This had prompted Darcy to visit Bingley less often, but he did not like neglecting his friend altogether or depriving himself of good company. Today’s visit was already long overdue considering what regard there was between them. Bingley had called upon him two weeks ago, and they had not happened to be in company together in the intervening time.
Darcy was hoping that the two of them might sit in Mr. Hurst’s library, an underused and understocked room, but suitable for the purpose of undisturbed conversation. Miss Bingley would not hear of it however.
“You are not the only one he has come to see,” she protested to her brother, and Darcy could not politely contradict her, much as he wanted to. With resignation, he took a seat in the drawing room, which was ostentatiously decorated in the most up to date fashion. The money in the marriage was almost entirely Mrs. Hurst’s, and it was largely spent for the purpose of proclaiming her elegance to the world. Mr. Hurst’s role was that of bringing fashionable people into their home to complement and compliment his wife’s arrangements.
Mr. Bingley was also acquainted with a fair share of well-placed members of society. A year ago, when Mr. Darcy had first met him, he had been living in very comfortable lodgings of the most refined sort. Through various friends, a few invitations had come his way in his early days in London, and his likability had soon increased their number. Many a hostess in need of an extra gentleman would say, “I shall invite that nice Mr. Bingley.” From that usefulness, he had moved up to being a preferred guest who was in some demand.
Darcy suspected this to be the reason why Mrs. Hurst had encouraged her brother to give up his lodgings and go to live in her house. His willingness to contribute generously towards the household expenses was a great benefit of this arrangement, but his popularity had not been extended to his sisters. His presence in the household had not achieved the desired result of opening up to them new circles of society beyond the ones to which Mr. Hurst had access. On occasion, his invitations were extended to include his family, but most hostesses continued to treat him as a single gentleman.
Mr. Darcy guessed that he was also valued as a potential source of new introductions. Since Christmas, Mrs. Hurst had twice invited him to dine, and he had been obliged to return the courtesy, selecting as their fellow diners some of Mr. Bingley’s friends whom they already knew. He would not allow himself to be used.
Today, however, he became aware that Miss Bingley’s hopes extended further than introductions to the right people. First, he noticed that she favoured him with a wide smile when he came into the room. Next, she smoothed her hair as he sat down. Then, she flicked her eyelashes and fixed her gaze upon him.
“It was intrepid of you to venture out in this weather,” she said.
Now that he thought of it, she did seem to compliment him a great deal. He really should have remarked this sooner.
“It was nothing,” he said dismissively. “The wind has settled down. Much as I was looking forward to seeing your brother, I would not have had the carriage brought out if there had been any danger.”
This pointed reference to the real reason for his visit seemed not to affect her.
“How is dear Georgiana,” she asked as though they too were great friends.
“Very well,” was his short reply, but his terseness did not put Miss Bingley off.
“I hope to see her again soon. I am so very attached to her,” she gushed. “I do declare that I love her quite like a sister.”
That was most definitely a hint. The tone had been too forceful for an idle comment. Mr. Darcy did his best to brush it off.
“I have often heard ladies express such a feeling for their friends,” he said. “There is a delightful congeniality among the members of your sex.”
In fact, he had never observed Miss Bingley to be especially congenial to others of her sex, but this general observation helped to steer her away from the intimacy which she was trying to establish. She could not resist an opening to mention a few of the well-connected ladies whom she counted among her friends, and the rest of their conversation was given over to her boasts of having the most superior acquaintance and being highly valued by them.
“Miss Beaumont is forever asking my opinion on all manner of things,” she said.
She droned on and Mr. Darcy thought that in her determination to dominate the conversation she resembled the gust which had blown through his little park. He was like the sheet of paper which had been battered against the tree and then tossed up into the air under the power of the wind. Miss Bingley would very much like to have him under her power, but he was equally determined that it would never happen. He might not know exactly what he wanted, but at least he was perfectly capable of recognizing what he did not want.
______
Elizabeth watched leaves and twigs being tossed around the lawn. Some piece of fabric, presumably whisked off somebody’s laundry line, was being blown down the lane. It caught against a bush, and was trapped there for a moment until a puff of wind flicked it away from the foliage and back into the lane, where it tumbled onward. On a sudden impulse, Elizabeth dashed outside and chased after the wayward garment, which she managed to retrieve. It was a small child’s frock, which narrowed down the number of gardens from which it might have come. After the weather had blown itself out, she would walk into the village and see about returning this article of clothing to its owner.
An hour later, the forceful wind had diminished to a more moderate breeze, and Elizabeth walked the short distance to Longbourn village. The frock was restored to its appreciative owner, who was at that moment in the process of pegging out the laundry which she had earlier rescued from the rain.
“I was taking this lot down as fast as I could when I saw that frock fly off the line,” she said.
They spent a few minutes chatting about the blustery morning and its affect upon the village. Several other people were missing items which had blown away, a few rooves were in need of some minor repairs, and there was a general state of untidiness which would have to be put to rights.
