Elizabeth did not protest any further. She had been wondering how she was to speak to Miss Bingley alone, for she did not care to have everyone looking at her as she asked Miss Bingley for help in finding a position. Now here was the perfect opportunity. She could speak to Miss Bingley alone at the inn, and then perhaps she would soon become a governess and earn enough money to help support her sisters.
The thought relieved her spirits. She would willingly endure some rowdy children if only she could save her beloved Jane.
She changed her gown as her aunt commanded. She did not put on her best gown, for it was too fine to wear in the day, but she put on a pretty sprigged muslin.
Her aunt was as good as her word and the remedy was waiting for her when she went downstairs.
She put on her pelisse, bonnet and gloves. Luckily, the rain had stopped and the sun had come out. Then she picked up the wicker basket containing the remedy and set out for the inn.
Mr Darcy was in a small sitting room which led off from the private parlour at the inn. He was pretending to write some letters of business, but in fact he had retreated in order to escape from Miss Bingley. Mr Bingley had retired to his room, and Miss Bingley had pestered Mr Darcy ever since with her conversation. He had quickly tired of it and so he had invented an excuse and withdrawn to the sitting room. There was a bookcase there and he had taken up a book, but it did not hold his attention. He wanted to be out of doors, but he knew that Miss Bingley would insist on accompanying him and so he preferred to remain where he was.
His attention turned to the scene outside the window. There was the usual bustle of a busy inn. Carriages coming and going; ladies and gentlemen crossing the yard; urchins holding horses for a penny; a brewer’s cart unloading barrels of ale. There was the sound of iron wheels rolling over cobbles, the neighing of horses and the raucous sound of coachmen’s horns.
And then his eyes alighted on something else. A young lady walking towards the inn and about to enter it.
She did not see him, but he saw her. It was Miss Elizabeth Bennet. There was something captivating about the way she walked. She was not trying to enrapture him, or anyone else. She moved naturally, which was a great relief after the movements of Miss Bingley. Many would have called Miss Bingley elegant, but he found her movements reminded him of a snake. There was something too supple and sinuous about them; something studied and false.
A smile played about his lips as he saw Miss Elizabeth skip out of the way of an urchin chasing a small dog, and then narrowly avoid stepping in a puddle. His smile widened as he heard her laugh at the incident. Miss Bingley would have reprimanded the boy and there would have been tears instead of laughter.
He wondered what she was doing at the inn but he did not have to wait long until his curiosity was satisfied. The door leading from the corridor to the private parlour opened, and he heard a greeting between Miss Bingley and Miss Elizabeth.
‘My aunt has sent a remedy for Mr Bingley,’ said Miss Elizabeth, once the preliminary exchanges were over. ‘She has found it efficacious and she hopes it might help him.’
‘You are too kind,’ said Miss Bingley in a cool voice.
There was the sound of a bottle being put on a table.
‘We were sorry that he could not accept our invitation for dinner, but we are looking forward to receiving you and Mr Darcy.’
There was no answering pleasantry from Miss Bingley, and Mr Darcy guessed she was merely nodding her head. It was a trick of Miss Bingley’s when she did not want to engage in conversation, and he had always thought it underbred. He made allowances, because he knew the Bingleys had made their money in trade, but that did not stop Mr Bingley having a natural delicacy that his sister lacked.
There was a pause, and then Miss Elizabeth said, ‘Miss Bingley. I wonder if you could help me.’
From the tone of her voice, he guessed it had taken her some effort to say those words. He was intrigued. What kind of help could she want from Miss Bingley?
‘I? Help you?’ came the not very inviting reply.
‘Yes.’
Miss Elizabeth had obviously wound herself up to the point of speaking, and he admired her courage, for it took courage to keep going against such obvious coldness.
‘As you have no doubt realised, my parents’ death left my sisters and I in a somewhat difficult situation. I was wondering if you knew anyone who needed a governess or a companion.’
‘But surely . . . your sister seems on the verge of making an advantageous marriage,’ said Miss Bingley in surprise.
