of hope, but she clung to it nonetheless. If Darcy returned, perhaps he would bring a message from Bingley that would clarify Caroline's letter. Until the Darcys returned, or she heard the engagement had been broken, she would not give up on Mr. Bingley.
Posted on Monday, 24 December 2007
In London, three days after his departure from Netherfield, Bingley sat alone in his study, reviewing papers from his solicitor. As he examined one in particular, he smiled. It was the marriage contract. Now that he was prepared, he allowed himself to become excited over the prospect of offering to Jane. In a few short days, he would ask for Jane Bennet's hand in marriage and present the paper to her father. He pondered briefly if he should obtain a marriage license as well, but then dismissed it as too presumptuous.
Carefully, he folded the paper and laid it in his ledger that traveled with him. On the way to Hertfordshire, he would ask Darcy to review it. While he trusted his solicitor, he had not provided the man any specific instructions; a standard marriage contract was what he had requested and received. If anything was missing, Darcy would be able to tell him and he would have the contract amended.
He leaned back in his chair, basking in the contentment of his blissful future. He had it all planned out. He would make an offer to Jane the day after his return to Netherfield, and God willing, she would accept him. They would marry before Christmas. Then, he would take Jane north and introduce her to the rest of his relations. They would no doubt be enamored with her, for a more perfect woman did not exist.
"This is my wife, Jane Bingley." Charles practiced quietly to the empty room. He smiled. "May I present, Mrs. Charles Bingley." His smile grew. "Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley of Netherfield, Hertfordshire." He sighed dreamily.
Absently twiddling his thumbs against his stomach, he wondered what Jane was doing at that very moment. He imagined her sitting serenely in the drawing room at Longbourn, tending to needlework. Perhaps she was working on a token for him, a handkerchief with his initials. Yes, a handkerchief, embroidered with small flowers and a large B in the middle. Or better yet...
His daydream was interrupted by the sound of a carriage coming to a stop in front of the house, followed by a familiar shrill voice. Confusion at hearing that voice in London quickly became alarm. He dashed to the door, finding his sister speaking crossly at the footman.
"Caroline!" Bingley cried. "What are you doing here? Is anything wrong?"
Caroline rolled her eyes. Annoyance was written on her every feature. "Aside from your driver here managing to find every bump in the road from Hertfordshire to London, nothing is the matter. I am here because I simply could not abide by those country manners any longer. I have closed up Netherfield and will spend the rest of the winter in London, or perhaps travel to Brighton with Louisa and Hurst." She made her way up the stairs, stopping briefly when she was shoulder to shoulder with her brother. "And if you know what is good for you, you too will remain in London," she added haughtily.
Bingley sent an apologetic look to his coachman, and mentally made a note to pass him a half crown for conveying his sister safely. The temptation to do otherwise was no doubt great. Then, grudgingly, he followed Caroline inside. "Whatever do you mean, Caroline?"
Caroline paused at the bottom of the steps that led to her apartment. She patted Charles on the shoulder and said in her sweetest voice, "We will talk about it later. I am tired and need to rest."
Confused at the rapid mood change, Charles watched his sister ascend the stairs towards her apartments. He would speak to her again later. In the meantime, he had to send a missive off to have Netherfield re-opened, and hopefully the staff was still available.
That evening at dinner, Bingley informed Caroline he had directed Netherfield re-opened.
In response to defying her, Caroline lost no time in letting loose her tongue, making Bingley regret even mentioning it. "Charles, you cannot possibly consider returning there! I have already taken our leave to the neighborhood," Caroline said, not even attempting to veil the disdain.
Bingley settled into his seat, making himself more comfortable, and topped off his glass of wine. He had learned long ago how to suffer one Caroline's tirades. Her high shrieks induced enough pain; there was no reason to be uncomfortably arranged as well. "Yes Caroline, I am," Bingley replied in monotone, "and even if I were not, Darcy shall. So, as you see, the house must be re-opened."
Caroline choked on her surprise. Venomously she bit out, "Why did I not know of this?"
Bingley shrugged indifferently. "You were told we would be returning."
"But certainly we can persuade him otherwise, now that he has returned to civilization."
"I have no intention of doing that. Once Darcy's mind is made up, it can not be changed."
