Beginning, Section II, Next Section
The drying out of the road might have meant a return for Jane and Elizabeth but, as Jonathan had engagements in London, it sadly meant a farewell between Mary and her young man. Although the parting would only be for a matter of three weeks, until the Bennet women would themselves be in London, Mary could not help but feel his loss, and very uncharacteristically indulged in an edge of melancholy, which brought empathy from both Kitty and Jane and gentle teasing from the rest of the family.
Despite Jonathan's absence and Mary's slight moping, the next few days passed pleasantly at home. Apart from Mr Bingley twice calling by on some neighbourly pretext or other, and the regular visits from Charlotte and Maria, life remained calm as the family resumed its everyday routines. Elizabeth told herself that she'd suffered no disappointment when Mr Bingley visited alone, but perhaps it was to dispel some her own unsettled feelings, and not simply to distract Mary from missing her fiancé, which led her to suggest all the sisters stroll into Meryton for the afternoon.
The four enjoyed their walk to the village and their wandering through some shops, picking up some small bits and pieces whilst chatting to neighbours and acquaintances. It was just as they exited a milliner's that Kitty, lingering to look back at a very pretty bonnet, walked straight into a young man of most gentlemanlike appearance, whom they had never seen before. After she'd steadied herself, Kitty stuttered her apology, feeling embarrassed that he'd had to take hold of her momentarily in order that she not fall, and not quite sure that she should be even speaking with a stranger. She felt easier though, on realising the man was with a young officer of their acquaintance, a Mr Denny. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to introduce his friend, Mr Wickham, who had returned with him the day before from town, and he was happy to say, had accepted a commission in their corps.
His graciousness toward Kitty had already been noted by the sisters, and his appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty -- a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation -- a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principal object. It seems he had been on his way to call in at Longbourn to personally deliver invitations for his ball. This though, was hardly registered by Elizabeth, and the new young man too, quickly lost her interest as she looked up to Mr Darcy, wondering she'd imagined all his former friendliness. Though he had determined not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, they seemed to move to her of their own accord, and he nodded a greeting and appeared about to speak before seeming to suddenly register the stranger standing by her side. Elizabeth, happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat -- a salutation which Mr Darcy just deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? -- It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.
In another minute Mr Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.
The Bennet girls soon said their goodbyes to the young Army officers and, on Jane's insistence that it was only right to pay a call, moved on to their Aunt Philips's house. Given the girls recent stay at Netherfield, the visit was particularly welcome, and their aunt was eagerly asking questions expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, thinking they might have made more of such fortunate circumstances. She chattered on incessantly, interspersing advice on the girls' love lives with local gossip and talk of the most eligible officers, some of whom were to dine with the Philipses the next day. Elizabeth, feeling that an invitation was about to be extended in their direction, unsuccessfully tried to change the subject. The invitation, however, was not to be avoided, and Mrs Philips, perhaps sensing Elizabeth's reluctance, protested that they would have a nice, comfortable, noisy game of lottery tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. Kitty looked eager, and Jane graciously accepted her hospitality.
"Did you have to agree we'd attend?" Elizabeth sighed as soon as they'd left their Aunt's place behind.
"Lizzy!" "Elizabeth!" "Not again," her sisters seemed speak at once.
"You know exactly what Mother would say," Mary continued, throwing a censorious look in Lizzy's direction. "Aunt Phillips is our close relation, and it would be very poor form to think ourselves above her."
"But I don't think ourselves above her. . . well, at least not in the way you mean. This has nothing to do with social standing, I feel the same way about Lady Margaret when we visit town, and I have no similar qualms about the Gardiners. It's just her manner. . ."
Elizabeth said no more, as deep inside she knew this was an argument she could never fully justify. Mrs Philips may be vulgar on occasion, but she was their aunt, and she did care for them. Anyway, she reasoned, the night might be informative. She recalled again the look which had passed between Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham, and wondered if the evening with the Philipses might somehow provide her with a clue to these men's connection.
Darcy's sleeping patterns had continued disturbed as he remained unable to remove Elizabeth from his thoughts, but tonight, rest seemed an impossibility. The minute he laid eyes on her that day in the street, he knew his determination in staying away had come to nought. He's been so distracted by her presence he'd almost failed to recognise who had been standing at her side. The perverseness of it all -- to come across Elizabeth apparently enjoying a pleasant conversation with George Wickham, of all people! He could all too well imagine how much his childhood acquaintance might appreciate the face, figure, and laughing eyes of Elizabeth Bennet, and wondered how he might warn Elizabeth of Wickham's character without appearing to take too close an interest in her concerns. He chided himself as he belatedly thought of Georgiana. He had hoped to bring her to Netherfield for a few weeks following his planned visit to her in London, but now such a move could not even be even remotely contemplated. As much as he disliked London mid season, it seemed that this is where he'd have to stay if he intended to spend any quality time with his sister. Maybe Wickham's appearance could be seen as a positive thing after all. It would mean that he'd have to take leave from Hertfordshire for a time, and that might be just what he needed to clear his mind of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Elizabeth was unquestionably feeling dissatisfied. Once again Mr Darcy had not joined Mr Bingley's visit to Longbourn that day. She did not anticipate a great deal of enjoyment for the evening either, even though the officers of the ----shire were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike set. It seemed to her that her acquaintance with Mr Darcy had somehow taken a little from the pleasure she might formally have felt at the company of these other young men.
That night though, when the officers joined the party, she again remembered her curiosity concerning Mr Wickham, who upon entering drew almost every female eye with his superior countenance, air, and walk. Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, and on the probability of a rainy season, made her feel that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker.
When the card tables were placed Mr Wickham joined a table between Elizabeth and Kitty. Poor Kitty, still embarrassed over tripping into Mr Wickham the previous day, attended to the game rather studiously, which left Mr Wickham -- allowing for the common demands of the game -- at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told, the history of his acquaintance with Mr Darcy. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity however was unexpectedly relieved. Mr Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in an hesitating manner how long Mr Darcy had been staying there.
"About a month," said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, "He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand."
"Yes," replied Wickham; -- "his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself -- for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy."
Elizabeth could not but look surprised.
"You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. -- Are you much acquainted with Mr Darcy?"
"A little," Elizabeth answered and, still smarting a little at his neglect of their friendship over the past few days, added -- "He seems rather to keep to himself, no doubt believing himself above general company."
