by Leenie Brown
There, she had put voice to her anger. How William could keep Jane from an advantageous match such as Mr. Bingley posed, based on nothing more than mere gossip, Elizabeth could not fathom. For each of the past two evenings, she had subjected herself to poring over society pages with Lydia to make certain there was no mention of Mr. Darcy and secretly hoping that some bit of news about him might appear that would cause some doubt in the mind of her brother. However, the exercise had been for naught. There was nothing in the papers that could be remotely tied to Mr. Darcy – neither good nor bad. And yet, William seemed unrelenting in his position.
Their mother was beside herself with curiosity and had made several pleas to Mr. Bennet to call once again on Mr. Bingley and invite him to dinner. How were her daughters to make fine matches if he would not extend himself for them?
Each time Mrs. Bennet said such a thing, Elizabeth would skewer William with a pointed look to which he would only reply with a raised brow and an expression of being superior in his opinions. It was maddening. Elizabeth wanted to rail at him, but she would not, for she knew if she attempted to sway him in such a fashion in front of their parents, he would find it necessary to make his disapproval of both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley known. As of yet, he had not shared what he knew with their father. Elizabeth knew he had not since she had asked him yesterday morning and again today when she saw him in passing in the upstairs hallway.
“He will relent with time,” Jane said.
“He might,” Elizabeth admitted, although she doubted it to be true, “but how long will that be? Will it be before Mrs. Long presents her daughter to Mr. Bingley? Or before Sir William invites him to dinner so he can meet Charlotte and Maria? We cannot risk such things, for although none can compare to you, how shall he ever know that unless he has spent time with you?”
“I do not like sneaking around.”
“Who would be angry with us for staging a serendipitous meeting with Mr. Bingley on our walk?” Elizabeth asked. “Papa would chuckle, and Mama would be more than pleased to learn of such a scheme. It is only William who does not wish to see you well-matched.”
Jane grasped Elizabeth’s arm before she could lift her spyglass to her eye. “I do not wish to be the cause of a rift between you and William. You have been more than brother and sister. You have been friends. I do not wish to see that end.”
Elizabeth shrugged. The thought pained her heart. She did consider William to be a friend and confidant. They had shared many secrets over the years. Even when he was at school, he had written to her about his friends and their antics – well, at least, some of them. She doubted he had told her everything since he had not mentioned hearing tales about Mr. Darcy. “He is wrong, Jane. I know he is. I asked Papa about the will. The living could not be refused simply because Mr. Darcy did not wish to give it to this person William met. If he will not listen to reason, then it is not you nor I who have caused a division. It is him and his unbending opinion.”
Jane sighed. There was a sad resignation to the sound.
“We can make things right,” Elizabeth assured her. “But to do so, we must talk to Mr. Bingley.”
Those were the words that Jane needed to hear.
Elizabeth lifted her glass and scanned Netherfield’s grounds.
Putting things right was something of which Jane could approve – even if doing so required a bit of subterfuge.
“He is halfway to the stables,” Elizabeth said. “We will know if we are in luck shortly.” She settled against the trunk of the tree and continued to watch the stables to see in which way Mr. Bingley would ride. With any luck, it would be toward the knoll and then to the left just as his route had been on Saturday.
As fortune would have it, Mr. Bingley appeared to be a creature of habit, and Elizabeth and Jane descended the knoll with plenty of time to slow their breathing and look at ease when he saw them.
Elizabeth lifted her hand and waved to him.
“He is not going to stop,” Jane whispered.
“He will,” Elizabeth whispered back as she waved a second time.
Mr. Bingley tipped his hat, and for a moment Elizabeth thought he would just ride on as Jane had said. However, he did not.
“Good morning, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said brightly as he drew near. “We are pleased to see you.” She poked Jane with her elbow.
“Indeed, we are,” Jane added.
“It is a pleasure to see you as well,” Bingley replied.