‘That is by no means certain. I require a position and I thought there may be someone amongst your acquaintance who would be glad of a well-bred governess.’
‘It is certainly possible,’ said Miss Bingley.
Mr Darcy winced as she said it. Miss Bingley’s tone was smug, as if she enjoyed having Miss Elizabeth in her power. It was another example of her lack of true gentility.
‘If you are to be a governess you will need a wide range of accomplishments. Do you play the piano?’ asked Miss Bingley.
‘A little,’ said Miss Elizabeth modestly.
‘Would you care to show me?’ asked Miss Bingley.
There was a small pianoforte in the corner of the parlour.
‘Certainly.’
There was a pause and then Mr Darcy heard the sweet notes of the pianoforte coming through the wall. He was used to hearing the very best pianists, and it must be admitted that Miss Elizabeth was not one of their number. She struck several wrong notes and the timing was here and there uneven. But there was a great deal of emotion in her playing, so that it touched him, where other more polished performances often left him cold.
‘Oh, dear, I am afraid my acquaintance would require greater proficiency,’ said Miss Bingley with a supercilious laugh. ‘But perhaps you play the harp?’
‘Alas, no. I am afraid I have never touched the instrument.’
Miss Elizabeth sounded deflated, and Mr Darcy felt for her. She was in a very difficult position and Miss Bingley was not making it easy for her. Noblesse oblige should have ensured that Miss Bingley proceeded with kindness and tact, but Miss Bingley once again showed her lack of breeding by almost gloating over Miss Elizabeth. Again, Mr Darcy winced.
‘You are, then, proficient in French and Italian?’ asked Miss Bingley.
She rattled off some excellent questions in both languages. Miss Elizabeth made a halting reply in French and made no attempt to reply in Italian.
‘I am afraid you would make a very bad governess,’ said Miss Bingley, with another annoying laugh. ‘But do not despair. Perhaps some curate might be in need of a wife.’
Mr Darcy’s fists balled in frustration. This was going too far. Miss Elizabeth Bennet could look much higher than a curate. She was the daughter of a landowner, a respected gentleman in the neighbourhood with a fine estate. It was an insult to suggest that she marry a curate.
He heard Miss Elizabeth say in a spirited voice, ‘Thank you for hearing me but I believe I must make my own decisions where my life is concerned. Please accept my best wishes for your brother’s speedy recovery.’
Then the door opened and closed. She had gone. But she had left behind her a very good impression with Mr Darcy, for in thanking Miss Bingley she had shown her true gentility. She had also shown her spirit and he admired her for it.
But when he saw her, a moment later, running past the window, he was grieved to see a tear running down her cheek. She looked so miserable – she, who had earlier worn a cheerful face before the world – and it touched his heart, bringing a lump to his throat. He was surprised at his reaction. It was surely out of proportion to the sight of a chance acquaintance – for Miss Elizabeth Bennet was no more – being unhappy. And yet the fact remained that the sight of her distress made him long to go to her and comfort her. He was so anxious to do it that he actually strode across the room to the door, before he stopped himself. He could not go after her. It would look very odd, and be
sides, what could he do? He could not take her in his arms and wipe away her tears, as he found himself longing to do.
He returned to the middle of the room, shaken. He had never had such feelings before and could not understand why they had assailed him so strongly. But the fact remained that the sight of Miss Elizabeth in tears had reached into his heart.
It was compassion, he told himself. But he had never felt such strong compassion for anyone before.
Following hard on the heels of his desire to sooth Miss Elizabeth came a desire to give Miss Bingley a dressing down. Again, he was half way across the room before he realised he could not to it. He had not been present at the interview, he had simply overheard the conversation, and so he could not comment on it.
Twice he had been racked with strong feelings, and twice he had been unable to act on them, because of propriety. But as his feelings of compassion and anger started to fade, an idea began to form at the back of his mind. His sister needed a companion. His aunt had suggested various ladies but he had not yet appointed anyone. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was available . . .