"I have no right to give my opinion," said Wickham, "as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him is exactly the case."
"I cannot pretend to be sorry that you have found him out." said Wickham, after a short interruption, "The world is generally blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen."
Elizabeth was on the point of protesting that she had been misunderstood, but he spoke once more, leaving her to believe if she remained quiet on the subject she may learn more.
"I wonder whether he is likely to be in this country much longer."
"I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I wonder if your plans in favour of the ----shire will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood."
"Oh! no -- it is not for me to be driven away by Mr Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim to all the world; a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with this Mr Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him any thing and every thing, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father."
Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented farther inquiry.
Mr Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter especially, with gentle but very intelligible gallantry.
"It was the prospect of constant society, and good society," he added, "which was my chief inducement to enter the ----shire. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me farther by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. The society of a beautiful woman such as yourself adds great inducement to staying in Meryton," he added in a conspiratorial tone, suddenly making Elizabeth feel a little uncomfortable. "A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession -- I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now."
"Indeed!" Elizabeth answered, wondering how he could move so quickly from overt flirtation to talk of a calling to the church.
"Yes -- the late Mr Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere."
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Elizabeth; "but how could that be? -- How could his will be disregarded? -- Why did not you seek legal redress?"
"There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr Darcy chose to doubt it -- or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence, in short any thing or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done any thing to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me."
"This is quite shocking! -- If this is true he deserves to be publicly disgraced," Elizabeth answered, whilst wondering if how much there might be to the claims of extravagance and imprudence. There was something all too easy in Mr Wickam's manner.
"Some time or other he will be -- but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him."
'Then why are you telling me?' Elizabeth longed to ask, but instead took the more circular method of questioning his information. "But what, would have been his motive? -- what do you say can have induced him to behave so cruelly?"
"A thorough, determined dislike of me -- a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father's uncommon attachment to me, irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood -- the sort of preference which was often given me."
Elizabeth thought about this some more, and could not accept that Mr Darcy, as proud as he was, had the insecurity or meanness enough to act in such a fashion.
"I had not thought Mr Darcy so bad as this. I did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this. To treat in such a manner, the godson, the friend, the favourite of his father!"
Mr Wickham though, was so sure of his convincing charm, he did not falter in his appeal for sympathy.
"We were born in the same parish, within the same park, the greatest part of our youth was passed together; inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. My father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr Philips, appears to do so much credit to -- but he gave up every thing to be of use to the late Mr Darcy, and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend. Mr Darcy often acknowledged. himself to be under the greatest obligations to my father's active superintendance, and when immediately before my father's death, Mr Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him, as of affection to myself."
"How strange!" replied Elizabeth, unable to keep a tone of scepticism from her voice. "I wonder that the very pride of this Mr Darcy has not made him just to you! -- If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest, -- for dishonesty I must call it."
"It is wonderful," -- replied Wickham, -- "for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; -- and pride has often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But we are none of us consistent; and in his behaviour to me, there were stronger impulses even than pride."
"I have heard much that is good of him," Elizabeth answered, beginning to feel even more defensive of Mr Darcy.
"Yes. His pride has often led him to be liberal and generous, -- to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pride, for he is very proud of what his father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride, which with some brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister; and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers."
"So I have heard," replied Elizabeth, having so often listened whilst he spoke affectionately of Georgiana. She wondered how Mr Wickham's version might differ. "What sort of a girl is Miss Darcy?"
He shook his head. -- "I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother, -- very, very proud. -- As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her education."
His answer did not please her, but after many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not help reverting once more to the first, with an even more overt cynicism, saying,
"I am astonished at Mr Darcy's intimacy with Mr Bingley! How can Mr Bingley, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? -- Do you know Mr Bingley?"
"Not at all." Wickham replied, a little too sure of his own ability to doubt that Elizabeth had accepted his every word.
"He is a sweet tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr Darcy is."
"Probably not; -- but Mr Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich, he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeable, -- allowing something for fortune and figure, and he is well sought after by the ladies, despite his understanding with his cousin Anne, the only daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.The uniting of their estates will make them very wealthy indeed!"
Elizabeth suddenly experienced a tightening of her heart. Of all the things Wickam had said of Darcy that evening, this was the only one to truly find a mark.
It was impossible for Elizabeth to show a perfect indifference as she related what had passed between Mr Wickham and herself to Jane and Sarah the following day.
Sarah initially remained silent whilst Jane listened with astonishment and concern, commenting occasionally; -- she never doubted that Mr Darcy, so good a friend of Mr Bingley, was everything honourable; and yet, it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. Though Elizabeth remained sceptical, the possibility of this young man having endured such disappointment was enough to interest all Jane's tender feelings; and nothing therefore remained to be done, but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mistake, whatever could not be otherwise explained.
"They have both," said she, "been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side."
"Very true, indeed; -- and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say in behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the business? -- Do clear them too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of somebody."
"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr Wickham. He could not speak of his God Father's son in such a manner without at least believing he has some cause. His undertaking to remain discrete, at least for the father's sake, shows himself right thinking. I am certain there must be a misunderstanding, for he appears such an agreeable young man."
"He may appear pleasant Jane," Mrs Bennet finally spoke, "but are you not at all struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger? There is an indelicacy in putting himself forward as he has done, and an inconsistency of his professions with his conduct. One cannot boast of not exposing another, whilst doing that very thing. Despite his protestations to the contrary, he seems to show no scruples in sinking Mr Darcy's character."
Jane, though hating to think ill of anyone, had to accept there was something awry in Mr Wickham's behaviour, but expressed the view that his inappropriate disclosures to Elizabeth might be a mere aberration.
"I hope that might be the case too," Sarah smiled at her stepdaughter, "but nevertheless, let us make discretion the better part of valour, and be careful with the man."
Elizabeth was glad to have her stepmother's opinion, and would have liked to have gone on to solicit her thoughts on the rest of Mr Wickham's disclosure, but somehow could not bring herself to even speak of the intimation that Mr Darcy might be engaged to his cousin. The best she could hope for might be some new time in Mr Darcy's company where she would again be able to examine his behaviour toward herself. Was it purely the interest of a friendly acquaintance, or had there been something more? His absence since her stay at Netherfield suggested that any idea that he might be attracted to her, was of her own imagining. The overheard comment from the Meryton assembly once more came to her; but this time, rather than making her feel indignant, it instead caused an emotion akin to sadness, and she tried to push such feeling aside with remembrances of pleasant conversations and shared laughter.
