by Jann Rowland
“As I said,” replied Darcy with a shrug, “Bingley may do as he pleases. There is nothing I or anyone else can do to turn him from his course if he decides he wishes to align himself with her.”
“Even his sister?”
It was difficult, but somehow Darcy avoided grimacing at the mention of the woman. The eldest Bingley sibling, Louisa, had married a man by the name of Hurst two years before and had produced an heir of late. Darcy doubted she would return to the district until at least the summer. Bingley’s mother had recently returned from Norfolk where she had been assisting her daughter. The younger sister, however, was a different matter.
Caroline Bingley was a tall, willowy woman, not ill-favored, but more striking than beautiful. As the Bingleys were wealthy, she also possessed a handsome dowry, though the family’s lingering connection to trade—Bingley’s grandfather had purchased Netherfield Park, their estate—was still recent enough to engender an unwelcome stench to many in society. Miss Bingley, however, had decided from an early age that she was the perfect future mistress of Pemberley and was not subtle in the business of being noticed by Pemberley’s heir. There was no intention on Darcy’s part of ever making her an offer, a truth he had shared with his friend, but still she persisted. Even now, when she was dancing with Mr. Smallwood, her eyes often sought Darcy, her gaze hungry and predatory.
“Though I would imagine Miss Bingley is not pleased with her brother,” said Darcy at length, “she has never had as much influence over him as she believes. Her displeasure is all because she thinks her brother’s defection will make it more difficult to achieve her designs.”
“Will it?”
Darcy turned a scowl on Fordham, but though his displeasure would often cow the other man, that day he possessed the temerity to laugh. “I believe I have my answer, my friend. While Miss Bingley possesses a handsome dowry, you do not require it, and I believe the benefit of her fortune is offset by certain . . . disadvantages of the lady’s temper.”
Try as he might, Darcy could not find it within him to disagree. “I cannot say you are incorrect. The lady is a drawback I have endured to maintain Bingley’s friendship.”
“That is understandable. But consider the bright side of Bingley’s actions—if he joins his fate to the Bennets’ you may cut his sister with no consequences.” Fordham paused, full of mirth yet again. “Unless you are considering paying her the highest of compliments.”
“Given what I have just said about her?”
Fordham laugh. “I suppose not. It is likely for the best, for I doubt your father would approve of such a connection, regardless—he married the daughter of an earl, as I recall.”
“Yes, he did,” replied Darcy. “But he married her for affection, not because of her status.”
“I am sure her status did not hurt.”
The sound of feminine laughter reached them and they turned as one, noticing that Lady Margaret Bennet was holding court with some of the other women of the neighborhood. With her were most of the principal gentlemen’s wives, none of whom were her equal in society, though Lady Charlotte Lucas, the daughter of an earl and betrothed to Darcy’s cousin was present that evening. Lady Margaret had never been one to modulate her voice, and as such, her words floated through the air, easy to understand even with the musician’s efforts filling the room.
“My Jane is the most beautiful girl in the room, is she not? I am not surprised she has captured the attention of a man as handsome and amiable as Mr. Bingley. Lord Arundel and I would have preferred our daughter to favor a gentleman of our stature, but it seems he has captured her heart.”
With a scowl, Darcy turned away, an action noted by his companion. “It is difficult to blame them for espousing such wishes, Darcy. There are many their like in society.”
“Well do I know it,” replied Darcy, hoping his shortness of tone would induce Fordham to leave. When he did not, Darcy added: “You did not hear her at the last assembly, crowing to all her cronies of how her daughter would catch Lord Winchester.”
Fordham laughed and exclaimed: “I do not know what you saw, Darcy, but in my view, Miss Bennet had already captured Lord Winchester, and I do not blame the woman for an instant for throwing him back. Though he is a viscount and a future earl, Winchester is a dullard. I dare say if his valet did not lay his boots out the night before, he would not know which foot goes into which when he rose in the morning.”
Though improper, the remark set Darcy to laughing, for it was nothing less than the truth. “Did she refuse him? Given how her mother was speaking, it seemed inevitable there would be an announcement before long.”
“I do not know if Winchester ever offered for her,” replied Fordham. “All I can say is the lady did not appear happy with the man’s attentions. You must own the family at least allows the daughters to marry where they will—otherwise, Lord Arundel would not have accepted Bingley, nor would he have allowed her to refuse that mewling milksop Winchester.”
Though Darcy nodded, he declined to respond. This lack of response indicated to Fordham he was not in the mood for conversation, for the man excused himself soon thereafter. Darcy wished to be left alone, but it was not to be.
“For your information, since you seem to have some interest, Jane did not favor Lord Winchester, nor would my father force her to marry against her inclinations.”
Turning, Darcy noted the presence of the second Bennet daughter. She was standing close behind him, looking at him with suppressed mirth, tinged with asperity. The most diminutive of the Bennet daughters, Miss Elizabeth was also the darkest in coloring, her fine mahogany hair pinned behind her head, Darcy suspected, would reach the middle of her back if unbound. She was neither so beautiful as her elder sister nor ill-favored, but to Darcy’s judgmental eye, there were several imperfections about her face and form, and a satirical look about her, the sight of which provoked him to a painful clenching of his teeth. Her one feature which could be called beautiful—her eyes—were fixed upon him, fire burning in their depths.
