by Jann Rowland
In this, Jane was much more circumspect than Miss Bingley might have been in the same situation, Elizabeth thought. “I agree without reservation,” was all Elizabeth said in reply.
The other event which occurred during that first week was the dinner to which Jane invited Uncle and Aunt Gardiner, and Kitty. Though Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bingley were of similar backgrounds and position in society, Mr. Gardiner was a man still involved in the detested realm of trade, unlike Mr. Bingley, who was on the cusp of purchasing his estate and becoming a gentleman. Elizabeth suspected it was because of Mr. Bingley’s friendship with Mr. Darcy, a prominent man, that allowed him access to higher levels of society. Mr. Gardiner did not concern himself with such things, content to manage his business, and love his wife and children. Elizabeth was glad to see them, for Mr. Collins’s stupidity had sundered them much of late.
“How are you enjoying London, Lizzy?” asked Kitty when they sat down together that evening. Aunt Gardiner was also with them, leaving Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bingley speaking together on the far side of the room.
“Thus far we have done little but shop,” replied Elizabeth with some amusement. “Had I known Jane would be a much easier chaperone at a modiste, I might have shopped with her before.”
The ladies all laughed together, for they all knew how difficult Mrs. Bennet could be. “Do you put me in the same category as your mother?” asked Mrs. Gardiner.
“Of course not, Aunt,” replied Elizabeth, fixing her aunt with a grin. “But our excursions together have been infrequent.”
“And how is your mother?”
Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. “After Jane departed, Mama fell into boredom. It was only a few days before I left that she remembered she should be educating me on how to find a husband.”
“Oh, Lord!” exclaimed Kitty. “I remember Mama giving me the same instructions before I came to London.”
“She has not grown any more sensible with time,” replied Elizabeth. “If I should follow her suggestions, I should develop a nervous tick in my eyes, fall out of my dress attempting to impress a man with my assets, and be sent back to Longbourn in disgrace.”
Even Jane could say nothing to dispute Elizabeth’s assertions, for they were nothing less than the truth. Deciding they had continued in that vein long enough, Elizabeth turned to Kitty.
“How are studies, Kitty?”
“Oh, I have enjoyed them very much,” replied her sister. “Master Hough has been excellent in teaching me to paint of late. I have enjoyed it very well.”
If there was one subject on which Kitty could wax eloquent, it was her art, for she was the only sister with the aptitude. Kitty, unassuming, ready to follow rather than lead, benefited by this singular talent, for it allowed her to have her own place in the family; without it, Elizabeth had always thought her sister might tend toward invisibility.
“Jane, if I might impose,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “would it be possible for you to escort Kitty to some of the events of the season? We will continue to host her at Gracechurch Street, but she will have a better experience if she attends with you, for we have little to do with the circles you move in.”
“Not always,” interjected Kitty in a manner which was a little fretful. “I do not mean for you to take responsibility for me. But I should like to attend some of the events you do if you do not mind.”
“We would be pleased to have you, Kitty,” replied Jane. “I do not believe my husband would have any compunction against allowing you to attend with us.”
Kitty beamed and began to speak of her expectations, and they passed the time before dinner in this pleasant manner.
The gentlemen were, at the very moment, agreeing on the same subject. Unlike his sister and her prideful ways, Charles Bingley esteemed his wife’s family—or most of them. Few men could tolerate William Collins with any equanimity, he thought, a fact which was proven every time he had been in his brother-in-law’s company. That Gardiner also saw this was clear, though he supposed his wife’s uncle had little reason to esteem the man, given Collins’s behavior toward him.
“How long are you to host Lizzy?” asked he.
“Until at least the end of the season,” replied Bingley. “Jane has asked her to live with us on a more permanent basis, but Lizzy does not wish to impose upon anyone.”
Gardiner grunted and glanced at his youngest niece. “Yes, I have had occasion to speak with her on that subject more than once. It is especially difficult to understand because neither of us would consider her presence imposing, while Collins most certainly does.”
Bingley shook his head. “The man is incomprehensible.”