It seemed that the fates were against Elizabeth though, as over the following days there was such a succession of rain as prevented the possibility of even Mr Bingley visiting Netherfield, let alone his bringing his friend with him. It was only the idea of Tuesday's approaching ball at Netherfield which kept Elizabeth's thoughts more pleasantly occupied, and from dwelling too heavily upon disappointed expectations.
Thankfully the rains eased Tuesday morning, and the repairs Mr Bingley had made to the Netherfield road meant the ball was not in doubt. Mr Bennet and Benjamin simply made themselves scarce for the afternoon as preparations were made for the evening. Sarah smiled as she overheard the conversation between her son and husband as they made to leave for the stables.
"Enjoy being young while you can Ben. The time will come soon enough, when no excuse will be good enough to get you out of the responsibility of attendance at these gatherings."
"I can always feign sickness, can't I father?"
"If it doesn't work to avoid study son, neither will it work for dances. Your mother can tell at a glance whether you are unwell or not."
"I might simply have to injure myself then. I could break a leg at the beginning of the season..."
His musing was interrupted by Mr Bennet's loud spurt of laughter. "Perhaps a little drastic Ben. It would mean the sacrifice months of riding to avoid a few balls but nonetheless, the idea is at least inventive."
Sarah was still smiling as she moved upstairs to see if the girls needed any assistance in choosing gowns or deciding on accessories. Her thoughts were predominantly with Jane who, she could easily determine, had developed a strong attachment to the amiable Mr Bingley. Sarah was able to perceive that her feelings in regard to him were above those Jane had ever held for a man. Mrs Bennet had seen Jane courted many times over the past few years, and though she had always remained pleasant and had sought to see the best in her suitors, some part of her had always remained untouched by these attentions. There had continued to be a sense of distance in Jane, which the discerning eye of Sarah had recognised as representative of an uneasiness or unreadiness on the part of her eldest stepdaughter. The marked preference she had shown to Mr Bingley, from early on in their acquaintance, had both surprised and pleased Mr Bennet, because it seemed that Jane had finally found a man with whom she felt safe and valued; in short, a match -- a man whom she could easily love.
Sarah remembered that feeling well, after many years of being unable to cultivate a desire for, or even singular kinship with, any young unmarried man of her circle, the emotions and freshness of the discovery of her growing feelings for -- of all people -- the reclusive, and slightly eccentric young widower, Mr Bennet, had filled her with an exquisitely confused pleasure. Though the world in general had looked at the match with a sense of surprise that the discriminating Sarah Landsdowne would choose a widower with four daughters and a modest country estate, over the number of eligible and wealthy men who had courted her attention, Sarah knew that her choice had been right. In Thomas Bennet she had met one who it was easy to love; a man with whom she could laugh, talk, cry... one whom she could respect, and from whom she in turn received respect. It gave her joy to think that in Mr Bingley Jane may have found a man who suited her just as well.
Preparations for the evening went smoothly -- Jane looking absolutely stunning in a newly trimmed gown, and Mary looking more cheerful with the anticipation of pleasure at catching up with some of her neighbourhood friends and talking to them of her fiancé and the arrangements for the wedding. Sarah noticed too that Elizabeth dressed with more than usual care, wearing a very favourite gown, and even showing patience enough to allow Martha, her ladies maid, to weave small fragrant flowers into her hair. She wondered at this for a few moments, but shook off her suspicions at the thought that Elizabeth could not have so much changed her thoughts on Mr Darcy.
She might not have been far wrong because, even as Elizabeth had taken extra care in her appearance, even whilst she bathed, dressed and sat to have her hair arranged, she had fought within herself over whether such an effort was worth it for one man, and she began to feel angry at herself for wishing for his approval and attention, particularly as he had not taken the time to even visit following all his attentions during her stay at Netherfield. The only time they had met since then he had not spoken a word above a greeting, and feeling more than peeved, she again went over their past encounters in her head but this time -- viewing them through her current discontent -- she dwelt less on his smile, humour and intelligence; concentrating more on what she perceived as arrogance and a seeming capriciousness.
By the time she arrived at Netherfield, though calm on the surface, inside she felt the disorder of conflict between her desire to be in his company once more, and annoyance in regard to his inconsistent attentions. Scanning the room upon entry, she determined not to rest her eyes on Mr Darcy. If he wanted her company, he would have to pursue it. Even his direct approach and polite inquiries did not completely dispel her ill-humour, and she had to make an effort to answer with tolerable civility prior to excusing herself to speak with Mrs Bennet, but not before accepting his solicitation of her hand for the first two dances.
Truth be told, the small exchange left Darcy as unsatisfied as Elizabeth, because he had not intended to speak to her immediately upon her entering the room, and he'd certainly not planned to dance the first with her, but he had found himself at her side without thought and his poorly suppressed desires immediately reawakened at the sight of her.
Elizabeth's movement to her stepmother's side amply provided her with the distraction she needed to pull her thoughts from the -- admittedly -- disturbingly attractive Mr Darcy. She could not help but become aware of the very odd way indeed, in which Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst were interacting with Mrs Bennet - there was something between snideness and superciliousness in their manners and conversation with her, which stood out in stark contrast to their usual pretentious but polite exchanges. As the Bingley sisters continued on to welcome other guests, Elizabeth and Sarah exchanged an amused look.
"What have you done, Mother," Elizabeth whispered in an incredulous voce, "to invite such treatment?"
"I'm not at all sure," Sarah laughed, too confident in both her person and position to allow such an attack to concern her. "All I can say is that it has not taken long for their true colours to show themselves. Maybe I am to be the scapegoat for any ill feeling or jealousy they might experience over my beautiful daughters receiving a greater share of attention from the gentlemen than they. Mr Darcy certainly lost no time in seeking you out upon your arrival.
"Nothing more than common politeness I'd venture," Elizabeth answered trying not to colour. "Oh! There's Charlotte..."
"Hmmm?" was Sarah's only reply as she looked across to find Mr Darcy's eyes following Elizabeth's progress across the room as she moved to speak to her friend.
When the dancing commenced, Darcy approached to claim her hand and Elizabeth, not being made for ill humour, was in a happier frame of mind after having shared some pleasant conversation with Miss Lucas.
