Mr Bingley’s Bride
A Sequel to Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice by
Catherine Bilson
Contents
Title page
Copyright Notice
Introduction
To Touch An Angel
Laying Down The Law
The Wedding
It Is No Duty
Morning Joy
Caroline Makes Mischief
Bliss, Interrupted
Confrontation
Mutual Support
The Countess
Lizzie
Departure
Always, Mr Bingley
About The Author
Copyright Notice
Copyright © 2017 by Catherine Bilson
Ebook Edition
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Introduction
Mr Bingley’s Bride
Being, A Tale of Miss Jane Bennet and Mr Charles Bingley
I’ve always liked Jane best. She bore her misery with fortitude and grace, she spoke no ill of anyone, even those who most certainly did her wrong. She’s always been seen as the quiet, boring one, and in my opinion sadly neglected by English teachers and victimised at the pen of fanfic writers. But she was no fool, and I’d like to think that Charles Bingley discovered he’d married a woman with hidden depths.
Catherine Bilson, 2017
To Touch An Angel
Jane was quite sure that her cheeks couldn't possibly get any redder. Her one consolation was that her dearest Lizzy sat beside her, companion in her suffering with her hand clasping Jane’s tight, her face equally scarlet with mortification.
“And I tell you, my dears,” Mama shrilled, waving her hands excitedly, “the first time at least will be quite painful and really very unpleasant. You must merely lie very still and hope that it will be over quickly. With time things become easier, but it is always best, I say, to encourage your husband not to indulge in strong drink if you suspect he might wish to come to your bed, for that will only prolong the experience!”
“I do not think that Mr Darcy cares for strong drink,” Lizzy was brave enough to venture after a few moments in which Mama seemed to be gathering her thoughts.
“Then you must be grateful for it! And another thing, do not permit your husband to come to your bed often! Men appreciate much more what they do not get regularly!”
Jane tried not to sigh. Mama was repeating herself now. Dear God, please let this embarrassing, awful discussion – harangue, rather – be over soon. Her wedding on the morrow was something to which Jane had rather been looking forward, until this moment. But now a tight knot of fearful trepidation twisted in her stomach. She gripped Elizabeth’s hand tighter, and was comforted a little by the squeeze Lizzy offered in return.
“Mama! Mama!” It was Kitty’s voice, and Jane let out a small sigh of relief as her younger sister barged into the room. ““You must come! Cook says that the three brace of pheasant you ordered are too high and you must decide what she shall cook instead!”
“Oh, that foolish gamekeeper!” Mrs Bennet stormed from the room and Jane released a larger sigh, along with Elizabeth’s hand.
“Thank God that is over!” Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “I am determined that she shall not catch me like that again! How perfectly dreadful!” Turning about, she caught Jane’s eye. “Why, Jane, you are as white as a sheet. Do not heed Mama, you know how she exaggerates.”
“Lydia said that it hurt the first time too,” Jane said rather miserably. “You know I cannot bear pain, Lizzy!”
“Oh, Jane, Lydia was sharing her marriage bed with Wickham, an inconsiderate cad if ever there was one! Aunt Gardiner told me quite different, that if you love your husband and he you, that you need only caution him to be gentle and it may all be quite pleasant, even the first time.”
Jane nibbled on her lower lip. “Of course I do love Mr Bingley,” she murmured. Elizabeth only rolled her eyes expressively.
“And he loves you to perfect distraction.” Eyeing Jane’s face, Elizabeth paused, and then enquired “He has kissed you, has he not?”
“Lizzy!” Jane’s face flamed. “Of course not!”
“Really?”
“Have you been letting Mr Darcy kiss you?” Jane was quite shocked.
“Once or twice,” Lizzy admitted it quite unrepentantly. “It is very pleasant, to be kissed. Jane, I really do think you ought to let Bingley kiss you at least once before the wedding.”
“You mean, on the mouth, do you not?” Jane asked hesitantly. “He has kissed my hand quite a few times now, and once he was very forward, he turned my hand over and kissed my palm, when no one could see...”
“Yes, Jane, on the mouth,” Lizzy rolled her eyes again. “This afternoon, when he comes to visit with Will.”
Jane still could not get over the fact that Elizabeth called the stern Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy Will, in such a casual and smiling way, even to his face. Nor could she believe the expression that always came over Darcy’s face when she did, a shockingly intimate stare that made Jane quite sure that he had forgotten there was any other person in the world but Elizabeth. Jane was barely used to thinking of Mr Bingley as Charles in the privacy of her own mind, and certainly she had never dared to speak his Christian name aloud to his face.
“Jane, you must let him kiss you,” Elizabeth interrupted her thoughts. “I will suggest that we all go for a walk in the gardens. Take Bingley into the ramble, you can easily go out of sight of the house there, and I promise that Will and I shall not interrupt.” She smirked a little. “I can keep Will busy.”