Elizabeth noted how his eyes moved quickly from her to Jane and remained there. Jane ducked her head and smiled. She could box William’s ears for keeping Jane and Mr. Bingley apart!
“There is a stile just over here,” Elizabeth motioned toward the knoll. “I wish to speak with you.”
Bingley’s eyes shifted back to her. “You wished to speak to me?”
Elizabeth nodded. “About your friend.”
He huffed.
“Please,” Elizabeth entreated. “Is Mr. Darcy well?” she asked cautiously. It seemed as if Mr. Bingley was angry with his friend and the indifferent shrug that accompanied his words suggested she was correct.
“He is, although he has been confined to his room for these two days.”
“Will he be able to leave his room soon?” Jane asked.
Bingley smiled at her. “I believe he will be.”
“Oh, I am glad,” Jane replied.
Bingley swung down from his horse and walked the animal toward the stile where he secured him before crossing to where they stood waiting.
“I must thank you for sending the surgeon so quickly. I have yet to know the area well, although I did venture into Meryton on Saturday.”
“How did you like it?” Jane asked.
“It is a fine town full of the friendliest sorts of people. Sir William has invited us to dine with him once Darcy is able to join us.”
“Sir William is a delight,” Jane said.
“Charlotte – Miss Lucas — is our particular friend,” Elizabeth added as she shared a did-I-not-say-as-much look with Jane.
“But we did not ask you to join us to speak of our friends,” Jane added quickly.
“No, according to Miss Elizabeth, you wished to know about my friend.”
There as a decided note of bitterness in the word friend that caused Elizabeth to raise a brow. “We had hoped that you would call,” she began.
Mr. Bingley’s eyes fluttered, and shock suffused his features. “You did?”
“We did,” Jane answered, again dipping her head and smiling.
“I thought I was not welcome.” His brow was furrowed, and he shook his head slightly as if bewildered.
“I would welcome you.”
Elizabeth wanted to shout and wrap her sister in an embrace for being so brave as to admit such a thing, for Jane was circumspect to a fault at times.
“You would?” Bingley could not contain the smile that spread across his face. “That is very good news.”
“Indeed, it is,” Elizabeth agreed quietly. A match between Jane and Mr. Bingley seemed almost assured if they could only sway William’s opinion.
She waited patiently for a full minute as Mr. Bingley and Jane just looked at each other. Then, after coughing lightly, she said, “About Mr. Darcy.”
“What do you wish to know?” Bingley asked eagerly, extending an arm to each of them.
“Is he betrothed?” Jane asked.
Bingley laughed. “No. Nor does he have much hope of ever becoming betrothed.”
“Why would you say that?” Jane asked in surprise.
“Because he is too adept at offending,” Bingley replied.
“Then he is cruel and cold?” Jane could not hide her horror at such a thought.
“No, no. He is just…” Bingley sought for the word.
“Ill-at-ease?” Elizabeth offered.
“Yes, yes! That is it precisely.” He turned toward her. “I do not think I have ever met someone who has noticed that about my friend.”
/> “Lizzy is very astute,” Jane said.
“I would have to agree,” Bingley replied. “Was there anything else you wished to know about Darcy?”
“Perhaps we could sit down,” Elizabeth suggested.
Bingley agreed that it was a good idea and soon they were seated on the rise of the knoll.
“Our brother has not told me all he has heard about Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth smoothed her skirt over the top of her boots. “However, he has mentioned something about a will not being honoured.”
“So, it was Wickham,” Bingley muttered. He shook his head. “The will was honoured.”
“Then, there was a reason for the living to not be given to this Wickham?” Elizabeth asked.
Bingley nodded. “He refused it, and Darcy paid him three thousand pounds in lieu of the living so that he could study the law. However, Wickham found that such study did not suit him, and when the living fell open, he came looking to claim it.”
“But he had refused it,” Jane said.