The more he thought about it, the more he realised how well she fit his requirements. After his aunt’s visit he had been thinking that he wanted someone who was old enough to be sensible and yet not too much older than his sister, so that the two could become friends. He wanted a companion who was light-hearted and cheerful company, and yet at the same time who would not be too frivolous, for he did not want anyone who would lead his sister astray. He also wanted a young lady of good birth – a gentleman’s daughter – but not from too high a family, because someone from too high a family would spend their time lamenting what they had lost, instead of being grateful for what they had. And he wanted someone who would be proud to work for the Darcys and yet at the same time not fawn on them. It seemed as if Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a very good fit for his needs.
He needed to know more about her before he offered her the position, for he was very careful where his sister was concerned. He would make enquiries at the inn. The Bennets were well known in the neighbourhood, and the innkeeper would know if they were respectable. Then he would have a chance to see Miss Elizabeth in her own home at dinner and he would decide if he could trust her. And if he could trust himself.
For, without meaning to, Miss Elizabeth Bennet had worked her way into his thoughts, in a way that no lady had ever done before. He was attracted to her and he could not deny it. He admired her spirit and her tenderness. He also admired her rich glossy curls and her very fine eyes . . .
A smile softened his face as he thought of them. It relaxed all the hard, haughty lines of his countenance and melted them into a visage that was breathtakingly handsome. His body relaxed and a soft light shone from his eyes, radiating outwards with charm and warmth.
It was Miss Elizabeth Bennet who had brought out this new side of him, and he found he liked it. But he must take care. He was considering her as a companion for his sister and so he must behave with scrupulous courtesy towards her. He must give her no hint of his feelings. They were likely to be transitory anyway, he reassured himself, and had no doubt been brought on by his sympathy for her tragic situation. Once she was established in secure employment those feelings would subside, he was convinced. In the meantime, he must behave with great care towards her.
Unlike Miss Bingley, he knew the meaning of noblesse oblige.
Chapter Six
Elizabeth had no idea of the impression she had made on Mr Darcy. Nor did she have any idea that her fortunes were about to change. Instead, she was in low spirits, occasioned by her disastrous conversation with Miss Bingley. Jane was also in low spirits.
‘Remember, Jane, you do not have to accept him,’ said Elizabeth comfortingly.
Jane gave a sad smile.
‘You have seen for yourself how difficult it is to find employment,’ said Jane. ‘You had no success with Miss Bingley, and your visit to the employment office was no more satisfactory.’
Elizabeth could not deny it. She had been upset by Miss Bingley’s shameless gloating, but she had soon rallied and she had gone to the employment office to see if they had anything on their books that might suit her. They had had nothing, and they had not held out much hope of her finding work.
‘Perhaps Mr Bingley will turn out to be charming,’ said Elizabeth. ‘He can certainly not be worse than Mr Collins. If you must marry, then at least wait until you have seen Mr Bingley. He might take a liking to you. As Mama said, you cannot be so beautiful for nothing.’
‘Mr Bingley is not likely to want an impoverished wife,’ said Jane. ‘No, Lizzy, it must be Mr Collins.’
‘Do not give in,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Let us at least find out what Aunt Gardiner has to say. I am sure she will reply to my letter very quickly. Do nothing hasty until we have her advice.’
Jane agreed to this. Then the two young ladies finished dressing.
They made a striking contrast. Jane, with her blonde hair piled high on her head, looked lovely in a pink satin robe with a high waist and long skirt. Elizabeth was not precisely beautiful, but with her dark locks arranged in a bun at the nape of her neck and ringlets framing her face, she was in looks. Her white satin gown with its low, round neck and high waist, accentuated her curves. She looked womanly and attractive.
They went downstairs. They were in good time. Mary was already there, in a grey gown which suited her grey personality. Kitty and Lydia were in sprigged muslin gowns which suited their age. Mr Collins was well dressed in cream breeches and a russet tailcoat. Indeed, if it were possible to ignore the pompous nothings he was uttering to Mrs Philips, he would not seem too bad. But unfortunately it was not possible to ignore them and Elizabeth shook her head in shame. Mrs Philips, who was in purple satin, did not appear to see anything stupid in his remarks, and she nodded her head agreeably, as if he had been the cleverest man in the world. Mr Philips was also there, in a rather shabby tailcoat and breeches.