“I assure you, Miss Elizabeth, that I do not concern myself with the doings of your family.”
“That is interesting, considering your recent conversation with Mr. Fordham. And to you, I am The Honorable Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy ignored her baiting in favor of focusing on her comments concerning his previous conversation. “If you recall, it was Fordham who spoke on the matter—not I.”
The woman before him cocked her head to the side. “It takes two to converse, Mr. Darcy.”
“It does, indeed.”
“Then I suppose you must repine Mr. Bingley’s ability to direct his own affairs. Your distance this evening speaks volumes as to your opinion of his interest in my eldest sister, though I wonder that anyone could have any objections, for Jane is an angel.”
“Bingley may do what he wishes,” said Darcy curtly. “As I told Fordham, I neither direct him nor am I his nursemaid.”
“Perhaps not, but I am certain you wish you were.” The woman gave him a thin smile. “For you cannot approve of a man having an interest in a Bennet, though we are his superiors in society.
“I must own, however,” continued she, not allowing Darcy to insert a comment, “I wonder what you do wish for him. Though I know you would never settle for less than a princess—you would consider her your due—your friend does not have more than two gentlemen in his family history.”
“Then I wonder why you Bennets would wish him to join your family,” replied Darcy. “Is your father not a peer?”
“He is, and he is so conscious of his position that he rarely mentions it,” replied Miss Elizabeth. “Of much more importance is my sister’s feelings—my father would never do anything to interfere with that.”
“Then I applaud him,” replied Darcy. “If you think my father is any different, you are mistaken.”
The impish grin with which she fixed him somehow irritated Darcy. “Mr. Bingley is a good man to follow his heart, Mr. Darcy. I
hope you can find it within you to congratulate him.”
“Whatever he chooses,” replied Darcy. “I only hope he does not know disappointment because of his choice. It is unlikely he will remain unaware of your family’s true colors.”
“I should hope he already sees our true colors,” replied Miss Elizabeth.
Then she fixed him with a smirk and turned away. But before she had gone more than a few steps, she turned back and glared at him. “As for my mother, know that she also wishes for her daughter’s happiness. She may speak without thinking occasionally, such as on the subject you mentioned. But she would never act in any way other than to ensure her daughters’ happiness.”
Having said those final words, Miss Elizabeth departed, leaving Darcy to watch her retreating form. It was, he decided, a more cordial interaction between members of the two families than he could remember for some time, a particular incident which occurred the previous summer being the most obvious example of the discord between them. That event did not bear consideration, and he pushed it from his mind. Instead, he returned to his contemplation of Bingley and Miss Bennet, wondering if his observation would reveal something he could take to his friend. The Bennets were grasping and artful, and he would not have Bingley caught up in their web.
Chapter II
As feuds went, the disagreement between the Bennet and Darcy families was mild. There were no open conflicts among them, their servants were not at war, and while there had been an incident the previous summer, an excess of drink had been the culprit, drunken insults leading to other foolishness. The matter had been resolved with little difficulty, though hard feelings had persisted for some weeks after.
Having said that, there was little congress between the two camps and those who supported them. While the Darcys had no close family in the area—the closest family to them was that of Mr. Darcy’s late wife, Lady Anne Darcy, who lived some thirty miles distant—the Bennets had several other relations in the neighborhood, though those were also, similar to the Darcy family, relations of Lady Margaret rather than the baron. Of their close supporters, it could be said there was a little more fraternization, but that was often a matter of necessity, where business and estate concerns intersected, rather than friendship or a desire to socialize.
Mr. Charles Bingley was, therefore, an anomaly. The Bingley family had moved to the neighborhood during the time of the present Mr. Bingley’s grandfather, who had purchased the estate with funds obtained through generations engaged in a family business. At the time the family had been, as was the practice of those established as gentry, considered new money, and as such, while most were friendly, the Bingleys’ status, regardless of their wealth, was decidedly low. That had changed over the years as others forgot their origins or discounted them as the family became more gentrified. With their newness to the neighborhood, neither side of the dispute at the time took much notice of them.
That all changed when the heir of Pemberley met the heir of Netherfield at university. Darcy, being two years older than Bingley, had been starting his third year when the man’s father spoke to his own father, requesting guidance for his son, who was about to start his first year. The two young men, though not unknown to each other, grew to become excellent friends within days. This remained unchanged through the elder Bingley’s death, the subsequent inheritance of the son, and the ensuing years.
To an observant viewer, however, cracks had begun to form in their friendship, not sufficient to make either wish to forswear their mutual connection, but those suggesting a change in the dynamic between the two men. Fitzwilliam Darcy was a confident individual, one of a high position in society and intelligence which served him well in anything he chose to do. While Bingley was not deficient, he was of a more retiring nature, one which delighted in friendship, laughter, and kindness to all. Darcy was a leader and Bingley his eager follower. Over time, however, Bingley gained confidence in himself as a master and landowner, and it was inevitable the relationship between them would alter. These changes in their friendship culminated in Bingley’s admiration of Miss Jane Bennet.