The conversation though, was more restrained than had been the case during her stay at Netherfield, and she began to feel awkward once more. A few inconsequential words were spoken then they remained silent till they had gone down the dance, Elizabeth determined that he should be the one to make the effort to talk. She was beginning to despair of any discussion when he finally asked her if she and her sisters did not very often walk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative. With her thoughts more centred on understanding Mr Darcy, she had 'til that moment forgotten Mr Wickham and his claims.
"When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance." she added.
The effect was immediate. A concerned look overspread his features but he did not immediately answer. The idea of Wickham practicing his charm on Elizabeth filled him with as much jealousy as dismay. At length Darcy spoke, and in a constrained manner said,
"Mr Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends -- whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain."
Elizabeth, having always suspected this to be the case, still felt a relief in Mr Darcy confirming her suspicions, but continuing to feel somewhat peeved at her partner's distance that evening, could not resist the temptation to take the matter further.
"He tells me he has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship," replied Elizabeth, "and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life."
Darcy made no answer, feeling all the more concerned that Elizabeth might be taken in by such a man. She had not the 30 000 pounds of Georgiana, but William knew that when in dire straits, 7 000 pounds could easily appear a fortune worth playing for. He also understood Wickham's taste in women, and could well see how Elizabeth's lively beauty and quick mind would appeal to his former friend. George had always had a taste for the good things in life.
Darcy was considering how to best answer Elizabeth when, at that moment Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the room; but on perceiving Mr Darcy he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy, to compliment him on his dancing and his partner.
"I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear Sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza (glancing at her sister and Bingley), shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to Mr Darcy: -- but let me not interrupt you, Sir. -- You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me."
Elizabeth knew not whether to be most annoyed at Mr Lucas's presumption over expectations regarding Jane and Mr Bingley, or whether to be more angry over his intimations regarding her own reaction to the interruption.
She should not have worried for her own part though, as the latter section of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy; but Sir William's allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Bingley and Jane, who were dancing together.
That Charles's behaviour might have already given rise to an expectation of an engagement took Darcy completely off guard. Now he chided himself that his fixation with Elizabeth was such that it had made him inattentive and neglectful of the interest of his friend. Elizabeth's presence for those few days at Netherfield had so absorbed his notice that he'd hardly considered that Bingley might be committing himself to a situation that was not to his advantage. Then, after learning of Elizabeth's inferior connections, and in trying to distance himself from her and the unnerving effect she had upon him, he had stayed away from Longbourn, effectively leaving Bingley unattended and unadvised where his attentions to Jane were concerned. On top of this, in the back of Darcy's mind he felt the stirring of an unease in his hopes for his sister's future happiness.
"Mr Darcy...?" Elizabeth spoke his name to call him from his distraction.
Recovering himself, he turned to his partner, and immediately his earlier disquiet over Wickham returned, forcing his concerns for Bingley to a secondary place.
"Miss Bennet," he replied, "I hope you will not think it too forward of me to request that you practise a wariness in regard to Mr Wickham. He is not above the manipulation of others, and of the truth, to his own ends."
Having grown increasingly dissatisfied with Mr Darcy's withdrawn behaviour, it rankled that he felt he might have a right to tell her what she must and mustn't do.
"I appreciate your interest Mr Darcy," she answered in a cold tone, "but Mr Wickham and I had a long and interesting exchange the other night, and I feel quite capable of weighing his words and behaviour myself."
The dance again parted them, and though Darcy accepted that he should perhaps say no more to Elizabeth, he resolved that at least some part of his history with Wickham would be told to Mr Bennet. Even such a determination did not completely quiet his mind, but he did his best to pull his thoughts together to speak politely of general things during what remained of the dance together. When the music concluded, they both parted with a mutual dissatisfaction.
Elizabeth moved toward the drinks table, trying to talk herself out of her disappointment at what she perceived as Mr Darcy's return to his former aloofness, when Jane met her with a smile of such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently marked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. -- Elizabeth instantly read her feelings, and at that moment every thing else gave way before the hope of Jane's being in the fairest way for happiness. Enquiries were immediately made and Elizabeth listened with delight to the happy, though modest hopes which Jane entertained of Bingley's regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidence in it. On their being joined by Mr Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew to Miss Lucas.
Darcy fought his persisting inclination to join Elizabeth, and instead moved toward his friend and Miss Bennet, taking the time to examine their interaction, watching Jane carefully for any participation in the sentiment so obvious in Bingley's attentions. That Jane received his attention with pleasure seemed clear, but her smiles were just as open with himself, and with anyone else who joined their circle. A young officer soon approached to claim her hand for the next dance, and Jane seemed to part from Bingley with an equanimity which made Darcy more thoughtful still.
Bingley soon excused himself to claim Elizabeth's hand for the second set, and Elizabeth determined to enjoy the rest of her evening, regardless of Mr Darcy's attentions to her or otherwise.
So distracted was Darcy, he almost forgot that he was engaged to Miss Bingley for the next dances, and it took a reminder from Louisa to jog him into action.
"It was very condescending to dance the first with Miss Eliza Bennet," Miss Bingley commented, "but I fear her company has put you out of humour."
"Not at all," Darcy answered coldly, though the whole his mien said otherwise.
"Oh, Mr Darcy, we know each other so well, you need not hide your thoughts from me. The self importance and insipidity of these people is something I will be unable to abide for much longer. I begin to long for the superior company of London." When Darcy did not reply she continued. "I do so envy your return to London to visit dear Georgiana. Life will be dull with only ourselves for company, Charles mentioned this evening that you might stay with Georgiana longer than initially anticipated."
"Yes, I have indeed been considering possibly of us both remaining in our house in town until after the Christmas season, but as yet nothing is firmly decided."
Caroline remained silent for a time, considering if delight over Darcy being separated from Miss Elizabeth Bennet should take precedence over dismay that he would no longer be staying as their guest. After a few minutes reflection she decided that the best answer would be for all of the party from Netherfield to remove to town for the rest of the season. Smiling at such a proposition, Miss Bingley happily turned the conversation.
"Have you noticed Mrs Bennet this evening, Mr Darcy? I am all astonishment that a woman such as her has the hide to pass herself off as the definitive gentlewoman. Look at her now, 'holding court' with the simple women of this district."
"She has always appeared in my eyes," replied Darcy, "to act with the greatest decorum."