Caroline let out a frustrated shriek and Bingley winced at the pain it inflicted on his ears. "I can not very well return now. I have already accepted invitations." With a frustrated grunt, she added, "I suppose he is returning to see that Miss Eliza chit too!"
Bingley shrugged again - indifference was always the best attitude to use with Caroline. "I would imagine so. They seem to be good friends."
"I hate those Bennets!" Caroline cried, while slamming down her utensils. The curls that framed her face swayed back and forth under the force of her movements.
Bingley heaved a sigh. "Caroline, I suggest you reconcile yourself with them, as they will soon be your sisters."
Caroline's mouth dropped open, and for a blessed moment there was silence. Then, regaining her powers of speech, she hissed, "Charles! You can not possibly..."
Bingley displayed his best toothy grin. "I was going to inform you of my plans when I returned to Netherfield, but since you are here... Yes. I intend to make Miss Bennet an offer."
Caroline slammed both of her hands on the table, causing the dishes to bounce and clank. "You can not marry Miss Bennet! I will not stand for it!"
Bingley was taken aback at his sister's violent reaction. He stared at her wide-eyed. Never before had she reacted with such intensity. After taking a fortifying drink of wine, he rose up in his chair. "I can and will, Caroline," he said as confidently as he dared. "I am my own man; I will marry whomever I choose." He smiled inwardly as he thought about how much he sounded like Darcy at the moment.
Caroline silently fumed for several minutes. Her heavily rising and falling chest was the only sign of her anger. Suddenly, she took a deep breath, and in a more ladylike tone said, "I can not allow you to be taken in by a fortune hunter, Charles. How well do you really know Miss Bennet? Are you sure she even cares for you? You must know that mother of hers has had her cap set on you for one of her daughters since you stepped foot into Hertfordshire. Miss Bennet may be accepting your attention only to please her mother."
Bingley at first was startled by the swift change in Caroline's demeanor. However, not wanting to disrupt the sudden harmony, he simply replied, "Miss Bennet is far too sweet to be a fortune hunter, and I am certain she cares for me."
"Are you really? I can not say I have ever seen anything in her manner that would suggest it."
"I am certain, Caroline." A familiar flush touched his cheeks as he said, "I have see the shy smiles she sends me, and the way she blushes when I am near. Miss Bennet is too kind to be a fortune hunter."
Continuing in her gentle, but serious voice, Caroline rejoined, "You are correct, Charles. Miss Bennet is the sweetest young thing in England; but are you certain it is not an act?" She paused for a moment, letting her brother consider her words. When Bingley's head tilted slightly and his brow creased just a bit, she knew she had hit her mark and continued. "You have seen Miss Bennet's other sisters, and even her mother. They are loud, ill mannered, and completely uncivilized. How can one daughter be sweet and charming while the others are not? It can only be an act."
The crease in Bingley's brow deepened, and he shifted in his chair, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. He had never considered the idea that it was an act. Jane had always appeared sincere. But was it possible? Women of the ton were notorious for acting one way in public and another in their own homes. His own sister was a prime example. Perhaps it was likewise in the country.
He considered the many times he had seen Jane. She had always been nothing but kind and modest, if a little reserved. Was her inhibition hiding her true colors? What Caroline said about the Bennets was true, they were loud, brash, and severely lacking in decorum. That is except Jane and Elizabeth. At the thought of Elizabeth, Bingley brightened. "Miss Elizabeth is kind and charming as well," he countered, feeling slightly more justified in his appraisal of Jane.
Caroline snorted softly. Her voice was dripping with sarcasm when she retorted, "Oh yes. Miss Eliza is a perfect lady. Why, all the women of the ton hike three miles in the mud." She paused for a moment, and with narrowed her eyes, looked directly at her brother. "Mother would have had my hide had I done the same. Even Mr. Darcy agreed he would not want dear Georgiana to follow suit! Do you really think it possible for your Miss Bennet to be such an angel in a house of hoydens?"
"She came to care for her sister! The carriage was probably not available." While Bingley's reply was immediate, his tone was pleading and it was evident his conviction was waning.
Caroline waved off her brother. She was making headway and would not back down. "Even if Jane truly was a sweet person, she can not possibly have any dowry, and positively no connections! How could you make such alliance?"