“But not unlike my late brother’s portrayal of his father. The elder Mr. Collins was, I think, less sycophantic than the son, but every bit as ridiculous.”
“Do you know the level of their connection?”
“I am not even certain Bennet knew the exact degree,” replied Gardiner. “He is a distant cousin of some kind. My understanding is that not long after Bennet’s ancestor instituted the entail, a younger son married Mr. Collins’s forbearer, taking on his wife’s name. How that branch of the family was then reduced to the circumstances in which Mr. Collins was raised I do not know.”
Bingley nodded. “He is an odd character, to be certain. Either way, I am certain Jane will persuade Elizabeth to live with us, and I expect it will not be long after she returns to Longbourn that she will reach that conclusion.”
“If she wishes it, she could live with us in Gracechurch Street. Though it would be tight, we could manage it.
“Now, there is one other matter of which I would remind you.” When Bingley looked at his uncle by marriage askance, Mr. Gardiner said: “If there is anything concerning Lizzy that you must ask the permission of a guardian, please come to me, for I have that responsibility.”
With a grimace, Bingley answered: “I shall remember it, for I remember Collins’s behavior when I asked for Jane’s hand.”
What a silly spectacle that had been! Though Collins venerated him for his friendship with Darcy, the man had attempted to play the stern protector to Jane, though he had not the legal right to do so. Having heard of the situation—Bingley suspected Elizabeth had been the one to alert him—Gardiner had journeyed to Longbourn to take control. It was one of the many things Collins held against Mr. Gardiner, though he was wrong to have attempted to insert himself where he had no right to go.
“It is one of the many facets of Mr. Collins I do not understand,” said Bingley. “It is clear he does not welcome his wife’s family at Longbourn and would like to be rid of them if he had the chance, but he also attempts to put himself forward as their legal protector. What can the man be thinking?”
“Thought and Mr. Collins are not well acquainted, I suspect,” replied Gardiner, drawing a laugh from Bingley. “Many of his opinions are nonsensical—I stopped trying to understand soon after I met him.
“As far as Lizzy is concerned, I prefer to keep Collins as far distant from her doings as I can now that she no longer lives under his roof. What he does not know he cannot interfere in.”
“I have no reason to write to him,” replied Bingley. “Though he sends me letters frequently, I have little desire to respond and every reason to keep him at a distance.”
“Excellent!” said Mr. Gardiner. “Then let us have no more talk of the odious Mr. Collins.”
Within a week, the first of Elizabeth’s purchases arrived, allowing the Bingley party more freedom to attend events. As newlyweds, Elizabeth noticed the tendency for them to prefer each other’s company, and thus, inclusion in any events began slowly. But begin them they did.
One drawback with this was the return of Miss Bingley, for as the week waned, the time for Mr. Darcy to return to London drew near, proving Elizabeth’s supposition the woman would wish to be nearby. The fanfare with which she returned was unnecessary in Elizabeth’s opinion, resulting from her desire to show how much better than the Bennet sisters sh
e was. It should come as no surprise to anyone who knew Elizabeth to learn the sisters ignored her airs with indifference.
“Shall we visit dear Georgiana today?” asked Miss Bingley the day after her return to Mr. Bingley’s house.
“Miss Darcy is still residing at her uncle’s house,” was Mr. Bingley’s reply. “Darcy does not anticipate her return to his house until another week has passed.”
Miss Bingley’s countenance fell with annoyance, but then she perked up again. “Then perhaps we should visit her there. It has been so long since I have seen Georgiana that I long for her company again!”
“That would be unwise,” replied Bingley, while Elizabeth and Jane shared a look. “As you know, Caroline, you are unacquainted with Lord Matlock.”
“But I am acquainted with Georgiana,” said Caroline in a sulky tone.
“That does not translate to an acquaintance with a countess,” said Bingley, infusing his tone with firmness. “If the situation were reversed—were Miss Darcy’s aunt staying at Darcy’s house, we might dare it, though even then I would err toward caution. But I shall certainly not countenance a visit to Lord Matlock’s house on the pretext of an acquaintance with Miss Darcy.”
