by Jennifer Joy
Miss Bingley looked like an iris in a lavender silk gown she picked at and fussed with until it folded just right around her on the couch.
“And how is it that you have decided to grace London with your presence, Mr. Darcy? I do hope you will stay long enough for us to acquaint ourselves. Charles speaks fondly of you and Miss Darcy, but I have not had the honor of being much in your company.”
Georgiana entered the room, her face pallid and gaunt. She wore a mauve gown which only accentuated the gray cloud surrounding her.
Miss Bingley smiled brightly at the gloomy girl and patted the seat on the couch next to her.
“The years have been kind to you, Miss Darcy. You must have been in the schoolroom last time I had occasion to see you. You have blossomed into a lovely young woman. Charles, you did not do Miss Darcy justice when you described her beauty.”
“And why should I when I heard they were in town and you could see for yourself? Besides— and please forgive me, Miss Darcy, for sounding foolish— I had half expected to see you in plaits and knee skirts.”
“No, Charles, she is a proper young lady now. Will you have your coming out this year?” Miss Bingley asked enthusiastically.
Bingley shrugged his shoulders and sat back in his chair.
“I suppose so,” Georgiana replied, as she took the seat offered to her next to Miss Bingley. “That is, if my brother will allow it.” The edge in her voice was not lost on Darcy.
Miss Bingley dismissed her concern with a fluttering of her fingers. “Of course you will come out. It is expected, and you will be all the sensation. How exciting it will be to plan your gowns and bonnets in the latest fashions.” She sighed in reverie. “You know, you are very intelligent for coming to town whilst the ton are away hunting on their country estates. You can have your pick of the finest dressmakers before the rush in the spring.”
Bingley grimaced at his sister’s comment. “I should enjoy getting away from the city. What do you think of country life, Darcy? Is it to be preferred over life in town?” He looked intensely at Darcy. Almost too intensely.
Measuring his words until he understood the import of the question, Darcy said, “Country life has advantages. Fresh air, space to ride freely, hunting, quiet… For those of a less social nature and few responsibilities which require a presence in town, it is preferable.”
Miss Bingley agreed wholeheartedly. “There is that. I would think that life in the country would be rather dull for someone used to a bursting social calendar, such as myself.”
Darcy did not want Georgiana to think she would suffer boredom at Pemberley. “Perhaps, in the absence of social obligations, a lady would have more time to improve her accomplishments. Georgiana plays beautifully and paints as well.”
“I daresay country ladies of the higher classes are the most accomplished in the kingdom if they imitate Miss Darcy.” Turning to Georgiana, she said, “I should love to hear you play. It seems that we have many talents in common and I should love for you to consider me your friend.”
What Miss Bingley lacked in modesty, she made up in compliments to Georgiana who seemed to thaw in the Bingleys’ company.
“What a lovely idea, Caroline. I daresay Miss Darcy would be a good influence and give you someone to talk with about gowns, decorations, fineries, and all the stuff you ladies enjoy discussing. I admit that I am lost when it comes to such things.” Turning to Darcy, Bingley continued, “Would you both like to join us this evening? You would be the perfect addition to our small dinner party, and I am in need of your steady counsel for a venture I have planned.”
Both intrigued over Bingley’s venture and content to have an excuse for Georgiana to leave the house, Darcy accepted. “We would be delighted to join you.”
They left, and Darcy was alone in the waiting room with Georgiana. He ignored her disinclination to speak.
“What do you think of the Bingleys?”
“I am a poor judge of character, remember? Why do you care?” she grumbled.
“I do care a great deal about you, Georgiana. You may not believe me now, but I do. For this reason, I intend to encourage their friendship until we leave for Pemberley.”
“Be watchful of Miss Bingley. She has her eye on you.”
Darcy had not noticed any attempts to gain his favor. Miss Bingley had been complimentary toward Georgiana and quick to tout her own talents, but he supposed her lack of tact stemmed from her family roots in trade. It was a small flaw and easy enough to overlook.