"I would be marrying Miss Bennet, not her family." He said unaffectedly. His eyes had turned shiny and pitiful. He knew he was losing the argument.
Caroline's attack continued. She folded her arms across her chest. "You may think you are not in need of a handsome dowry, but do not forget, I will be judged by your connections. How am I supposed to make a favorable match when her uncle is but a country attorney!" Doing her best to look forlorn, she stood and paced thoughtfully. "Louisa may have been willing to settle for the likes of Hurst, but I am not." Abruptly she stopped and stood directly in front of her brother. Her eyes were hard and her hands were firmly planted on her hips. "As head of this family, it is your duty to solidify our standing amongst the ton. You and I both know our standing is somewhat precarious with our father having the poor taste to remain in trade. An alliance with the Bennets is sure to cause talk!" With a gentle sigh, she walked around to the backside of Bingley's chair. Placing her hand on her brother's shoulder, she said softly, "I am sorry, Charles. I know it has been hard on you since father died, but I simply can not allow you to be trapped by the likes of Miss Bennet."
Bingley leaned back against the thin cushion of his chair. His sister's hand on his shoulder burned, and he wanted to shrug it off, but knew better. That act would only anger Caroline and prolong the discussion. "But Caroline...," he whined, much as he did when he was younger. He turned and looked up at her. In that instant, he knew he would not win this argument.
"Just think on what I have said, and we will talk in the morning," Caroline said patronizingly. "If you will excuse me, I think I shall retire a little early this evening."
Caroline left her brother alone in the dining room to consider everything she had said. When she heard the latch on the door click, she heaved an audible sigh of relief. She knew she had persuaded her brother to give up Jane Bennet. She could see it in his eyes. It was the same pitiful lost look he always had when he knew he would not get his way. To seal the deal, all she had to do was throw a new pretty young thing at her brother -- a viscount or even a baron's daughter would do nicely for him; but she could worry about that later. Now that she had persuaded her brother against Jane, she had to find a way to get Darcy to remain in London.
Staring up at the canopy of his bed, Bingley reviewed his conversation with Caroline again. Despite Caroline's opinion, he could not reconcile himself with the idea that Jane was a fortune hunter. She was not overdone by expensive furnishings and jewels, like her mother. She was kind, sincere, and modest. No, she had not been terribly forward in displaying her affection, but that did not mean she did not have feelings for him. He had seen the way she blushed around him, and the bashful smiles she directed towards him. There was something akin to affection, even if it was very small. He knew it.
Unfortunately, he could not readily dismiss what Caroline had said either. While her characterization of Jane might have been erroneous, her observations about the Bingley name were not. Their family had only recently been recognized by the ton in general, and some of the older families still looked down upon them.
While their newly acquired status was never overtly flung in his face, there were always little reminders. Dinner plans made for White's, a place Bingley had not been granted entrance, or daughters who would suddenly become disinterested for no apparent reason. Then there was always the looks and whispers, or worse, the downcast looks when it was discovered he only had a house in town. As he thought about it, he realized many of the doors that had welcomed him and his sister had done so only because they accompanied Darcy.
Bingley rubbed his face over his hand tiredly, but still could not find sleep. While his children would reap the benefits of being the progeny of a gentleman, the only way to make the Bingley name respectable in its own right now was marriage to an old and reputable family. A decent dowry would be good as well. While the Bingley pockets were deep, there were by no means as large as the Darcy coffers.
Thoughts of Darcy and marriage turned his mind back to Caroline. Would an ‘advantageous marriage' really help Caroline's marriage prospects? Caroline had set her cap on Darcy almost since her coming out, and everyone knew it. Regardless of who he married, it would do nothing to induce Darcy to marry Caroline.
A sly grin crept across his face. Perhaps he was approaching the situation all wrong. If he could get Caroline well married, he would only have to be concerned for himself. Then he could marry whomever he chose.
In the next moment, his face fell. He turned over, letting out his frustrations on his pillow. To get Caroline married, Darcy would have to marry first, and he was not about to consider what it would take to bring that about. The endeavor could take years, and he could not ask Jane to wait that long for him. He punched the pillow again. He was back to where he started.