"Certainly," answered Caroline, never wishing to disagree with anything Mr Darcy chose to say. "She does extremely well for a 'toad eater' who managed to catch herself a well placed husband. She is pretty I admit, and we do know there are men undiscerning enough that they will let a pretty face make them forget their responsibilities to both position and family."
Caroline's speech concerned Darcy, more for the points where it reflected some of his own thoughts than anything else. They sounded mean when put so starkly; but was there not credit in such thoughts? Were not such concerns in some ways natural and just? Should he just set aside all consideration of the inferiority of Elizabeth's connections to pursue the hope of relations whose condition in life was so decidedly beneath his own?
Watching Elizabeth as she obviously enjoyed her dances with others, allowed Darcy little more of pleasure for the evening. He spoke for a while with Mr Bennet but felt an unease, something akin to guilt, over the struggles he'd experienced since learning of Mrs Bennet's family history. His embarrassment increased upon Mrs Bennet's joining the conversation, soon followed by Louisa and Caroline. The Bingley sisters' supercilious treatment of Mrs Bennet became even more overt, with references to family, trade, and even Cheapside being casually dropped into the discussion, but Mrs Bennet handled it all with a poise that even the superior sisters could not shake, leaving Darcy to wonder if he should admire her confidence or, given her low connections, despise her presumption. As Mary was persuaded to take a place at the piano-forte, he made his excuses and moved on, unwilling to hear if the Bingley sisters would have a newly critical opinion of her talent now that they considered her position so much beneath their own .
On and off through the evening, Sarah watched Darcy with a perplexity. Where earlier on, Darcy's eyes had barely left Elizabeth, as the night wore on she found him almost as likely to be looking at Jane or herself. She was within hearing when Mr Bingley expressed to him regret that the Bennet carriage (thanks to Mr Bennet's belief that he had comprehensively performed his social duties) had been one of the first to be called. This time, by Darcy's immediately seeking out of Elizabeth, it seemed obvious that she was foremost in his thoughts. Sarah watched as the young man remained at her stepdaughter's side until the carriage arrived at the door.
Elizabeth herself, tried not to be affected by his belated, though solicitous, attention; not to be at all moved by his questions on how she had enjoyed the evening and her partners; not to be impressed by his intelligent and literary allusions; and definitely not to be stirred by the expression in his dark eyes or by his subdued smile, but as he held her hand whilst passing her into the carriage, she found it much easier to determine to be resolute, than to practise it.
Mr Bennet repaired to breakfast the following morning steeling himself against the inevitability of a post ball discussion of music, partners and gowns, and prepared to only find any form of intelligible conversation with his young son. To his astonishment though, he found that Elizabeth too, seemed disinclined to talk over the social aspects of the preceding evening, introducing instead discussion -- of all things -- on Dr. Adam Clarke's contribution to the British Methodist Conference. Not wishing to question his good fortune Mr Bennet simply enjoyed the exchange of opinions, but Sarah watched Elizabeth carefully, trying to discern her step daughter's thoughts to determine if her avoidance of the subject of the ball came from a simple embarrassment over the attentions of Mr Darcy, or she was perturbed on a deeper level.
The idea of calling Elizabeth aside to ask about her feelings had to be postponed, as Kitty proposed walking out together that morning. Mrs Bennet declined, having household matters to attend to, and saw the girls off, determining to seek out Elizabeth upon her return to see if she desired to talk matters over.
"I'm surprised you found no excuse to stay at home Jane," Mary teased as they walked toward the Lucas home. "You are not at all afraid you might miss a visit from Mr Bingley?"
"I can answer for Jane's unconcern," Kitty spoke up. "I believe Mr Bingley will be in London for the next few days and Jane may leave the house without fear of missing him."
Jane blushed and wished for a change of topic, but knowing she had indeed deferred neighbourhood visits and exercise under the apprehension that Mr Bingley might call whilst she was out, she could not argue against their assertions. She was grateful when Elizabeth, instead of joining in her sisters' teasing, redirected the subject. Elizabeth's rescuing of Jane from embarrassment though, was hardly altruistic in nature. She did not mean to be jealous, but Mr Bingley's attentions to her sister merely seemed to highlight the inconsistency of Mr Darcy's attentions to herself.
Elizabeth did not know at that time, however, that in walking out that morning she had indeed missed a visit by Mr Darcy. Of course Mr Darcy's purpose for the visit, at least the one he admitted to himself, was not to see Elizabeth, but rather to take leave of Mr Bennet. He had not gone to bed after the Longbourn family had left Netherfield the preceding night, but had put his great coat over his evening finery and walked the chilly grounds of Netherfield for more than an hour, trying to determine how he should act, finally coming to no conclusion but that he should leave Hertfordshire on the morrow, bringing his planned visit with his sister just slightly forward. All he knew was he needed to be away from Elizabeth to be able to know his own mind; to be free from the constant distraction of an awareness she was not far from him, to be gone from the tension of both hoping and fearing to see her.
This tension demonstrated itself again with the acute disappointment he experienced in finding her not at Longbourn. He was welcomed and shown into Mr Bennet's library, where he made his farewells to Mr Bennet, telling him of his plans to spend more time with his sister than he previously had intended. Though Darcy initially felt an awkwardness in his visit, as though he had to give a credible account of his leaving to this man, Mr Bennet's natural ways and easy discussion soon put him at ease, and the two settled once more into comfortable discussion on such things as familial joys and demands, the social expectation one lives under in London, and the perennial topic of estate responsibilities. Upon examining his watch though, Mr Darcy realised it was well past time for him to take his leave, and he had not yet broached the subject of Mr Wickham. Elizabeth's defensiveness when he had tried to warn her the previous evening, had weighed on his mind far too heavily. Thoughts of Elizabeth enjoying George's easy smiles, sharing his laughter, or taking in his words, had disturbed his sleep and he could not leave without exposing at least some of his character.
"There is one more thing perhaps I should have spoken of previously, but I can not depart the district without placing this information in trust with someone."
"This would not have anything to do with a certain new and charming officer in the Militia, would it Mr Darcy?" a canny Mr Bennet asked.
"It does Sir, " Darcy replied, surprised that suspicion could already lay against Mr Wickham. "May I ask how you would come so quickly to that conclusion?"
"Quite simply, Mr Darcy. You obviously have a long history with the man. I have not yet had the privilege of meeting this young man, who is undoubtedly a very interesting character, but I have heard what my Elizabeth has to say on him, and after spending an evening in his company she returned home somewhat sceptical in regard to his complete honesty."