“Thank you for the warning.” He hardly felt it was justified, but it pleased him to hear Georgiana expressing her opinion. It was a start.
Chapter 3
Elizabeth Bennet followed her mother and sisters to Aunt Phillips’ corner house on Meryton’s main street. Uncle Phillips was an attorney and kept his office opposite Aunt’s sitting room. Her house had a front door as wide as her mouth and Elizabeth and her family entered through it seeking out the latest of the week’s gossip.
Aunt Phillips’ sitting room was more generously proportioned than theirs at Longbourn, but it was not so large as to lose its intimacy. Three large windows overlooked the street in front of the fireplace. It had been a week since their last call and Mother was not one to waste an opportunity to save her own tea leaves by indulging in her sister’s with the added advantage of some gossip to accompany it.
Crowding themselves at the round table situated in front of the windows, Kitty and Lydia gorged themselves with biscuits and the last of the summer berries. Mary piously nibbled on a dry biscuit as she looked on in scorn at the greed of her two younger sisters.
Having exhausted all the subjects of polite conversation in mere minutes, Aunt Phillips moved on to the local news. Her cheeks turned as peach as the color of her walls. What she was about to say was worth hearing— if not for its accuracy, then certainly for its entertainment value. Elizabeth leaned forward, basking in the guilty pleasure of listening to idle talk.
"You will never guess what the Simmons girl has been up to. Her family will try to brush it under the rug, but I feel it is my duty as an aunt to warn you so that my nieces might not be put in the awkward position of making polite conversation with her were they to chance upon her."
Lydia, sensing a scandal, stopped chewing. "Lor, what could she possibly have done? She has such a stubby nose and a ruddy complexion, I always thought she resembled a pink pig."
Kitty snorted, and the girls reeled in laughter.
"I doubt Aunt’s news has anything to do with the shape or color of Miss Simmons’ nose. Perhaps we should allow her to finish," said Elizabeth.
Aunt Phillips paused long enough to ensure that all eyes in the room were on her before she continued. "She has eloped with Mr. Harris' eldest son." She sat back in her chair to observe their reactions.
Mother pulled out her constant accessory. "Oh, dear me," she repeated as she fanned herself so vigorously, strands of hair came loose and whirled around her face.
Aunt lowered her voice, though nobody besides her relatives was in the room. "Her family is in disgrace. I overheard one of the servants say that they planned to buy a small home for the couple away from here. It is just as well they do not attempt to return. Who would want to befriend them or have their daughters call on Miss Simmons, or should I say Mrs. Harris, when it is known how she married?"
"I think an elopement is romantic. I shall elope with a handsome gentleman and marry before Jane," exclaimed Lydia as she stuffed another biscuit into her mouth.
Mother rapped her fan against Lydia’s hand as she reached out for more cream. “Not if you are too fat. You will make your aunt think I never feed you if you carry on so.”
“Well, I still think it is incredibly romantic and should like to elope,” Lydia mumbled through the partially chewed biscuit still in her mouth, unused to receiving correction.
"You will do no such thing. People who love each other never elope and precious few couples feel such an attachment before they wed,"
said Aunt Phillips.
Elizabeth half-agreed with her aunt. Elopement seemed so sneaky and secretive. When she fell in love, she would want to declare it to the world, not hide it.
Mother stopped fanning herself long enough to comment. "Jane, did not Mr. Harris ask you to dance with him at the last assembly?"
"He did."
Elizabeth knew where this was going. "Several gentlemen asked Jane to dance, Mother."
"What a pity Mr. Harris is married. He was one of the better gentlemen around Meryton, and now he too is unavailable." She waved her fan again. "Ah, my poor nerves. Fiona, I need not tell you how trying it is to have five girls of marriageable age and not one of them engaged. With Mr. Harris wed, now who will they marry?"
Elizabeth had not known Mother thought Mr. Harris so desirable. His family had an estate slightly larger than Longbourn on the other side of Meryton, but it was well known that he sought an heiress. Miss Simmons, while not an heiress, had a dowry large enough to tempt him.
