by Jann Rowland
“As I recall, we have other plans that evening,” replied Bingley.
A faint whiff of disappointment hovered about Marshal, but he covered it with a nod. “Then perhaps I shall visit to beg an introduction. Until then.”
With a bow, the man moved off, whistling a jaunty tune as he walked, both men at the table he left behind glaring at him as he retreated. Darcy, who knew Marshal as one of Wickham’s confederates back in university, was certain he should not be allowed within fifty paces of any respectable woman. Bingley, it appeared, was of the same opinion.
“I shall need to tell our housekeeper we are not at home to him,” muttered Bingley.
“That would be for the best,” replied Darcy. “Though I would not injure your sister by supposing she is at risk of falling prey to his seduction, I have little doubt he has philandering in mind.”
Grimacing, Bingley shook his head. “He is not the only one. I have heard comments from more than one quarter about Elizabeth, and little of them that bring me any comfort. It seems her situation as a pretty woman, unknown to society, yet possessing little of connections or wealth, has made her a target of every man with nothing more than dalliance and flirtation on his mind.”
Darcy nodded. “Yes, that is often the case with young wards. A rake sees such a woman as a target because she has not the high connections to protect her and bring vengeance on his head if he attempts to take liberties.”
“Well, they shall not find me an inadequate protector,” said Bingley, a hint of a snarl in his voice. “Never have I called anyone out, but I shall do it if it means protecting her.”
Having never seen this side of his friend before, Darcy looked on with interest. Bingley, noting Darcy’s look, shook his head.
“Beyond my affection for my wife and her affection for her sister, I think very well of Elizabeth, and shall allow no one to hurt her if I can prevent it.”
Nodding, Darcy said: “That is understandable, Bingley. It is simply that I have never seen you this bloodthirsty.”
“I am a fair hand with a blade and an excellent shot,” replied Bingley. “Never would I wish to put myself at risk enough to render my wife a widow, but I cannot allow those of Marshal’s ilk to disgrace her dearest sister.”
“Then prevention should be your focus. Miss Bennet takes care, does she not?”
Bingley nodded. “You are right on that score. Elizabeth knows what she can and cannot do and is among the most indomitable young ladies I know. I might almost feel sorry for a rake who tries to take advantage of her.”
Pausing, Bingley laughed and added: “Caroline tried to take her to task for walking in Hyde Park, as if it is somehow improper to walk out of doors. That she does so in the morning, and with the desire for exercise rather than society’s adulation, appears to offend my sister’s sensibilities. Then, when she could not gain an advantage over Elizabeth with such attacks, Caroline tried to abuse her for not taking precautions.”
“It is prudent for a woman to walk with at least a footman in attendance.”
“As Elizabeth and I discussed the day after she arrived. Elizabeth is not stupid, Darcy. Though she loves her independence, she is well aware of the practicalities.”
This account was amusing—Darcy could well imagine Miss Bingley attempting to get the better of Miss Bennet and being slapped down for it—but it spoke to certain undertones about Bingley’s relationship with his sister. A delicate subject, Darcy was uncertain how to broach it; when he did, he spoke with care, so his friend could cut him off if he ventured into territory he should not.
“With accounts like these, it almost seems that you are censuring your sister.”
Bingley shook his head and fixed Darcy with an implacable stare. “I apologize if it offends your sensibilities, Darcy, but though I love my sister, there are times when I do not like her. You are well aware of her behavior, for you have been the focus of it more often than not.”
“That much is true, my friend.”
“I do not censure my sister,” said Bingley. “But as I have said, sometimes she deserves it. If Elizabeth gives her a well-earned set down, I can enjoy it and still feel affection for Caroline. Most times, if I am honest, Elizabeth is much pleasanter company, for she is unassuming and friendly, whereas Caroline’s every thought is bent to how high she can climb society’s ladder. I am convinced the only reason she has set her sights on you is because she is intelligent enough to realize no one higher will look at her; had she had the slightest opportunity to capture a peer, she would do so with little hesitation.”