Displeased though Miss Bingley was, there was nothing she could say in response. While she was ambitious and eager to move in higher society, she was not stupid; she knew her brother was right, little though she appreciated it.
A few days later, Miss Bingley again raised the subject upon learning that Mr. Darcy was now back in town.
“You have met Mr. Darcy?” demanded she of her brother.
“As I have stated,” replied Mr. Bingley, unconcerned with the annoyance in her tone. “We met at White’s for lunch.” Mr. Bingley paused and laughed. “He is not best pleased to return to society, though I suppose, given his comments concerning his time at his aunt’s estate, it cannot be too onerous.”
“Then you should invite him for dinner,” exclaimed Miss Bingley, a certain manic undertone in her voice. “In fact, invite dear Georgiana too, and his aunt and uncle.”
“Though their presence would grace my home, I will remind you I am only a little acquainted with the Matlocks. I should never presume to invite them to dinner until our acquaintance was of a much lengthier duration.”
The way Miss Bingley scowled at her brother, Elizabeth thought the woman blamed him for not yet claiming that acquaintance. However, she swallowed her pique in favor of the task at hand.
“Then invite Mr. Darcy and his enchanting sister. Perhaps there will be an occasion to make the Matlocks’ acquaintance at a later date.”
“All in good time, Caroline. At present, I do not think Darcy wishes to accept invitations to dinner.”
With that, Miss Bingley must be content, though that did not mean she ceased importuning her brother to bring her into Mr. Darcy’s presence yet again. Mr. Bingley, however, parried all her pleading with an expertise that spoke of long being accustomed to the necessity of it.
Miss Bingley’s return also presaged a return to the season for the Bingley family. At first, their involvement began in a slow, measured manner, a dinner party here, or a music party there, a poetry reading, or a visit to the museum. Though Elizabeth thought part of their caution was because of their desire to avoid overwhelming her, Elizabeth informed them amid laughter that they need not take such great care for her sensibilities.
“I am quite capable of moving in society,” said she one day when the subject arose. “There is no need to coddle me.”
“I hope your words are not mere bravado, Eliza,” was Miss Bingley’s caustic comment. “For my part, I am concerned with the impression you shall make on our friends, for you have not lessened your impertinence to any great degree that I can see.”
“What one calls impertinence another calls liveliness, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth lightly, even as Mr. Bingley glared at his sister. “If anyone should complain about my behavior, you may be assured that I shall modify it. Never have I heard any such comments, so I shall not concern myself with it for the present.”
“Perhaps you have not,” sneered Miss Bingley. “But you have also never moved in company so refined as what you shall experience now.”
“That may be,” replied Elizabeth, annoyance welling up within her. “If I may be so bold, however, I suspect others will prefer my ‘impertinence,’ as you call it, to fawning obsequiousness or attempting to behave as something I am not.”
Miss Bingley did not miss Elizabeth’s reference to her own behavior, but as Elizabeth was not explicit in accusing her, the woman could not reply in kind and not prove her words. Therefore, Miss Bingley sniffed and turned away, content to allow the subject to rest.
Thereafter, Elizabeth learned the Bingleys were to attend a ball, the first in Elizabeth’s experience in London. Mr. Bingley had also arranged to include Kitty in their party, as her uncle had requested.
“What say you, Jane?” asked Elizabeth when they heard of the upcoming amusement. “Are balls in London much different from what we attended in Hertfordshire?”
“As you know,” replied her sister, “I have not attended a ball in London, so I cannot say. This ball is being given by one of Charles’s friends, and not a man of much prominence in town. Therefore, I suspect it will not be a crush like some of the other soirees of which I have heard.”
“If it will be an opportunity to meet new acquaintances, then I am eager to attend.”
Miss Bingley used the occasion as one to pontificate on her knowledge of society and the exact extent of what they were to experience. As she had moved in society for some years, Elizabeth allowed her the knowledge she possessed, even while she suspected the woman was not as all-knowledgeable as she attempted to portray herself.
