The Companion

by Jann Rowland

  “How wonderful it is to see you, Miss Bennet,” said she. “I had no notion you would be here tonight.”

  “Nor I you, Miss Bingley,” replied Jane.

  “It seems like Miss de Bourgh planned a larger gathering than either of you had anticipated,” replied Mr. Bingley. “I, for one, could not be happier.”

  Jane blushed while Miss Bingley colored, but Mr. Bingley did not notice, as he had already turned to Jane to speak to her again. For a few moments, Miss Bingley watched them with anger before trying again.

  “How long will you be in London, Miss Bennet?”

  “Our plans are not fixed, but I do not think it will be much longer. Both Lizzy and I have been from home for some time now, and our father is eager for us to return.”

  “I see,” said Miss Bingley, a slow smile spreading over her face. “And your family and all your sisters—they are quite well? I seem to remember their fascination with the officers—I do hope they are still . . . eager for their acquaintance.”

  “Not having been home in some time I cannot speak with any accuracy,” replied Jane, parrying Miss Bingley’s attack. “But by all accounts, they are all well, though I have heard that the officers are to decamp for Brighton for the summer.”

  “That is a great pity,” sneered Miss Bingley.

  “You are to return to Longbourn?” asked Mr. Bingley, focusing on what, to him, must have been the more important subject.

  “Indeed, we are,” replied Jane. Her sad smile seemed to suggest that she was not confident of his reaction.

  “Then that is quite agreeable, indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Bingley. “I do not know of anyone who likes to be in London for the summer. As I have an estate I have leased and have not been to in some time, it is the perfect time for us to retire to the country as well.”

  The smile ran away from Miss Bingley’s face, and her distress was in reverse proportion to Jane’s growing happiness. “You are to go to Hertfordshire this summer?” asked Jane, her voice alive with hope.

  “Of course,” replied Mr. Bingley, the firmness in his tone greater than any Elizabeth had ever heard from the man. “Certain . . . other circumstances have kept me from Hertfordshire these past months, but I have known few happier times than last autumn when we were all there together. I will be very happy to be among the good people of Meryton again.”

  “Charles,” said Miss Bingley, a hint of desperation in her tone, “perhaps—”

  “No, Caroline, my decision has been made,” replied Mr. Bingley. “I have leased Netherfield and have not been there for some months now. It is time to resume my responsibilities.” Mr. Bingley turned back to Jane with a look of infinite tenderness. “If Miss Bennet is to be there as well, that is simply fortunate for me.”

  Miss Bingley subsided, but not with any grace that Elizabeth could detect. She watched them with annoyance mixed with dread, but when she caught Elizabeth’s eyes, her look became one of pure poison.

  They went into dinner soon after, and again Elizabeth was heartened by the way that Mr. Bingley insisted upon escorting Jane to dinner, despite whatever protocol dictated, leaving his brother-in-law to escort Anne, while Mr. Darcy escorted Mrs. Hurst. The others all paired up according to their various rankings, but the one who caught Elizabeth’s eye was Colonel Fitzwilliam. It was clear that even though he did not know the extent of the histories which were playing out before him, he knew that something was afoot, and he delighted in it accordingly.

  “It seems my cousin has done some scheming, Miss Elizabeth,” said he as he escorted Elizabeth and Georgiana into the dining room.

  “Indeed, she has,” replied Elizabeth.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam snorted. “I would never have thought she had it in her. I am now wondering if I was too hasty in declaiming any interest in pursuing her as a marriage partner.”

  Curious, Elizabeth eyed the colonel, not having heard any suggestion of any kind of an attachment between Colonel Fitzwilliam and Anne, but as he did not venture to clarify his remarks, Elizabeth would not ask impertinent questions.