In fact, Darcy had not been blind to Bingley’s growth over the years. As a young man entering university for the first time, Bingley had been eager to please, though not always certain how to go about doing it. His first years in university had been characterized by a tendency to become enamored with a pretty face—this had happened more times than Darcy could count, and it did not seem to matter the level of society the young woman inhabited. This had stopped, however, some time around Bingley’s last year of education, which coincided with his father’s passing.
Though Darcy had not seen Bingley’s interest and growing feelings for Longbourn’s eldest daughter, there were others who had. Among those who had noticed it first was Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Bennet’s next younger sister, and her closest confidant.
While the day after an assembly was reserved as a time for the young ladies of the neighborhood to gather and discuss the night’s events, of late Mr. Bingley had been a fixture at the estate, and that morning was no exception. Elizabeth, who had liked the young man since she had been introduced to him, had seen his interested glances and, later, his longing looks at her elder sister. It was nothing more than the natural progression of his interest that he should show it more openly.
“Was Jane not admired last night, Mr. Bingley?” asked Lady Margaret as they visited that morning. “I have rarely seen her looking better than she did; I am sure you will agree.” Lady Margaret had ever been one to praise her daughters, her love for them showing in her pride in their beauty and accomplishments.
“How could I not?” asked Mr. Bingley, showing Jane an eager grin. “Then again, I think your daughter looks lovely in burlap and ashes, so I noticed no great improvement over the last time I saw her.”
Jane, as was her wont, reacted with a pretty blush at the praise, but then again, Jane never expected it. The sight of Mr. Bingley, his heart in his eyes, pleased Elizabeth, for she knew Mr. Bingley would make her sister happy. There were many men of Lord Arundel’s position in the world who would have thrown Mr. Bingley out on his ear for having the temerity to express interest in his daughter, but Lord Arundel loved his daughters and did not much appreciate society. His attendance in parliament was sporadic, and his forays into London society only made under duress applied by his wife.
“It is interesting to hear you say it, Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, laughing at the gentleman’s words. “For, unless I am very much mistaken, I do not believe you have ever seen my sister in burlap and ashes.”
“Perhaps not,” said Mr. Bingley, his grin not dimming a jot. “But I am certain she would be no less than lovely in them.”
It was a surprise to no one that Jane’s cheeks took on the appearance of a ripe tomato, though she threw a glare at Elizabeth. Having too much enjoyment to pay attention to her entreaties to cease teasing, however, Elizabeth continued to speak with her sister’s suitor.
“Then the next time there is an assembly, I shall induce Jane to test the theory.”
“And I shall be happy to dance with her.”
“Oh, how you do carry on, Lizzy,” said Lady Margaret. “I know not how I raised such a teasing daughter, for none of your sisters tease as you do.”
“Except Lydia, of course,” said Elizabeth, smiling at her younger sister. “Kitty can hold her own too when she puts her mind to it.”
“I would prefer you did not dominate my sitting-room with talk of teasing if you please,” said Lady Margaret with a sniff. Then she turned back to Mr. Bingley and said: “How is your mother, Mr. Bingley?”
“Mother is very well,” replied Mr. Bingley.
“And your sister? I understand she has had her confinement—are she and the babe both well?”
“Exceptionally so, I thank you,” replied Mr. Bingley. “Hurst is beside himself with joy at the birth of an heir, and my sister has recovered without difficulty.”
“That is well,” repl
ied Lady Margaret. “A woman’s lying in is a time when so many things can go wrong—this news of your family pleases me. Inform your mother I shall visit her tomorrow.”
“I shall do so, your ladyship.”
Lady Margaret nodded and favored the gentleman with a gracious nod. Then her look turned pensive and she peered at Mr. Bingley for a few moments, the gentleman bearing up well under her scrutiny. After a few moments, she spoke again, saying:
“I must say, Mr. Bingley, that learning of your interest in my eldest daughter was a surprise, for I had seen nothing of it.”
“You did not?” asked Elizabeth. “It was obvious before Jane even turned eighteen—my only question was when Mr. Bingley would act on his obvious interest.”
Lady Margaret’s eyes swung to Elizabeth, a hint of censure contained within. Elizabeth, however, had never been cowed by her mother, and she grinned back, prompting a shake of her head.
“Once again, you are allowing your impertinence to show, Daughter.”
“Perhaps I am,” replied Elizabeth with suppressed laughter. “But you still love me, regardless.”
A laugh escaped her mother’s lips and she touched Elizabeth’s hand. “Yes, I suppose I do, though I will own that sometimes you vex me exceedingly! Now, hush so I may speak to Mr. Bingley.”
“Miss Elizabeth is correct,” said Mr. Bingley. “Long have I admired your daughter, but I thought it would be best to restrain my ardor, for at the same time I was struggling to assume my father’s role on the estate.”
“That is understandable,” replied Lady Margaret. She paused and considered Mr. Bingley, and added: “Jane seems happy with you, so I approve. I can only think you have made a fortunate escape, given your past association with young Master Darcy.”
“If you excuse my saying so, nothing could be further from the truth.”