Aunt Phillips grew serious as she looked at Jane and Elizabeth. "I wonder, Fanny, how wise it is of you to encourage your daughters to keep company with Miss Lucas. She is over twenty-five years of age and shows every sign of becoming a spinster. She is quite on the shelf as it is."
Elizabeth was quick to defend her best friend. "Charlotte is not on the shelf. It is just that she is not so romantically inclined as most young ladies are. She is far too sensible to marry the first man to ask."
"Yet she is of an age when she will have to do precisely that. She would do well to be asked at all at this point," said Aunt.
"I see nothing wrong in marrying a man she can admire and respect. I should prefer to love the man I choose to marry."
Aunt Phillips raised her teaspoon, pointing it at Elizabeth. "And that, my dear Fanny, is why your girls have not married. If you do not correct their thinking, Longbourn will be just as crowded in five years’ time than it is now."
Elizabeth did not particularly care for this line of reasoning, but she remained quiet. Every argument she had supplied had gone against her favor thus far. She looked over at Jane, who nodded her support to her sister.
Mother brooded all the way home. It was not often that she fell silent, and Elizabeth’s anxiety grew the closer they got to home. Mother’s calculating glances in her direction did not help.
When they arrived at Longbourn, Mother marched into the house in the direction of Father’s study.
“You are in for it now, Lizzy,” teased Lydia.
That was exactly what worried Elizabeth. She sat in the cluttered drawing room, waiting to get whatever was to come over with and secretly hoping that the abundance of embroidered cushions, bits of lace, and strands of ribbon would hide her.
It did not take long for Mother to puff into the room followed by Father. He looked like he had been interrupted in the most profound of thoughts and was only now catching on to what was happening.
Mother stood in the middle of the room and clasped her hands. “How convenient you are all here, for I wish to call a meeting to discuss your future,” she addressed her daughters. Looking to Father, she said, “They must marry soon.”
Father stood in front of the fireplace and rocked back on his heels. “Have you thought of another scheme to increase the size of their dowry?”
“You speak of their dowry as if they have one at all, Mr. Bennet. It is a pitiable poor sum, and their only hope is that a rich gentleman become infatuated with one of them and marry her.” She balled her hands on top of her hips and tapped her toe against the wood floor.
“Mother, it is hardly our fault that we remain unmarried. Single gentlemen of means are rare in this part of the country.” To Elizabeth, this was just another one of Mother’s episodes. Since Jane had turned fifteen and had narrowly escaped marriage to a gentleman completely unsuited to her, the subject of marriage reared its ugly head at least once every couple of months. It was a real concern to Mother, who had been blessed with five daughters— none of whom would inherit the entailed estate.
“I do declare that Kitty and Lydia shall marry before you and Jane find a suitable match. If only you could do like most young ladies do. Marry first and fall in love later. Very few women have the luxury of falling in love before marrying.”
“Is there really such a hurry, Mother? Father is in excellent health and, as you say, Kitty and Lydia may do very well. In fact, perhaps there will be no need for Jane and me to marry at all.” It was a brazen thing to say, but the temptation was too great, and Elizabeth always did have a difficult time controlling her tongue.
Father snickered from where he stood.
“This is hardly a laughing matter. You are twenty years old, and Jane is older. You will soon be past the bloom of your youth, and who will want you then?”
Feeling her color rise, Elizabeth interrupted. “If the gentleman should be so superficial as to marry based solely on our appearance, then he is undeserving of our affection.” She looked at Jane, who sat in silence on the sofa.
“Really, dear, as Lizzy says, I am in excellent health, and I do not plan on dying anytime soon. What is the great hurry?”
“You always do take Lizzy’s side, but this time I am right, Mr. Bennet. If they do not act soon— and I do mean very soon– then they shall be put on the shelf just like Miss Lucas. You may say what you will, but I know of very few women who would choose such a life. The world is unkind to spinsters of little or no means.” Mother puffed herself up. “It is for this reason that your father and I have decided that you are to encourage the next gentleman you are presented to and you must accept the first proposal made to you.”
As if they received marriage proposals every day. Elizabeth could not believe what she was hearing.