“But nothing worse,” her informant said cheerfully. “We will soon sort out the mess.”
Indeed, as Elizabeth returned home, she saw that people were already at work. Young children were energetically running about, picking up the small bits and pieces strewn across the gardens, and throwing them into a basket. They waved cheerfully to her. Some older ones, who were dragging a large branch, stopped to tell her that luckily nobody had been hurt. She received polite nods from a group of men who were already setting to work on one of the rooves. The villagers were setting an admirable example of resilience and cooperation.
The entire Bennet family dined out that evening. They had been invited to the home of Mrs. Bennet’s sister in order to meet her husband’s new clerk, whom she had described as a remarkably superior gentleman. Elizabeth had her doubts about the superiority of one who had been driven to accept such a lowly position, but as a keen observer of human foibles, she was always happy to increase the number of her acquaintance.
The gentleman did not disappoint. She soon had the idea that it was he who had put the word superior into her aunt’s mind. In answer to a query about his home, he not only named the county of his origin, but also claimed an important connection with a prominent family.
“You probably recognized my name and guessed that I am descended from one of the most distinguished families in the land,” he said.
From his failure to specify the exact degree of relationship Elizabeth guessed that it was a rather distant one. His current circumstances supported that idea. Surely, if he were well-known to such important people, they would have used their influence to secure him a more desirable position.
Still, he droned on about the more famous of his relatives and their various properties until she was heartily sick of the subject. She exchanged a few glances of exasperation with her father and Jane. Her mother, her younger sisters and Mrs. Phillips, however, all leaned toward him, hung
on to his every word and gazed at his well-formed features with admiration, which held firm even as he faltered in his responses to her father’s carefully-crafted questions.
He dominated the conversation, saying a great deal about himself and showing little interest in his company, which did not recommend him to Elizabeth. She thought him a windbag and found his manners and conversation pretentious. They were also incongruous with his relative insignificance, and his unwillingness to accept that was a great weakness. A man could waste his life away always focusing on how he appeared instead of what he was at his core.
“He might do very well for one of you girls,” Mrs. Bennet said on the way home. “Mr. Phillips is mightily pleased with him and will very likely take him into partnership in another year or two once he has gained some experience.”
Kitty and Lydia immediately began disputing which one of them he preferred. His current circumstances were no better than the curate’s, and his future prospects seemed to depend largely upon the goodwill of Mr. Phillips. There was very little difference between the two cases, and Elizabeth was disappointed to see how easily her sisters’ favour was won by an attractive face and a smooth tongue. They had no regard for common sense. Since their new friend’s success was highly desirable, they were certain that it would come to be and very capable of imagining his future income as larger than could be possible.
They ignored their father when he spoke up in practicality. “Even with a partnership, I do not suppose he could afford to keep either one of you in the style which you are imagining.”
He really could not, and it was better that Kitty and Lydia should understand this and not disappoint themselves by forming impossible hopes. Unfortunately, the best hope of that was for them to transfer their interest to some other gentleman, which was unlikely since handsome young men did not often come into the neighbourhood.
Even worse, it was so meaningless. They both were quick to imagine attachments for the most superficial of reasons. If they continued in this way of thinking, they would likely end up in marriages which would soon lose their novelty. When reality set in, it would bring disappointment and discontent in its wake, like the mess which had been strewn about the village, but not so easy to set to rights.
April Showers
Two gentlemen stood in the shelter of a gazebo and watched the rain pelting the drooping flowers, the slick flagstones and the spiky hedges.
“I do not know why I keep coming here,” Mr. Darcy said to his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“Because she would hound you if you did not,” was the amused response.
“You know what I mean. I am fed up with her insistence that I shall marry Anne. If that was what I wanted, I would have done so already.”
“Then you should tell her so plainly.”
“I have tried. She waves a hand and reminds me that it was my mother’s dearest wish.”
“Then there is only one solution. You must marry somebody else. Our aunt will be furious, but at least she will no longer be able to press Anne upon you.”
“I did think about getting married. Not as a way of evading our aunt’s wishes, but because I thought that I would like to have a wife.”
“You have since changed your mind?”
“I have decided not to hurry anything.”
The colonel eyed him. “You have been turned down?”
“Not exactly. I was beaten to the moment by somebody else.”
“I am sorry to hear it.”
“You need not be sorry. Afterwards I realized that I was not especially attached to the lady.”
“Yet you were intending to propose to her?”
“She seemed ideal at the time. The epitome of good breeding and upbringing. Excellent manners and comportment. Accomplished and elegant.”
“Good God, Darcy. If that is your approach to the business, you must promise me that you will not attempt any more proposals. Marriage should be dictated by affection.”
“I thought that I did feel affection.”
“Probably because she fit all your requirements, but that is not true affection. You must forget about such nonsense or you may find yourself married to a lady whom you can barely tolerate after a year or two.”