  It was after dinner in the music room when Miss Bingley was afforded the opportunity to vent her spleen. Elizabeth and Miss Bingley had taken their turns at the pianoforte—Georgiana could not be prevailed upon to do so, primarily, Elizabeth thought, because of the presence of the Bingley sisters. Jane and Mr. Bingley were seated together again, neither with any attention to spare for anyone else in the room, when Miss Bingley approached Elizabeth and Anne where they were sitting together. Her tone was waspish when she spoke, and Elizabeth was assaulted with the image of a snake, hissing its warning for those unfortunate enough to have crossed its path.

  “Miss de Bourgh!” exclaimed she, though in a voice low and cross. “I thought we had come to an agreement. How could you have betrayed me by bringing Miss Bennet again to my brother’s attention?”

  “What agreement do you call it, Miss Bingley?” asked Anne. Though she asked her question with the razor’s edge of displeasure, Elizabeth could tell that she was, in actuality, diverted.

  Miss Bingley’s lips tightened, and she forced her reply out from between them. “I can see that Miss Eliza has poisoned you against me. I cannot think your lady mother would be happy with your association with the Bennets.”

  “She would be much less happy with my association with you, Miss Bingley.”

  Miss Bingley gasped, but Anne only regarded her placidly. She had not raised her voice, had shown no signs of displeasure, though her reply certainly suggested it.

  “Miss Bingley, let me say that you saw only what you wanted to see. Never did I say that I was willing to throw off the friendship of my dearest companion.”

  “You implied it,” snapped the other woman.

  “You were eager to believe any such implication, and this after I told you quite firmly and openly that I was not about to be swayed. If you believed it, then you must have wished violently for it.”

  Though she clearly wanted to say something further to Anne, Miss Bingley instead chose to focus her vitriol on Elizabeth.

  “I suppose you are feeling rather smug in your success, Eliza. You have turned my brother against me, and you think, no doubt, that you have been successful in ensnaring him for your insipid sister. But I am not beaten yet.”

  “Actually,” replied Elizabeth, “I am quite happy for Jane, for I do not think your brother could find a better wife. Of course, I shall have to counsel her to think carefully before she accepts him—socially, it will be a clear step down for her, as he is the son of a tradesman. She is a gentleman’s daughter, after all.”

  Miss Bingley’s eyes bulged at Elizabeth, and Elizabeth wondered if the woman would suffer an apoplexy right there in Darcy’s house.

  “But love will conquer all, I suppose,” continued Elizabeth. “If Jane loves him—a sentiment I have no doubt is returned—then I will advise her to allow her heart free rein. There is nothing to be prized more in marriage than a meeting of like hearts and minds.”

  “You are a simpleton!” cried Miss Bingley. “I have never heard such drivel.”

  “Clearly your brother does not agree,” said Anne. “In fact, he seems to be quite taken with Jane. And I agree with Elizabeth—I doubt your brother could find a better wife.”

  Miss Bingley swallowed heavily and turned a sickly smile on Anne. “Perhaps you should speak with your cousin. I have it on good authority that Georgiana thinks more highly of my brother than any other man of her acquaintance.”

  Unable to help themselves, Elizabeth and Anne exchanged glances and burst into laughter, drawing more than one pair of eyes to them. Mr. Bingley, in particular, smiled, seeming delighted at how his sister was getting on with them. He could not have been more wrong.

  “You are sorely mistaken, Miss Bingley,” replied Anne. “Georgiana is too young, and she has told me that she enjoys Mr. Bingley’s company for the pleasure he brings to her elder brother. She is not in love with him.�
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  There appeared to be nothing more to say. Miss Bingley excused herself and went to sit by her sister on the bench of the pianoforte. Though Mrs. Hurst continued to play, Miss Bingley whispered her poisonous nothings in her sister’s ear. Elizabeth did not know what they were saying, but she was certain that now that Jane was before Mr. Bingley, they would not be successful in their schemes again.

  It would not be surprising to anyone that Darcy had not anticipated the evening, not knowing what would happen between Miss Bennet and Bingley. Darcy had not been convinced of Miss Bennet’s regard for his friend, regardless of what Anne and Miss Elizabeth had told him. But after seeing them together, he could not help but wonder how he could have missed it.

  “Do not mope, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam by his side. “Just enjoy the spectacle.”