Family must come first. Caroline was expected to marry well, and it was his duty to see that it happened -- just as it was Darcy's duty to see Georgiana well married. His path was clear. He would do his duty. He would give up Jane and marry a lady of the ton. Perhaps I can find someone who is to inherit an estate, he mused. Even if it is a small one, at least it would relieve me of having to find one. He sighed heavily. It was a small consolation, but at the moment, he needed all the comfort he could get.
Having made up his mind, the following morning Bingley penned Darcy a message stating he would not be returning to Netherfield, at least not as soon as planned, but granting him permission to use the estate for as long as he needed. He was not all that surprised when he received a return message, inviting him to dinner to discuss estate business. He smirked. ‘Estate business' in Darcy's language meant ‘do not bring Caroline.'
Despite knowing the dinner would be fraught with questions, Bingley accepted the invitation and suggested dinner at Boodles. He craved the company of people other than his sister, and the location gave him an easy excuse to leave Caroline behind.
Upon arriving at the club, Bingley followed Darcy's direction -- after all, it was Darcy who extended the invitation. Not surprisingly, Darcy led him to a corner table where the two could talk with some privacy. After ordering dinner and a bottle of wine, they began with the usual pleasantries -- assuring each other of their respective families' health and well being.
"I thank you for having Netherfield re-opened," Darcy said sedately. "But it would be improper to occupy your home while you or your sister is not present."
Bingley waved off Darcy's strict adherence to propriety. "There is nothing improper about it, Darcy. For as often as my sisters and I have been guests in your home, I am happy to repay the service." With an inquisitive look he added, "Though I must say, I am surprised by your anxiousness to return."
"Georgiana would like to spend more time with Miss Elizabeth," Darcy replied casually. "It seems Anthony will be on leave for a bit and will accompany us. He too would like to be reacquainted with Miss Elizabeth." Bingley shrugged and took a sip of wine. "We will see you again in a se'nnight?"
At this, Bingley studied his glass with unusual intensity, watching the ruby liquid slide down the glass. "My return is uncertain at this time," he said quietly.
Now, the questioning look was directed at Bingley. When it was obvious he was not going to offer anything more, Darcy asked, "Bingley, has something happened that you wish to discuss?"
Bingley shook his head. "No. Nothing of consequence. I just... I am not sure Netherfield is right for me."
Darcy raked his hand through his hair. He knew the signs well. Bingley's ardour for Miss Bennet had apparently cooled, and he was trying to avoid an unpleasant scene by avoiding Hertfordshire altogether. This time though, there was more at stake now than a touched heart. "Have you found another estate, or does this have to do with a certain angel?"
Bingley shook his head. His friend was never one to be subtle when it was not necessary. He stalled by taking a long drink of wine. "I need some time is all."
"Time?"
"To re-evaluate things," Bingley said. Darcy said nothing, but the upturned brows indicated he was awaiting an explanation. "What if she is a fortune hunter?" He set his glass down and said accusingly, "You are the one who always says I fall in love too quickly." Surprised at the intensity of his own voice, Bingley shifted nervously. He said nothing more, using silence as a cue that it was Darcy's turn to say something -- either words of encouragement or something to let him know he was making a grave error.
Darcy said nothing. He watched the ruby liquid slosh around as he swirled the contents of his glass.
Bingley uncrossed and then crossed his legs again in the opposite manner, letting Darcy know they were at a standoff. He cursed the impenetrable Darcy mask that never allowed him to know what Darcy was thinking.
Finally, Darcy asked, "Bingley, do you believe she is a fortune hunter?"
"I do not know," Bingley replied, deflated. This was not the response he wanted. "Jane is sweet and beautiful and everything desirable in a wife..." He shook his head and squared his shoulders. "But even if she is not a fortune hunter, I can not forget my duty to my family. Is that not what you always say?"
Darcy nodded once and eyed his friend curiously. He thought it odd Bingley would use family duty as an impediment; Bingley rarely gave the notion much consideration. Noncommittally he said, "Family duty is an important consideration."
The conversation paused momentarily as their dinner was served. Bingley welcomed the interruption. He was growing agitated with his friend and needed a moment before he dissembled. Darcy was supposed to give him advice, not sit there like a lump of coal asking vague questions. He needed some sort of confirmation that he was doing the right thing. After the servants removed themselves, Bingley said, "You know she has a pitiful dowry?"