""Miss Elizabeth was sceptical?" Darcy asked in confusion, unable to reconcile this with that which he'd perceived as a sympathy towards Wickham in her words of the previous evening. Still, he needed more assurance that Elizabeth would not be taken in by the manipulations of that man. "Are you quite sure she was not inclined to give him credit?"
"Without a doubt," Mr Bennet replied, looking carefully at the young man in front of him. Such a reaction suggesting to him for the first time that Mr Darcy might be taking something more than a common interest in his daughter's opinion. "Apparently Mr Wickham was uniformly charming, but somehow the essence of his conversation seemed to belie both his words and manner. She found herself not quite able to bring together some of his claims with his actual behaviour. "
Darcy's relief at this disclosure could be clearly read by Mr Bennet, and he wondered if this was felt primarily for the sake of his own wider reputation, or if it was sourced rather in an interest of his standing in Elizabeth's eyes alone.
"I believe he spoke of the severing of our friendship," Mr Darcy ventured on. "I do not know exactly what was said on the matter, but I hope you will allow me to relate the circumstances of estrangement to you, in order that you might use your judgement on what the town needs to know of the man's character. He oft times inspires a greater trust than he deserves."
There was much discussed over the following half hour, with Mr Darcy making Mr Bennet aware of Wickham's mendacity in financial concerns, and to this was added the general account that neither was Mr Wickham above the misuse of women if it would further his own advantage. After receiving the desired assurances from Mr Bennet in regard to a watchfulness of Mr Wickham, Darcy finally took his leave, assured of Elizabeth's safety from his former acquaintance, but disappointed that he had missed a final meeting with the woman most on his mind.
Elizabeth was quickly to learn of his absence. Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and was opened immediately. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady's fair, flowing hand; and Elizabeth saw her sister's countenance change as she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages. Jane recollected herself soon, and putting the letter away, tried to join with her usual cheerfulness in the general conversation; but Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention even from Wickham; and no sooner had he and his companion taken leave, than a glance from Jane invited her to follow her up stairs. When they had gained their own room, Jane taking out the letter, said,
"This is from Caroline Bingley; what it contains, has surprised me a good deal. The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way to town; and without any intention of coming back again. You shall hear what she says."
She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly, and of their meaning to dine that day in Grosvenor street, where Mr Hurst had a house. The next was in these words.
"I do not pretend to regret any thing I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend; but we will hope at some future period, to enjoy many returns of the delightful intercourse we have known, and in the mean while may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that."
To these high flown expressions, Elizabeth listened with all the insensibility of distrust; and though the suddenness of their removal surprised her, she saw nothing in it really to lament in the removal of the sisters; it was not to be supposed that their absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr Bingley's being there; and as to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that Jane must soon cease to regard it, in the enjoyment of his. But even while she comforted Jane. she could not be similarly reassured over the absence of his friend. Would he return to Netherfield?
"It is unlucky," said she, recalling her sister's interests after a short pause, "that you should not be able to see your friends before they leave the country. But may we not hope that the period of future happiness to which Miss Bingley looks forward, may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that the delightful intercourse you have known as friends, will be renewed with yet greater satisfaction as sisters? -- Mr Bingley will not be detained in London by them."
"Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you --"
"When my brother left us this morning, 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 in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintance are already there for the winter; I wish I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one in 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 three of whom we shall deprive you."
"It is evident by this," added Jane, "that he comes back no more this winter."
"It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean he should," Elizabeth replied, trying to convince herself as much for her own sake as her sister's
"Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. -- He is his own master. But you do not know all. I will read you the passage which particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from you."
" "Mr Darcy is impatient to see his sister, and to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare to entertain of her being hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject, but I will not leave the country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already, he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing, her relations all wish the connection as much as his own, and a sister's partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman's heart. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?" "
"What think you of this sentence, my dear Lizzy?" -- said Jane as she finished it. "Is it not clear enough? -- Does it not expressly declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister; that she is perfectly convinced of her brother's indifference, and that if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him, she means (most kindly!) to put me on my guard? Can there be any other opinion on the subject?"
The whole sentence made her feel ill; could it be possible that Mr Darcy would seek to separate his friend from Jane for his own interests. Could he really be so insensitive to his friend's and her sister's feelings that he would part them for such self-interested purposes. She had to believe he could not.
"Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. -- Will you hear it?"
"Most willingly."
"You shall have it in few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is in love with you, and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to town in the hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he does not care about you."
Jane shook her head.
"Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. -- No one who has ever seen you together, can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley I am sure cannot. She is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the case is this. We are not grand enough for them; our 7 000 pounds seems insignificant next to Miss Darcy's 30 000, and she is the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion that when there has been one intermarriage, she may have less trouble in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity. But, my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that because Miss Bingley tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest degree less sensible of your merit than when he took leave of you on Tuesday, or that it will be in her power to persuade him that instead of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend."
"If we thought alike of Miss Bingley," replied Jane, "your representation of all this, might make me quite easy. But I know the foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiving any one; and all that I can hope in this case is, that she is deceived herself."
"That is right. -- You could not have started a more happy idea, since you will not take comfort in mine. Believe her to be deceived by all means. You have now done your duty by her, and must fret no longer."
"But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry elsewhere?"
"You must decide for yourself," said Elizabeth, "and if, upon mature deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two sisters is more than equivalent to the happiness of being his wife, I advise you by all means to refuse him."
"How can you talk so?" -- said Jane faintly smiling, -- "You must know that though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could not hesitate."
"I did not think you would; -- and that being the case, I cannot consider your situation with much compassion."
Upon Sarah's entering the room letter was again perused, and with her step mother sharing the same interpretation as Elizabeth, Jane felt slightly less anxious.
"This is an odd part of correspondence Jane," commented Sarah, "I wish I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one in the crowd, but of that I despair..." does she not know of our intended visit to London in just over a fortnight?"
"I suppose she does not. I do not believe I mentioned the circumstance to her, nor to any of the family for that matter," Jane replied, blushing a little as she recalled being unable to broach the subject of even a temporary separation from Mr Bingley.
"Well, as sure as I am that they will not contrive to keep Mr Bingley away for two weeks, you can at least have the comfort that if business somehow keeps him in town, you will no doubt come across him in London."