“Darcy reminded him of that fact. I am uncertain that Darcy will appreciate my sharing all of this with you, but since you asked.” Bingley stretched out his legs and leaned back on his arms, looking for all the world as if he did not particularly care if Mr. Darcy would be happy with him or not. “Mr. Wickham was not in a favourable state of living at the time and was not pleased to be refused. He abused Darcy most severely and eventually retaliated in the cruelest fashion he could. That, I cannot tell you about other than to say Wickham’s plan was designed to inflict the most pain possible to Darcy.”
Elizabeth leaned toward Bingley. “Mr. Wickham was given three thousand pounds and was then shortly thereafter in need of money?”
Bingley nodded. “I should not likely say this to ladies, and I would not except to answer your question, but his proclivities are expensive.”
“William did say he had played cards with him,” Jane said.
“That is one of his vices,” Bingley agreed. “As I understand it, his mother was a spendthrift, and I imagine he has inherited some of her traits in that area.”
“Will Mr. Darcy be receiving callers soon?” Elizabeth asked, allowing the topic of Mr. Wickham to drop, although she had to admit to herself that she was curious to learn more. However, that was not the point of this discussion. This discussion was to promote her sister and to make it possible for Mr. Bingley to call on Jane without fear of being rejected by any of the men in her family.
Bingley looked at her in surprise. “I could not say with any certainty. May I ask why you wish to know?”
“I owe him an apology. I was demanding. It is a fault I own.”
“He was rude,” Bingley retorted.
“I am not saying he was not,” Elizabeth replied. “I am only saying I was not right. Neither of us was shown to best advantage in that exchange. I should have considered the fact that he was injured more carefully and thought better of his comfort.”
“You were thinking of his comfort. Riding to Netherfield did cause him a great deal of discomfort and swelling as you said it would.”
“I am sorry to be correct,” Elizabeth said, and she meant it. She had sprained an ankle more than once in her formative years as she tried to keep up with an older and larger brother. “However, I did not consider the comfort of his spirit. I would be very thankful if you would tell him of my sorrow in causing him discomfort.”
Bingley smiled. “I suppose that will mean speaking to him.” He shifted his position. “I will admit to being rather put out with him over his actions.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I had thought you were.”
“Did you?”
She nodded. “You did not seem willing to speak about him at first.”
Bingley laughed. “Your sister is correct. You are most astute.”
“Not always,” Elizabeth assured him. “Will you call on us?”
“I do not know if that is wise.”
“Our brother needs to see that you are as amiable as you appear,” Elizabeth argued, “He would never promote any gentleman who was given to vice or who would in any way disrespect his family. Nor would he willingly accept a friend of such a gentleman. Therefore, you must call on us to show him that what he believes about Mr. Darcy cannot be true.”
“And you would like me to call?” he asked Jane.
“Very much,” she replied. This time, her head did not dip, but she did still smile and blush.
“Then I shall,” he rose from the ground and extended a hand to Elizabeth first and then Jane to help them rise. “Today. I shall call today.”
Elizabeth placed a hand on his arm as he turned to take his leave. “If you can think of any way to help us sway our brother’s opinion of your friend…”
“I will give it some thought.”
Elizabeth drew a breath and with her heart racing added, “I…” but then faltered. She was uncertain if she could be a brave as Jane had been. Jane, at least, had some evidence before her that Mr. Bingley would not be opposed to her declaration of interest. Elizabeth had nothing but the harsh words of an injured gentleman to propel her forward, but she knew she must not waiver. Mr. Bingley was looking at her, waiting patiently for her to continue.
“I should like very much for it to be possible for your friend to call at Longbourn, so that I might get to know more about him.” She pushed the words out of her mouth before her brain had a chance to stop her.
Mr. Bingley smiled. “Then, I shall consider even more carefully how to sway your brother’s opinion. And,” he leaned a little bit closer to her and lowered his voice, “Darcy will definitely not approve of my saying this, but he shall be delighted to hear you would welcome him.”
Elizabeth pulled the right corner of her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from smiling too broadly.
“Truly?” Jane’s voice was filled with poorly masked excitement.