Bingley’s assertion was accurate to Darcy’s observations; he could not blame his friend for thinking what he did of his sister. Even given his own new acquaintance with Miss Bennet, Darcy preferred her company to Miss Bingley’s without any need to ponder the relative attributes of the two ladies.
“Elizabeth has settled in well,” Bingley was saying. “She and Jane are as thick as thieves, of course; the best of friends and the closest of sisters. Elizabeth possesses an ease in society which differs greatly from Jane’s, for while she meets every situation with serenity, Elizabeth sparkles. Beyond the likes of Marshal, everyone to whom I have spoken has had nothing but good to say of her.”
“I might never have guessed,” said Darcy wryly. “She has charmed Georgiana, and this after only two brief meetings.”
“Yes, she has that effect on others. Though her portion is small, I think she will bring much more than this to a marriage. The man who wins her will be lucky, indeed.” Bingley grinned. “Almost as fortunate as I am myself.”
Darcy laughed, but thoughts of Bingley’s wedding breakfast intruded, and he could not help but bring up those remembrances. “Of Miss Bennet, there can be no complaint, but the man who marries her will also take on her family.”
“Her sisters are all married,” protested Bingley, “except for Kitty, who is receiving a caller, as I understand. Supporting her family will not be required. And Mrs. Bennet continues to live in her eldest daughter’s home and is, thus, cared for at the moment.”
“I was not speaking of her sisters,” replied Darcy. “Few men, I think, would wish to have Mrs. Bennet for a mother, and Mr. Collins is a greater drawback than she.”
“That is the truth,” muttered Bingley. “Mrs. Bennet can be flighty, but she is not so bad—according to Jane, she was more fretful before her eldest daughter married Collins, for they faced the prospect of losing their home and means of support—a well-founded concern, as it turned out. Collins, you are correct, is another matter altogether; I can endure much of a man’s foibles, as I am certain you know, but even I find Collins difficult to tolerate.”
“And her other relations?” asked Darcy.
Bingley shrugged. “Elizabeth’s second eldest sister I have never met; I understand she is a little wild, but as she is married and lives in India, I do not give her much thought. Mary, the eldest, is fine, though a little severe, and Kitty, the next older to Jane, is pleasant, though quiet. Other than these, I understand there is an aunt they have not seen in several years on their father’s side, an aunt married to the solicitor in Meryton, who I never see, and Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Bennet’s brother, who lives here in London.”
Darcy could not quite mask the grimace of distaste for the last man Bingley mentioned. Though he had heard little of the man, there were two important points he knew which caused him to suspect he would be disagreeable. The first was that he was Mrs. Bennet’s brother, and Darcy could not imagine any man who claimed her as a close relation could be tolerable. The second was that according to Miss Bingley—the woman had informed him with an unwarranted measure of glee when he had stayed at Netherfield for the wedding—Mr. Gardiner was a tradesman. While that did not indict him, it did not speak to a high possibility of his being worth notice.
It was unfortunate that Bingley saw his reaction. “Do not disparage a man you have not met, Darcy. Gardiner is an excellent man, one who could pass for a gentleman if he so chose, and h
is wife is a lovely woman. I, myself, come from a long line of tradesmen if you recall. The only difference between Gardiner and myself is my ancestor built up his business, and those who came after have continued to improve it, so I could become a gentleman. Mr. Gardiner took a small inheritance and laid the grounds for financial success, achieving it to an astonishing degree. His wealth rivals mine, for all he still chooses to live within sight of his warehouses.
Embarrassed about being called out—rightly, in Darcy’s opinion—he sought to change the subject. “What are your plans for the future?”
“That is a matter about which I wished to speak to you,” said Bingley, following this new tack without protest. “Netherfield, I have decided, is both a poor long-term investment and far too near William Collins for comfort. I shall not purchase when the lease ends. If you are amenable, I should like to search nearer to Derbyshire for my future home, for I could use your knowledge and assistance.”
“You know I am eager to assist.”
Bingley beamed, his previous displeasure with Darcy forgotten. “I thank you, my friend. Let us talk more about this anon.”