"I do not know if I desire to see him in London if he does not return to Hertfordshire. Would not his absence rather confirm the sincerity of Caroline's correspondence. Meeting in London would then be so awkward. Is it still not possible that I have misread his friendship as affection, and that he is truly indifferent to me in the manner in which I most desire his interest?"
Elizabeth entered into her anxieties in a way in that Jane did not fully appreciate.
"Disinterested is the last word I'd apply to Mr Bingley's behaviour toward you Jane," Sarah replied, "but there is nought we can do but let time show how things stand, proving whether or not there is truth in Miss Bingley's intimations. Either way there is no point in actively dwelling on things over which we have so little influence, instead let us concentrate on matters which we can rule, such as our own response and behaviour in such a circumstance."
"Indeed," responded Elizabeth, rising to the challenge with a smile in her step mother's direction. "If a man is capricious or unable to see your value, and if he is not willing to work to overcome any perceived obstacles in the way of realising his happiness and fulfilment, then he is the one who has lost, not yourself! Women who hold mutual esteem as important do not wish for such men!"
Sarah Bennet understood Jane's feelings well enough to not return to conjectures of Mr Bingley in conversation. Elizabeth too, still uncomfortable with her unsettled feelings regarding Mr Darcy, did not wish to overtly dwell on the subject. Day after day passed away without bringing any other tidings of Mr Bingley than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter.
Even Elizabeth began to fear -- not that Bingley was indifferent -- but that his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane's happiness, and so dishonourable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its frequently recurring, and with it came conjectures as to the role Mr Darcy may have played in the separation. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters seemed not enough to shift Mr Bingley from such obvious ideas of love, and she found herself asking if his friend might not have also added his power to the sisters' persuasion. Could Mr Darcy indeed scheme for a match between Mr Bingley and his sister? Was it possible that the attractions of Miss Darcy and the amusements of London, might be too much for the strength of Mr Bingley's attachment?
As for Jane, her anxiety under this suspense was more painful than Elizabeth's, for she had felt a growing assurance of Mr Bingley's regard; but whatever she now felt she was desirous of concealing, and between herself and Elizabeth, therefore, the subject was never alluded to. The family spoke of the coming trip to London, Mary's approaching wedding, and of many trivialities beside, but Sarah was aware of an underlying uncertainty and discontent settling upon both Jane and Elizabeth.
Only three days before the women of Longbourn set out for London, Miss Bingley's letter arrived, and put an end to doubt as far as Mr Bingley's intentions were concerned. The very first sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for the winter, and concluded with her brother's regret at not having had time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left the country.
When Jane could attend to the rest of the letter, she found little, except the professed affection of the writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy's praise occupied the chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt upon, and Caroline boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict the accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in her former letter. She wrote also with great pleasure of her brother's being an inmate of Mr Darcy's house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of the latter with regard to new furniture.
Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this, heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided between concern for her sister, and resentment against all the others. To Caroline's assertion of her brother's being partial to Miss Darcy she paid no credit. That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than she had ever done; and much as she had always been disposed to like him, she could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness of temper, that want of proper resolution which now made him the slave of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice his own happiness to the caprice of their inclinations. Had his own happiness, however, been the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to sport with it in what ever manner he thought best; but her sister's was involved in it, as, she thought, he must be sensible himself. It was a subject, in short, on which reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing. Whether Bingley's regard had really died away, or were suppressed by his friends' interference; whether he had been aware of Jane's attachment, or whether it had escaped his observation; whichever were the case, though her opinion of him must be materially affected by the difference, her sister's situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded.
For her own part, the message seemed to confirm her fears about Mr Darcy, and she chided herself that she had ever lost her resolve to harden herself to the charms of the man. Her overhearings at the Meryton Ball should have been adequate forewarning against indulging in any romantic notions concerning Mr Darcy; her desires had therefore, been no more than a demonstration of foolishness. His staying away made it abundantly clear that he had no intentions at all. Agreeable as he was - she told herself with an almost fierce determination - she did not mean to be unhappy about him, and she fixed her concerns on Jane.
A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak of her feelings to Elizabeth and Sarah; but at last, following an empathetic hug from Mrs Bennet on an occasion when Jane was feeling particularly tender, she could not help saying,
"Mother, I know you are worried for me, but I will recover. I will not repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgotten, and we shall all be as we were before."
Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but said nothing, and Sarah simply tightened her hug before pulling back to see how Jane really felt.
"You doubt me," cried Jane, slightly colouring; "indeed you have no reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! I have not that pain. A little time therefore. -- I shall certainly try to get the better."
With a stronger voice she soon added, "I have this comfort immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it has done no harm to any one but myself."
"My dear Jane!" exclaimed Elizabeth, "you are too good. Your sweetness and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you deserve."
Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw back the praise on her sister's warm affection.
"I entreat you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking that person to blame, and saying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than it does."
"And men take care that they should."
"If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no idea of there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine."
"I am far from attributing any part of Mr Bingley's conduct to design," said Elizabeth; "but without scheming to do wrong, or to make others unhappy, there may be error, and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness, want of attention to other people's feelings, and want of resolution, will do the business."
"And do you impute it to either of those?"
"Yes; to the last. But if I go on, I shall displease you by saying what I think of persons you esteem. Stop me whilst you can."
"You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him."
"Yes, in conjunction with his friend."
"I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? They can only wish his happiness, and if he is attached to me, no other woman can secure it."
"Jane, you wish to think well of all the world, and are hurt if I speak ill of any body. I only want to think you perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not be afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your privilege of universal good will. You need not. There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters,"
Sarah listened to this exchange with an uneasiness which culminated upon Elizabeth's last pronouncement. Lizzy had seemed almost unaffected over the past few days, leading Sarah to hope that she might have been wrong in her suspicions concerning how Elizabeth might feel toward Mr Darcy. There was that in Elizabeth's tone now though, which hinted too much at bitterness.
"My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They will ruin your happiness," Jane exclaimed.
"I do not want to live my life by naïve notions, Jane. Your belief that his sisters could only wish his happiness is false. They may wish many things besides his happiness; they may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; they may wish him to marry a girl who has all the importance of money, great connections, and pride."
"Beyond a doubt, they do wish him to choose Miss Darcy," replied Jane; "but this may be from better feelings than you are supposing. They have known her much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they love her better. But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely they should have opposed their brother's. What sister would think herself at liberty to do it, unless there were something very objectionable? If they believed him attached to me, they would not try to part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such an affection, you make every body acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having been mistaken -- or, at least, it is slight, it is nothing in comparison of what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his sisters. Let me take it in the best light, in the light in which it may be understood."