  Darcy turned and glared at his cousin. “Were you also aware of this in advance?”

  “If you mean Anne’s obvious machinations, then no. I also was not aware of the situation between Bingley and Miss Bennet, though I do applaud Anne for her ingenuity. She out-maneuvered Miss Bingley quite spectacularly.”

  There was nothing to say to that, so Darcy did not even make the attempt. What was more surprising to him was how Miss Bingley clearly thought she could influence him to continue to try to separate Bingley from Miss Bennet.

  “Mr. Darcy!” hissed she as she came and stood by him a little later that evening. “I am so distressed at your cousin’s actions this evening. Did you not inform her what a mistake it would be to bring Charles and Miss Bennet together again?”

  “No, I did not, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy, eschewing any mention of how he had not even known of it himself, aware it would only make him appear foolish. “Anne has been acting as my hostess and, as such, may invite whomever she pleases.”

  “She has been listening to Eliza too much. Clearly the girl has filled her ears with nonsense. Having the Bennets as relations? It is not to be borne!”

  Again, Darcy chose not to reply to her assertion. In fact, he chose not to reply at all. He was, after all, intent upon making those same Bennets his relations.

  “I am afraid your assistance is going to be more critical than ever now.”

  “Assistance?” echoed Darcy. “I am afraid I have no notion of what you speak.”

  Darcy had never seen the exasperation in the woman’s glance directed at him. “To separate Charles from Jane Bennet again!” Miss Bingley’s eyes found Miss Elizabeth, and Darcy was certain she was wishing all manner of calamities on her head. “Look at her, sitting there so smugly, assured of her success, not giving any thought to the ruin of my family. How I wish I had never heard the name Bennet!”

  Contrary to Miss Bingley’s assertions, Darcy could see little other than pleasure in Elizabeth’s face as she spoke with animation with Georgiana. She had been a good influence on his dearest sister—Darcy hardly knew how to thank her for bringing Georgiana out of her shell.

  “But with your assistance,” continued Miss Bingley, turning back to Darcy, “this may all be repaired. I will not have Jane Bennet as a sister—every proper feeling rebels against it.”

  “I thought you esteemed Miss Bennet,” said Darcy, knowing it was untrue.

  The woman made a growling sound in her throat. “Jane is, by herself, tolerable. But her family.” Disgust rolled off the woman in waves. “I shall not have it!”

  “If your brother decides he will marry Miss Bennet, you shall have it,” replied Darcy. He was at the end of his patience with this woman.

  Once again Miss Bingley turned her attention to him. “But you can influence him—I am sure of it. He always listens to you.”

  “He did when he was uncertain of Miss Bennet’s regard,” replied Darcy. “Now, I would think no such doubt exists. Furthermore, since I am now convinced of it, I will not say anything against his intentions for her. It was the only reason I agreed with you last time.”

  “But, Mr. Darcy!”

  “No, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy. “I will not do it. My only wish is for Bingley to be happy. He is his own man and may make his own decisions. If Miss Bennet is his choice, I will do nothing but wish him every happiness.”

  Then, certain she was not about to allow the subject to rest, Darcy bowed and moved away. Miss Bingley did not follow him, and for that he was grateful. He had no doubt she would continue to work on her brother, and Darcy, knowing Bingley as he did, had little notion she would be successful. For himself, he was through trying to advise his friend. Not only had he been spectacularly wrong, he knew that Miss Elizabeth wished for her sister’s happiness with Bingley. That was enough for Darcy.

  When the night was late and the guests were soon to depart, it was left to Hurst to sum up the evening and the previous relationship between the two principles. He had watched them with an almost un-Hurst-like amusement, if one was not familiar with the man and his enjoyment of tweaking his sister’s nose. As the night wore on, Darcy began to suspect he would not leave without saying something pointed. In this, Darcy proved to be correct.

  “It is about time, Bingley,” said Hurst in his rumbling voice which, unusually, carried no hint of being intoxicated. “You have been moping over the girl all winter. It is time you married her and spent the rest of your life happy.”