It was soon after the friends rose to depart, Bingley to return home to his wife while Darcy had an appointment with his banker. As they said their goodbyes outside the building, a thought occurred to Darcy and he addressed his friend.
“As I recall, we spoke of dinner one night. Shall we gather at my house?”
Bingley grinned. “If you would prefer to take the duty of hosting onto yourself, who am I to refuse?”
They agreed on a night later that week and parted. As he walked, Darcy considered their conversation and examined what he knew of the Bennet family and their relations. Collins was, as Bingley put it, insufferable, but Derbyshire was three days distant from Hertfordshire, and the man could be kept at arms’ length. As for Mr. Gardiner, Bingley’s testimony was not one to put aside lightly. Darcy had every confidence in his friend’s discernment, and if this Mr. Gardiner impressed him, Darcy supposed he should not dismiss the man out of hand. Perhaps there was a way to provoke an introduction, so he could judge for himself. It was something Darcy determined to keep in mind.
After a time, Elizabeth became fatigued with Caroline Bingley’s superior attitude. It seemed like every time they were together in a room, Miss Bingley had some unwanted advice to give. If she was not making herself unwelcome with her advice, her patronizing tones set Elizabeth’s teeth to grating, for the woman seemed to believe her social position was that of an empress. How Elizabeth wished she was not required to keep the peace, for calling the woman out and abusing her for her stupidity would be cathartic!
But restrained she must be and thus, many a time Elizabeth bit her tongue to avoid the eruption in which she wished to indulge. A case in point of this was the day after the Darcys’ visit when she learned of her failure to be there to meet them. Elizabeth was not certain if she would growl with frustration or dash off to Mr. Darcy’s home to insert herself into his company.
“Well, Miss Eliza,” said she at length, turning her detested condescension on Elizabeth once again, “it appears you have been favored.”
“By Mr. Darcy deigning to visit the home of his good friend?” asked Elizabeth, in a manner more pointed than diplomatic.
“No, Mr. Darcy and Charles are excellent friends, so there is no surprise he would visit. But if he did not approve of you, in some fashion, he would not allow his sister into your company, for he is discriminating when it comes to those he considers his friends, and even more so for his sister.”
“I will remind you, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth, “that I have already made Miss Darcy’s acquaintance.”
“Meeting on a street where he cannot avoid you differs from visiting,” snapped Miss Bingley.
It seemed the lady was becoming angry that Elizabeth would not believe her exaggerations about Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth decided it did not signify what Miss Bingley thought, and as a result, took a more conciliatory tack.
“Believe me, Miss Bingley,” said she, “I esteem both Mr. and Miss Darcy and feel the compliment of their attention.”
“As you should,” said the woman with a satisfied nod. Though she did not say so, her tone suggested an addition of “and you should not forget it” onto the end. Elizabeth ignored it. Ignoring the woman altogether was preferable.
“Sometimes I cannot understand you, Caroline,” said Mr. Bingley. Her brother-in-law had watched the exchange dispassionately, not interjecting, though Elizabeth had thought he might a time or two. Rounding out their party were the Hursts, who had come to dinner that night.
“In what way?” asked Miss Bingley, though her tone suggested her interest was minimal.
“You attempt to claim yourself an intimate of Darcy’s, yet you know him so little.”
Miss Bingley frowned, her focus now on her brother. “I am sure I have no notion of what you speak, Charles. I know Mr. Darcy very well, for I have been acquainted with him for several years now.”
Snorting, Mr. Bingley shook his head. “Darcy is not a misanthrope as you suggest. The reason he is careful in choosing his friends is twofold: he does not tolerate hangers-on and those attempting to curry favor, and he cannot abide poor behavior. If someone, such as Elizabeth, wishes friendship with sincerity, Darcy does not stint in responding. It is a mark of how superficial our society is that he keeps his friends to a minimum.”
Though Elizabeth was certain Mr. Bingley had not intended to accuse with his explanation, Elizabeth thought Miss Bingley took it in that manner, for she colored with anger. Before she could speak, however, her sister’s husband spoke up.