“Truly.” Bingley touched his hat and gave a small bow. “Until this afternoon,” he said before turning and walking back to his horse.
Jane waited until he had tipped his hat to them and ridden away before she wrapped her arms around Elizabeth with a little squeal of delight. “Oh, your plan was brilliant!”
“Now it is brilliant? Earlier you did not seem to think it was.”
“I was wrong,” Jane said as they began their journey home. “Mama will be so delighted to have him call.”
Yes, Mrs. Bennet would be pleased to have Mr. Bingley call at Longbourn, but not nearly so much as Jane or Elizabeth. For their happy futures appeared to not be outside the realm of possibilities – despite one foolish and stubborn older brother.
Chapter 11
Darcy descended the grand staircase at Netherfield slowly, one painful step at a time. His ankle was improving but placing weight on it was still difficult. Limping around a room with quick steps on a sore ankle as he had done for the past two days was not so bad as attempting to walk down a flight of stairs.
“Are you going somewhere?” Bingley, still dressed in his riding clothes, leaned against the wall at the bottom of the stairs.
How Darcy wished he could have gone for a ride this morning. He was so dreadfully tired of being confined to the house. He had had his fill of his room. However, to venture out of it meant being tended to by Louisa and Caroline, and Caroline seemed just as determined as ever to attempt to sway his mind in her direction. Riding would mean he would be free of both of Bingley’s sisters, but it also meant his ankle would be jostled more than it should be. He had no desire to repeat having his boot become lodged on his foot due to swelling. Therefore, he had come to a decision. He was going…
“Home,” Darcy replied.
“To town or Pemberley?”
“Town. I should l like to see my sister.”
Bingley nodded. “Will you, at least, have tea with me before you leave?”
“Not unless you wish it.” The man had not visited him in two days, and it was obvious from his expression that he was still not happy with
Darcy. There was no way Darcy was going to impose on his friend if he was not welcome to do so.
“I do,” Bingley replied, a small smile tipping his lips, giving away the fact that he was not as put out with Darcy as he pretended. “I do not wish for you to leave.”
Darcy blew out a breath as he completed his journey to the bottom of the staircase and lowered himself onto the second step to rest his ankle before he proceeded any further.
“It still hurts?” Bingley nodded to Darcy’s foot.
Darcy nodded. “It is not so strong as I would like it to be. I think it best to have my physician look at it when I am in town. Now that swelling has receded somewhat, he may see something that was missed before.”
“You are determined to leave then?”
Again, Darcy nodded. “My remaining will only hinder any chance you have of securing Miss Bennet.” He looked up at Bingley. “I did not do you harm intentionally, and I apologize for my temper.”
Bingley extended a hand to Darcy. “Come. Have tea with me. I would like to speak with you.”
Darcy looked at Bingley warily. “You would?” He allowed Bingley to help him rise from where he was seated.
“I would.” He took Darcy by the arm. “Lean on me if you need to.”
“Thank you,” Darcy replied and did just that. He leaned his weight partially on his friend as they moved down the hall to a small withdrawing room behind the larger sitting room.
“Caroline does not like this room,” Bingley whispered. “So, I have made it my own. It has only one smallish window and is therefore too dark for her liking. However, I do not mind the lack of sunshine so very much, especially if it brings with it a lack of sisters. I was about to eat some breakfast in here where it is free of female complaints when I was informed that your coach was being readied for travel.” He locked the door behind him. “I want to make certain my sister does not interrupt me for I would like to eat in peace,” he explained.
Bingley seated himself at a small round table that stood with four chairs near the window at the far end of the narrow room. There was a grouping of three cushioned chairs near the hearth and a ladder-backed chair near the door next to a cabinet which held a decanter and glasses. On the wall across from the fireplace, was a low bookcase with glass doors. Those pieces of furniture and a few paintings were the extents of the décor in the room. It was a very pleasant room. With the lamp lit, Darcy imagined this would be an excellent place to while away some hours with a book.