Lydia was the first to spot the carriage. She had been facing the window so that she could see it as soon as it arrived.
‘La! Here are our guests.’
Elizabeth looked to the window. The carriage had by now rolled to a halt. The footman opened the door and Mr Darcy stepped out first, then he handed Miss Bingley out. She descended the steps regally and then adjusted her reticule before taking Mr Darcy’s arm and heading for the door.
Elizabeth’s heart sank as she remembered Miss Bingley’s condescending attitude but she quickly rallied. Her spirit was one to rise to challenges, not to be defeated.
‘Now girls, I want you to be on your best behaviour for our visitors,’ said Mrs Philips. ‘We want to make a good impression on them so that they encourage Mr Bingley to move into the neighbourhood. A single gentleman with five thousand a year is always welcome. And who knows but Mr Darcy might take a fancy to one of you?’
‘A connection with the Darcy family would be something indeed,’ said Mr Collins. ‘Had I not inherited Longbourn I might have acknowledged Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Mr Darcy’s aunt, as my patroness. I had been recommended to her by one of my tutors, for she had a living about to fall vacant, and she was gracious enough to say she would see me once I was ordained. Alas, now it will never be. But I must mention it to Mr Darcy. I am sure he will like to hear all about it.’
‘Perhaps, as it did not happen, it would be better not to mention it,’ said Elizabeth.
She dreaded the thought of Mr Collins making a fool of himself in front of Mr Darcy.
‘My dear young lady, it is for gentlemen to know what is best and ladies to follow their lead,’ said Mr Collins patronisingly. ‘You must allow me to be the best judge of what is right and proper when dealing with Society. I am a man of the world, whereas your life has necessarily been very sheltered. You can trust me to know what is right and proper.’
‘Well said, Mr Collins. You put it just right. I could not have put it better myself. Elizabeth has always been forthright,’ said Mrs Philips
apologetically. ‘Lizzy, keep your opinions to yourself unless asked for. Mr Collins will be thinking you have been badly brought up.’
Elizabeth was ready to make a reply, but there was no time, as the door was opening and the guests were being shown into the room.
Mrs Philips made them welcome and invited them to sit down.
‘What a charming little room,’ said Miss Bingley. ‘It reminds me of the housekeeper’s room at Pemberley.’
Everyone was momentarily silenced by this piece of bad manners. Mr Darcy had the goodness to look ashamed of his companion. Miss Bingley, however, was undeterred.
‘Do you not think so, Mr Darcy?’ she went on, turning to him appealingly.
‘No. I do not,’ he said. ‘This room is larger and has a better aspect.’
Elizabeth shot him a look of gratitude.
‘I am sure Miss Bingley meant no offence. Pemberley is a very fine estate, I hear, and I am certain all the rooms are magnificent,’ said Mr Collins.
‘I am sure Miss Bingley knew exactly what she meant,’ said Mr Darcy.
‘Of course! Of course! She knew that no insult was intended. Quite the opposite, I am sure,’ said Mr Collins.
Elizabeth smiled behind her hand. Miss Bingley might have bad manners, but Mr Darcy evidently was a gentleman. She understood his comment, unlike Mr Collins, who had mistaken his meaning. Mr Darcy had not been implying that Miss Bingley intended no insult. On the contrary, he was making it clear that he knew Miss Bingley was being deliberately insulting and that he did not admire her for it.
Miss Bingley was not confident enough to carry on in this strain and she changed the subject. The garden was discussed. Her brother’s health was asked about and received a positive reply. Mr Bingley was feeling much better. He was sorry he could not be there but eating dinner would be beyond him. The remedy sent from the Longbourn kitchens had been received gratefully by him and he had asked for his thanks to be passed on.
A Companion For Miss Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 6