“Darcy can be a little stiff, but he is a pleasant fellow when you come to know him. I know I am not his favorite person, but my vices are those he can tolerate, for he knows I do not indulge in them to excess.”
As if to punctuate his words, Mr. Hurst drained his glass of wine and poured another from the decanter, which sat close to hand. Mr. Bingley, amused with his brother, shot him a grin, while the man’s wife rolled her eyes. Miss Bingley, it seemed, opted to ignore them rather than state her case. This allowed Mr. Bingley to speak again.
“In fact, Darcy has no compunction about forwarding his acquaintance with Elizabeth, and with us all. Darcy has invited us to dine at his house Tuesday next.”
While Miss Bingley beamed in triumph, Mr. Hurst regarded Mr. Bingley and said: “Can I assume the invitation includes us?”
“Yes, Hurst, Darcy asked me to convey the invitation to you in his stead.”
Hurst grinned and raised his glass. “Excellent. Darcy’s brandy is even finer than yours, and his table is always excellent, though he does not yet have a wife. I shall look forward to it.”
As acquainted with Mrs. Hurst’s husband as she was, Elizabeth could not help but feel diverted by his behavior. There was nothing objectionable in him, though he was fonder of drink than Elizabeth thought wise, and his interests lay in directions that Elizabeth found tedious. But he was an amiable sort, always ready with a jest, and if he tweaked Miss Bingley’s nose, Elizabeth had always considered it humorous, though not precisely proper.
For some time after Mr. Bingley’s announcement, Miss Bingley waxed eloquent on the subject of dining at Mr. Darcy’s house. Elizabeth thought it was intended to stoke her vanity and increase her excitement as much as to inform Elizabeth herself of the great honor Mr. Darcy was doing her. As such, Elizabeth was content to allow the woman to continue in this vein, as it freed her from the obligation to respond.
Of Mrs. Hurst, Elizabeth had never thought much at all. Mrs. Hurst was, Elizabeth thought, similar to her sister in the way they thought and acted in society, but whereas Miss Bingley was brash and confident, Mrs. Hurst tended toward a quieter temperament. Mrs. Hurst always supported her sister in anything she said, though that support was often silent. That evening, Elizabeth learned a little more about the woman than she had known before. It was this that allowed her to think of Mrs. Hurst in
more favorable terms.
It happened as the night became late, and the Hursts were about to depart. As Miss Bingley was to remove to her sister’s house for the night—an interesting decision, considering Miss Bingley’s stated desire to meet Mr. Darcy—she excused herself to seek her maid to make her preparations. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were speaking quietly together, and for a time, the housekeeper called Jane from the room. This left Elizabeth alone with Mrs. Hurst, a woman with whom she had never spoken alone.
For a time, their conversation proceeded in stops and starts, stunted and hesitant. Then it became more interesting.
“I have noted Miss Bingley often stays with you,” observed Elizabeth from a desire to fill the uncomfortable silence between them. “You are very close.”
“As close as many sisters, yes,” replied Mrs. Hurst. “It is like you and Jane, I suspect.”
Elizabeth nodded and said: “Yes, Jane is the dearest person in the world, and I am prodigiously fond of her.”
“Yes,” replied Mrs. Hurst. “In this respect, she is an excellent foil for my brother, who, as you know, is voluble enough for them both. My relationship with Caroline, however, differs from yours with Jane. For one, Jane is of an easy and obliging temperament. No one could ever say Caroline is obliging.”
Smiling, Elizabeth allowed it to be so, curious of this woman she did not know well. “This is often the way it is between siblings, is it not? Often those who get on the best possess distinct characters.”
“True,” said Mrs. Hurst. “If that be the case, then it explains Caroline and me.” Mrs. Hurst paused for a moment, then her lip curled a little. “Or perhaps that is not quite the truth. That Caroline and I get on so well is my doing—much more than hers.”
“How so?” asked Elizabeth, though she thought she knew the answer.
“Because I am adept at swallowing my tongue. It has not missed your notice of how difficult Caroline can be.”
“I have noticed she can be very . . . demanding,” said Elizabeth, choosing a diplomatic response.