“Kitty and Lydia are out and we cannot afford to send them out properly with our eldest two still unmarried. You must also consider their happiness instead of selfishly insisting on falling in love.”
Elizabeth balked at the accusation against her character. "I do love my sisters. Jane and I regularly give up our allowance for Kitty’s trifles and Lydia’s treats. However, I fail to see how that makes us selfish for wanting to find a happy marriage."
The room fell silent. Jane picked at the fringe on the edge of a pillow, her gaze fixed to the floor. Her face was red and Elizabeth understood why. Jane was so easily influenced and would marry the first gentleman to ask her— leading to her eternal unhappiness— if Mother had her way.
It was unfair. Of anybody, Jane deserved to be happy, for she was the sweetest, kindest person Elizabeth had ever had the honor to know. Elizabeth could fend for herself. She would use her imagination and find other sources of distraction to pass the days in a pleasant way. Not so for Jane. A bad match would crush her, and Elizabeth determined not to let such a thing happen.
Elizabeth looked to Father, who had been quiet during mother's discourse. Pinching his chin and leaning back against his heels, he addressed Mother. "Now, dear, we can come to a mutual agreement shortly. If Lizzy and Jane promise to do their best to… put themselves out there… put their best foot forward and all that,… would that satisfy you?"
Mother tapped her toes to the rhythm of her thoughts– quickly. Pointing her finger at Elizabeth, she said, "No sarcastic comments from you. Not only do you scare the gentlemen away from yourself, but it ruins Jane's chances. You will not prevent a gentleman from proposing and you are to accept it if he asks."
Inwardly rolling her eyes, Elizabeth said, "Then, I shall agree with everything and only express common views when asked my opinion."
"Excellent. Then we have an agreement." Mother clapped her hands together in triumph, ignoring Elizabeth’s tone.
Again father spoke. He had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You will have opportunity to practice this self-imposed restraint tomorrow night, Lizzy. Sir William informed me that a gentleman will be present at our dinner at Lucas Lodge."
"Is he single? Oh, Mr. Bennet, do tell!" At the me
ntion of the gentleman, Mother recovered her humor, and Elizabeth could imagine her planning a winter wedding.
Father held his hands up in defense against the barrage of questions coming from Mother. "I only know that he is a distant cousin of Sir William, and I imagine he intends him for Miss Lucas. So do not make yourself too anxious, my love."
The family meeting thus brought to a finish, Father returned to his study. Mother trailed after him trying to find out more about this mysterious gentleman than Father knew and speculating as to his wealth and position in society.
The younger sisters went upstairs; Elizabeth sat down next to Jane. "You were very quiet."
Jane smiled at Elizabeth. "While you spoke enough for both of us."
“Someone had to speak up. What got into Mother? Do you suppose she is serious?”
“We shall find out tomorrow at dinner. She did seem determined. More than normal.”
“I hate being forced to do something against my will, especially something as permanent as a marriage.” Elizabeth paused. "Jane, what do you wish for in a husband?"
"I do not think I expect too much. I should like my husband to be kind— a true gentleman. I can be content without fineries so long as he is that." She looked up from where her eyes had fixed dreamily on the floor. "What about you, Lizzy?"
"I would do well to find someone with a humor similar to my own. I love to laugh and enjoy looking for the ridiculous in each situation. I would like very much to meet someone who could join me in my merriment. For all that, I will probably marry someone who takes himself much too seriously.”
“Be careful what you say. Stranger predictions have come true for the simple reason that they were spoken aloud.”
Elizabeth, in an effort to feel more confident than she did, raised her head and said, “I am equal to the task. Give me one overly-serious gentleman, and I will soon teach him to laugh before we wed.”
Chapter 4
Dining at Lucas Lodge was always an exciting event in the Bennet household. Sir William had been bestowed a knighthood ages ago, and he had taken great pains over the years to ensure nobody forgot about it by frequently inviting the best families to his home for lavish meals. Mother took their invitation as a compliment, but she also wondered aloud why they should not be included more often.