Both girls suddenly felt self-conscious as they became aware of Sarah standing back regarding them. There were occasions on which the step mother seemed to understand too much or see too well.
In the end Sarah simply shook her head an gave an almost incredulous short laugh.
"I sometimes find it hard to believe you two are sisters. Might I just say though, that matters may be as neither of you assume, and Lizzy, a bias to scepticism may lead one as far from the truth as a bias in favour of everyone's goodness. Maybe none of us should be too quick to judge, whether in someone's favour, or to the detriment of their character. We go to London tomorrow, and it might prove that matters lie as none of us could have anticipated."
Supper that night began in a subdued fashion. Benjamin, who had been previously crowing about how he and his father would have the run of the house to themselves, was now feeling that the loss of his sisters' company for the next few weeks might not be as liberating as he'd first assumed. They had not even left and he already anticipated missing them. He had forgotten too, that he and Mr Bennet would have to spend an entire week entertaining a strange and distant cousin. He already disliked the notion of Mr Collins' visit, as it meant he would not have the pleasure of his father's undivided attention.
"What is this Mr Collins going to do whilst he visits?" Ben asked, giving voice to his concerns. He's a clergyman isn't he? Does this mean he'll be very serious about everything and correct me all day long."
"Ben!" what an assumption," Mary laughed. "Reverend Sommers hardly fits such a description of a clergyman."
"Yes, but he's the good one," Ben insisted.
"I am certain there is more than just one good clergyman," Mary insisted, smiling at her younger brother's youthful perspective.
"Yes indeed," Mr Bennet joined the discussion, "but from Mr Collins' letters I do anticipate him being just the man that Benjamin's mind conjures. I'm sure we'll be able to cope though, lad. We can send him on healthy strolls around the countryside, occupy him by recommending heavy tomes for his reading pleasure, and introduce him to the neighbours who might then provide their share of hospitality toward the man. I'm hoping we can perform our familial duty toward him with the least inconvenience possible."
"Oh, Thomas!" Sarah exclaimed. "So these are your notions of being a good host! I suspect we should have entertained the man as a whole family."
"Dear, I am more certain than ever that it's best for the girls to be elsewhere. His last missive again mentioned our daughters in such a way, that it causes me to even more look forward to seeing his expression upon leaning that none of our 'reputed beauties' are home."
"None except for Ben." Elizabeth laughed as Ben protested loudly at such an appellation.
"You mean you have not prepared him for our absence," Jane asked, beginning to feel just a little pity for the man to be left in her father's care.
Mr Bennet only smiled in response.
In the morning the house was filled with activity, but eventually the trunks were carried down stairs, and final instructions were given and goodbyes said. The parting would not be a long one as Mr Bennet had been convinced that he and Ben should join the family in just over a fortnight's time, and all would stay on in London until after the New Year when the family would return to Hertfordshire for Mary's wedding.
A lightened mood appeared on the road, and their was much anticipation of happy meetings with family and friends. Sarah's reunion with Lady Sophia would be delayed by a few hours, as the women's first intended stop would be at Gracechurch St, where Kitty and Jane would reside as guests for their first two weeks in London, before exchanging places with Elizabeth and Mary for the remainder of the visit. The Gardiners were great favourites with all the family, and it had become a pattern for the Bennet family to visit both their sets of relations whilst in town.
Sarah could understand Jane's insistence that she stay first with the Gardiners. Her Aunt was a discreet and intelligent woman who would support Jane's spirits in just the right manner. Sophia too, was an intelligent woman, and with greater maturity would no doubt find the same discretion - but right now, still with the passions of youth, when Sophia felt strongly about something it showed, particularly if she perceived anything of injustice in a circumstance. A regular exchange of letters had informed Sophia of the situation as it stood between Jane and Mr Bingley, and Sarah was pleased that, as Jane remained with the Gardiners, she would not be made to immediately face Sophia's well meaning sympathies and views on the parties involved in her disappointment.
Sarah smiled though, as she thought of the bond which existed between Sophia and her step daughters. At thirteen, and very much the baby of her family, Sophia had not taken the news of Sarah's engagement at all well. Though she wished to be happy for her sister's sake, she wept passionately at what she saw as the loss of Sarah, and could not help but be angry at what she perceived as Sarah choosing the Bennet girls over herself. Both Sarah and her mother gave over many hours to reassuring Sophia, but it was Jane's innocent gentleness which finally broke through her reservations.
Despite the young Sophia having predetermined that she would thoroughly dislike the Bennet girls, and though she could be annoyed at eight year old Lizzy's presumption, and be jealous of the attention that the cute antics of Kitty and Mary attracted, the kind and open friendship offered by the pretty eleven year old Jane could not be simply pushed aside, and the two girls managed to form a firm friendship, with the confident Sophia almost stepping into a mentoring role with the younger girl, in the early years giving Jane naïve advice on beauty, fashion and courtship (which Sarah found she needed to largely contradict).
Sophia could also be incredibly protective as far as Jane was concerned. Where Lizzy and Sophia -- both strong personalities, -- had, a number of years since, worked their relationship through to a position of mutual respect, Sophia seemed to still hold a place of unstated headship where Jane was concerned. Sophia, loved to exhibit her beautiful friend and niece, to put her forward in society and promote her happiness. Upon her marriage to Lord Carlisle, she had used her new position of influence amongst the select circles of the ton to introduce the Bennets into the most coveted society of London. Jane's beauty had certainly made her a name, but Sophia's promotion of Jane had not ended well last season due to the uncomfortable rivalry between Lord Henry and Mr Church. Given Jane's current tender state, Sarah could only hope Sophia might give up on any grand plans she may have entertained concerning Jane for this season.
The light outside had grown dim. Sarah's musings were interrupted as the carriage at last pulled up at the Gardiner's house. All cares seemed momentarily forgotten as hugs, news and greetings were exchanged, excited children attended to, luggage sorted, and refreshments taken. Sarah looked at the pleasure on her daughters' faces and felt her mood lighten. This time in London will prove to be just what is needed she assured herself, and the sense of foreboding which had begun to descend toward the end of the trip, dissipated completely in the cheery atmosphere and good company of the Gardiner household. <