  Though it was clear Bingley was shocked at his brother’s words, he quickly agreed with them. “Thank you, Hurst—I believe I shall take your advice under consideration.”

  Miss Bennet blushed, but the way she looked back at Bingley showed she was not displeased. Anything but, in fact.

  Chapter XXVII

  An expected visitor returned to Darcy house the following morning, and Darcy was not eager to receive him. The previous night at dinner, Bingley had been first surprised by Miss Bennet’s presence, and then his attention fixed on her to the exclusion of all else. But Darcy knew that Bingley would realize by the light of day that Darcy must have some knowledge of Miss Bennet’s presence in town and would wish to know why Darcy had not mentioned it to him.

  And Darcy was correct. The Bingley that strode into his room the following morning had a bounce in his step, a joy in his countenance which had been missing these past months.

  “Darcy!” exclaimed he, seeming more pleased to see him than Darcy would have expected. “It is a lovely day, is it not?”

  While he restrained himself from shaking his head, Darcy was inordinately amused by what he was seeing. He was also feeling more than a little silly—he had thought that Bingley would overcome his infatuation, as he had so many other times with so many other ladies, but it was clear that Darcy was incorrect in this instance. Miss Bennet’s performance from the previous evening, given without any idea that Bingley would be present, had given lie to all Darcy’s opinions. He was grateful to be proven wrong, if the old Bingley was to once again make an appearance.

  “It is, indeed, my friend,” said Darcy, accepting his friend’s proffered hand and gesturing to a pair of chairs to the side of his study.

  “I am very grateful to you and your cousin, Darcy,” said Bingley without preamble. ”I do not know how an invitation including both my family and Miss Bennet’s came about, but I am delighted regardless. I would never have thought that we would meet in London, in your house, of all places.”

  “I had considered it possible,” confessed Darcy. “I had thought you would visit me before last night, and there was a good chance you would discover that Miss Elizabeth is staying here.”

  “Yes,” replied Bingley. “In fact, I would wonder why you did not tell me of Miss Elizabeth’s presence in your house. For that matter, might I assume you knew of Miss Jane Bennet’s residence at her uncle’s house?”

  “I did,” said Darcy. There was no point in obfuscating, and Darcy would not have done it even if he thought there was a chance of success. “The reason I did not tell you was because I was still laboring under the misapprehension that Miss Bennet did not care for you
as a woman should for a suitor. After last night, it is quite apparent that I was wrong, and I apologize unreservedly for leading you astray.”

  Bingley regarded Darcy for several moments before he shrugged. “I do not hold it against you, Darcy. I remember well how you convinced me against returning and your reasons for it. You had not spent nearly so much time in her company as I and could not have seen her regard for yourself. Would that I had placed as much confidence in my own observations as I did in yours!

  “But all has been put to right now, and I could not be happier. I have come today to let you know that I intend to pursue Miss Bennet. I will pay court to her, follow her to Hertfordshire, if necessary, and I intend to marry her.”

  “Then I congratulate you, my friend,” replied Darcy. “I believe you will do well together.”

  Bingley paused and then spoke again, his tone far more sardonic than Darcy had ever heard from his friend before. “Do you know that Caroline does not agree with you? She actually continued to question Miss Bennet’s feelings for me in the face of what I witnessed last night.”

  Darcy was far from surprised, but he did not respond directly to Bingley’s question. “What of Mrs. Hurst? As I recall, she argued against Miss Bennet as vociferously as Miss Bingley.”

  A snort escaped Bingley’s mouth. “And she likely would still, if not for Hurst. You heard Hurst last night—he has decided that I have been ‘mooning after Jane Bennet’ these past months. He further claims it is time for me to be happy, and that she is a ‘damn fine girl.’ I do not know for certain, but I suspect he has forbidden Louisa from attempting to work on me, as she was silent when we discussed it this morning.” Bingley paused and laughed. “Can you imagine it? Caroline actually abjured town hours this morning and rose early, all in an attempt to persuade me.”