Darcy shrugged, chewing the food in his mouth. "Yes. I am aware the Bennet daughters have little in terms of a dowry." At his friend's surprised look, he explained how out of concern for Elizabeth, his father had bequeathed her additional funds to enhance her dowry.
Bingley pushed the food around on his plate, and shook his head. "And she has the largest dowry of all the daughters! Not to mention they have no connections to speak of."
Darcy coughed lightly, pointing out Bingley's error.
"Darcy, aside from your family -- whose acquaintance has only recently been renewed -- they have no connections. None of the daughters have been presented at court or even had a London debut!"
He shook his head and continued playing with his food. Half of the mashed potatoes were now mixed with the greens on his plate, creating a rather distasteful display of colors. He looked up at Darcy sharply. "I can not do that to Caroline or to my father. I am responsible for elevating the family now." He squared his shoulders and let out a determined, but quiet huff. "If I have learned anything from you, Darcy, it is duty to the family must come first."
Darcy raised his brows, but said nothing for several minutes. He ate his dinner in silence, trying not to look at the sickly green and brown mishmash on Bingley's plate. Finally he asked, "Bingley, what does Miss Bennet have to do with Netherfield? If you are decided against her, it does not follow you must give up Netherfield. The estate needs some work, but it is not bad. It could easily be turned around in a year or two. You seemed to be on friendly terms with the locals and it has already cost you a hefty sum."
Bingley nodded thoughtfully; Darcy was right. He did like Netherfield; the house seemed to be just the right size, and he had developed a good rapport with the tenants. But Netherfield would mean being close to Jane, and he did not think he was strong enough to resist her when she was only three miles away. "True, but perhaps an estate that has not fallen into disrepair would be better. Surely there are other estates the size of Netherfield, maybe in Kent or even as far north as Yorkshire. With an estate further north, we could be closer neighbors."
Darcy shrugged. "You will be hard pressed to find someone to take the lease over before the holidays. Why not revisit it in the spring and make a decision then."
Bingley nodded, feeling a little better. He took a bite of the meat that had not become part of the food collage he had created. "You are right, Darcy. I am being hasty in giving up the lease. Until spring, the house is entirely at your disposal." He had not received the confirmation he wanted from Darcy, but he felt better knowing there was still a way to return to Hertfordshire in the future.
Feeling better in spirits, Bingley began eating. Despite the look of the food, it smelled wonderful and he was ravenous.
Five days after Bingley and Darcy departed Hertfordshire, a large carriage bearing the Darcy crest rolled into Meryton and on to Netherfield, much to the delight of the neighborhood. When Caroline had closed up Netherfield, the worst was assumed -- the Bingleys and the Darcys had left the county for good, and without offering to any of their own.
Unlike rumors when Netherfield was first let, the number in the returning party never wavered. There were two gentlemen and two ladies.
When the news the carriage had been spotted reached Longbourn, Jane's heart began to pound violently in her chest and the flames of hope burned brightly. "Lizzy, is it possible Caroline was mistaken? Do you think he returned with the Darcys?" Jane whispered.
Elizabeth returned a hopeful smile and replied, "We shall have to wait and see."
Jane nodded and tried to calm her beating heart. After only a moment of silence, she asked, "If Mr. Bingley has returned with Mr. Darcy, why have we not heard his name? It is not as though the neighborhood does not know him."
Elizabeth squeezed her hand affectionately. "I do not know, Jane. We will have to wait and see. I am certain the party shall call on us tomorrow. Mr. Darcy is to have the marriage contract with him for Papa to sign."
Jane forced a smile, her mind no longer on the occupants of the Darcy carriage. She did not like reminders of Elizabeth's marriage, because she did not like to think about it. While she was determined to put on happy airs for Elizabeth, she could not help feeling Elizabeth was making a grave mistake.
Chapter Five
When the Bennets remarked that they had not met, nor heard of Lady Catherine, Mr. Collins dropped his jaw in astonishment, and for a few precious moments he was silent. Unfortunately, his shock did not render him mute for long. With great gusto, he educated the Bennets in the benevolence and greatness of his patroness. Chapter Six
December 1, 18__
Chapter Seven