“The Davidsons are agreeable,” said she. “At one time, I thought Charles possessed affection for Mr. Davidson’s younger sister. But she married, and it all came to naught.”
One might point out that speaking to a woman of her previous hopes for her brother was in poor taste. Jane, however, allowed Miss Bingley’s comment to pass, though Elizabeth did not know how she refrained from abusing the woman for her insensitivity.
“We shall see many excellent people there,” said Miss Bingley, oblivious to her companions’ thoughts on the matter, “but few of true prominence. I hope, however, we shall meet with Mr. Darcy, for he is also Mr. Davidson’s good friend.”
It was clear to Elizabeth that Miss Bingley’s principal purpose for attending the function was her desire to see Mr. Darcy. Whether it was the only reason was not for her to determine, though she suspected as much. Mr. Bingley, true to his character, was eager, while Jane was measured. Kitty was also eager, for her time in London had been characterized by studious pursuits—Elizabeth well remembered her wilder younger years, chasing after Lydia while she made them all ridiculous.
“Those times are now in the past, Lizzy,” said Kitty when Elizabeth made some slight mention of it. “No one could live with Aunt Gardiner for as long as I have and remain unchecked.”
“I am sure you must be correct,” said Elizabeth, laying her hand on Kitty’s arm. “There was no intent to censure, I assure you.”
Kitty grinned. “Lydia was great fun, though she also possessed a mean streak. Now I understand how one must behave and keep one’s respectability.” Pausing, Kitty appeared more than a little wistful. “I wonder how Lydia is getting on.”
“Probably flirting with all the officers and still making a spectacle of herself,” replied Elizabeth with a laugh. “I suspect it will be a good many years still before we are treated to Lydia’s company again.”
Smiling, Kitty did not respond, leaving Elizabeth to regard her sister. Kitty had long been the most uncertain, the shyest of the Bennet sisters, though her time in London with Aunt Gardiner had done wonders for her confidence. So had her emergence from Lydia’s shadow when Lydia married and went away. Though Elizabeth had been but fifteen when her elder sister married, she co
uld remember her behavior well, not to mention Lydia’s frequent cruelty. Though it was never overt, sometimes she had belittled Kitty, whether it was over some man’s affections, or matters even pettier.
As they were ready to depart, Elizabeth pushed such thoughts away to concentrate on the evening. As Jane—and Miss Bingley—had asserted, the Davidsons were a young couple, Mr. Davidson only a year or two older than Mr. Bingley. They were kindly and jovial, welcoming the Bennet sisters with open arms.
The evening was much the same as many others Elizabeth had attended in Hertfordshire, regardless of Miss Bingley’s assertions. The music was finer, perhaps, and there was a greater variety of people in attendance. But it was nothing with which Elizabeth was not familiar: the dances were the same, the gentlemen laughed and flirted, and the ladies played the coquette and danced.
One thing which amused Elizabeth was Miss Bingley’s desperation. “Where is Mr. Darcy?” demanded she of her brother not long after their arrival. “I cannot see him. You did say he was to attend tonight, did you not Charles?”
“Darcy is his own man, Caroline,” replied Mr. Bingley with a laugh. “I am neither his nursemaid nor his schoolmaster. It is possible he decided he did not wish to attend.”
While Miss Bingley did not like her brother’s answer, Elizabeth did not know what she expected him to do. It was a sulky Miss Bingley who went through the motions that evening, for it appeared to Elizabeth’s eyes that the only reason she had attended was to see Mr. Darcy again.
Elizabeth had no thought to spare for Miss Bingley, for she was caught up in enjoying the festivities. Together with Kitty, she set out to dance the evening away, or as Kitty said with a laugh: “Break as many hearts as possible!” Though she did not know if she would break any hearts that evening, Elizabeth intended to enjoy herself, and through the efforts of Mr. Bingley, she became acquainted with many and was rarely obliged to sit out a dance.