“I am sure that would not have been the case.”
“Perhaps not, but you would have felt a niggling disappointment. An undefinable feeling that something was missing in your life.”
Mr. Darcy could not argue that point. He had been feeling a lack of something special, and had twice failed to find it.
“Next time, listen to your heart,” his cousin said. “And do not go looking for a wife. Mistakes often happen when one tries too hard to seek something. You must wait and let happiness fall into your hand rather than searching for it.”
Mr. Darcy laughed. “It will never fall into my hand if I do not make the effort to go out and meet people.”
“You never know. Sometimes things happen quite unexpectedly and in the oddest places.”
______
From underneath the umbrella which she was sharing with Jane, Elizabeth could see raindrops splashing upon the glistening pavement and the feet of people who were rushing past them, evidently in a hurry to get out of the wet weather. She and her sister were not in so much of a hurry. They were used to getting caught in the occasional rainstorm without such excellent protection, so it was quite pleasant to stroll along under the shelter of their uncle’s large umbrella, which he had pressed upon them with foresight when they had left for a walk in a nearby park.
They had been spending the month of April at the home of their aunt and uncle Gardiner who lived in London. Elizabeth found it refreshing to observe daily the felicity of a marriage based upon mutual affection, which was still flourishing after a dozen years, and supported by good sense, which both partners had in abundance. She admired the regard which Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had for each other, and the respect which was fostered by clear communication. This was what a marriage should be, and what she hoped to have in her own marriage if she should be so fortunate.
Their time in London had been quiet, since the Gardiners did not go out often, but there had been a few entertainments, and several dinners with good friends, on which occasions the sisters had become acquainted with three unattached young men. It was a welcome change from home that Mrs. Gardiner did not say anything concerning the potential these gentlemen offered for husband-seeking, as their mother most certainly would have done. She would have seen attractions which did not exist and spoken bluntly of hopes which were absurd.
With their aunt and uncle, however, Elizabeth and Jane had been able to meet these gentlemen as pleasant companions for an evening, and enjoy a little conversation without the discomfort of being pressed to make themselves appealing and encouraged to catch a husband. When their aunt told them that Mr. Acton was in an interesting line of business, that Mr. Blake had recently been called to the bar, and that Mr. Crandall had been offered a partnership in a thriving company, she relayed these pieces of information with pleasure at her friends’ success. Elizabeth knew that her mother would only care to know if these successes equated to being able to afford a wife.
Things had been so much more comfortable away from home, where there was constant talk of finding husbands and securing one’s future. In London, there was freedom to enjoy each moment without the burden of maternal expectations.
May Flowers
Exquisite blossoms were everywhere. They were tucked into the ladies’ hair, the gentlemen’s buttonholes, and the elaborate garlands which encircled the room. They overflowed elegant vases, stood tall in enormous urns, and cascaded from the elaborate chandeliers. It was an extravagant bounty. Mr. Darcy had never seen a ballroom so festooned with flowers.
Despite having decided to forget about his earlier inclination to marry, he had continued to attend a great many balls at the urging of his aunt and uncle. He had also been dancing much more often than usual, being frequently encouraged to partner th
e daughters of their friends. Some were pretty, a few were witty, and all were eligible matches, but he danced, conversed, and followed form without finding his heart affected by any of them.
“What about Miss Windley?” his aunt asked. “She has charming manners. Or Miss Tebbutt with her 40,000 pounds.”
“They are perfectly nice ladies,” he replied, “but I have no particular feeling for either of them.”
“You have no particular feeling for anybody,” she said in a tone of exasperation. The season will soon be over, and you are quite unable to settle upon anybody.”
“I do not want to settle,” he said with determination.
“Perhaps Lady Letitia,” his uncle said. “I am sure a nephew of mine can do better than a plain Miss.”
“I do not care about titles,” Mr. Darcy declared, but he knew that was not entirely true. His fancy for Lady Mary had been influenced by her status. His own priorities at that time had been no different from her own.
He saw her quite frequently, and made a point of dancing and talking with her just as they had always done, with the hope that he was giving everybody the impression of there being nothing different in their acquaintance since her engagement. Her value for a title over all else had lowered her in his opinion, but pride made him keep up a semblance of friendship so that nobody would guess what his aspirations had been.
He was by no means perfect, he admitted to himself. Like any other gentlemen, he did not want his foibles and weaknesses exposed to the world. But he did not want to be led down that path again. Richard was right. Titles and elegance and wealth were all meaningless. He was looking for something more.
No. He was not looking. He was hoping. He was waiting for a gift of fate. But he was not looking.
Amidst the hothouse blooms, Mr. Darcy took his next partner to the dance and felt that it was all a sham. Feigned smiles, false fronts and flimsy feelings abounded in this fake garden. He welcomed the coming end of the season.
Feather in the Wind: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 2