Jane’s cheeks flamed again at the implication, but she was not truly shocked. Elizabeth was so much braver, so much more confident than she. It was perhaps no surprise that she had dared to experiment with Darcy’s kisses, though Jane was very confident that Elizabeth had allowed their intimacy to go no further than that.
Elizabeth, taking Jane’s silence for acquiescence and desperate to avoid her mother saying anything embarrassing to Darcy this afternoon, suggested the walk as soon as was polite, barely allowing the men time to make their courtesies, and neatly disposing of Mary and Kitty by claiming that she was sure their bridesmaid’s dresses might benefit from another riband or two, under Mrs Bennet’s supervision. Kitty was most certainly amenable – in her opinion, the dress Lizzy and Jane had asked her to wear was abominably plain – but Mary’s protestations were such that Mrs Bennet’s attentions were fully engaged.
Jane could not help but notice how dashing Mr Bingley looked that fine afternoon. His curly fair hair gleamed under the afternoon sun: he chose to leave his hat off as he offered her his arm and led her out through Longbourn’s front entrance. He was a good deal taller than she; Jane had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes as he asked her where she would like to walk.
“Perhaps into the ramble?” Jane said shyly. “I do not care to walk far today. It is hot and I do not wish to become tired. I –– I am quite nervous, I own, and I fear I will not sleep well tonight.”
For a
few moments, Charles did not speak, merely watching as Darcy and Elizabeth turned away and walked down the lane. He led Jane under the rose arch at the entrance to the ramble. “You are nervous, Jane?”
“Well, I suppose I am, a little,” she cast a peek up at him under the brim of her bonnet. “It is, after all, not every day that a girl is to be married.”” When he did not speak for a moment, she asked in a small voice: “Are you not nervous too... Charles?”
He startled, obviously as aware as she that it was the first time she had ever dared to address him by his given name. “I own I am not nervous at all,” he said finally, drawing to a stop beside the giant beech tree near the centre of the ramble. The tree was so old and massive that the five Bennet sisters together, standing fingertip to fingertip, had just been able to reach all around it. With the tree between them and the house, Jane was suddenly acutely aware that she and Charles were very much alone. “I am, though, quite excited.”
“Oh,” Jane gulped as Charles put a gentle finger beneath her chin and lifted her face so that she must look at him.
“I have loved you and wanted you for my own since the moment I first laid eyes upon you,” Charles said, his blue eyes fixed upon her face. “I could not be happier that the day is finally upon us, but Jane, my sweet angel – I do not want you to be nervous.”
She could not speak. There seemed to be a lump the size of her fist blocking her throat.
“Don’t be afraid of me, Jane,” he said, his voice deeper and softer than she had ever heard it, and then he was leaning down, tilting his head to avoid bumping it on the brim of her bonnet, his warm, soft lips brushing hers for a brief instant.
“Was that it?” Jane blurted out a moment later, and then clapped a hand to her mouth in horror at her own forwardness.
Fortunately, Charles laughed. “Your first kiss a little disappointing, my dearest love? I didn’t want to frighten you – but pray allow me to make amends.”” Gently he plucked her hand from her mouth, and replaced it with his lips.
The second kiss was much more satisfying. And much more dangerous, Jane dimly registered, little thrills of pleasure coursing up and down her body as Charles drew her gently into his arms and kissed her most thoroughly. His tongue even parted her lips and gently caressed her mouth. For a moment her hands fluttered uncertainly, and then she settled them cautiously on his shoulders, feeling with pleasure strong muscles shifting as his arms tightened around her waist.
Charles’ breathing was ragged when he finally ended the kiss. “Oh Jane, my own, my sweet angel,” he pressed his cheek to hers, his arms still holding her close. ““Don’t be angry with me.”
“Angry with you?” Jane could hardly find her voice. “Why should I be angry with you?”
He laughed then, and moved back a little, taking her small hands in his large, strong ones. “I thought that perhaps my kisses were a little too, enthusiastic.”
“Oh!” Scarlet-cheeked, Jane cast her eyes down, and then she peeked up at him through long lashes and whispered; “I liked it.”” To her absolute astonishment she was then the recipient of a look as heated as any she had ever seen Darcy give Elizabeth. Charles’ eyes hooded and darkened, and he draw in a sharp breath.
“Don’t fear the morrow, Jane,” Charles said after a moment, when he regained control over his voice. “I know not what nonsense your mother has filled your head with, but I would beg that you only trust in me. I love you and I swear I will never hurt you.”
Jane flushed prettily and cast her eyes down again, but she tucked her little hand into the crook of his arm and almost leaned against him. Charles battled down the fierce arousal he had felt in her presence since the very first moment, cursing both the current fashion for tight breeches and high-waisted coats and Jane’s propensity for looking down shyly. He only hoped that she was innocent enough not to realise how aroused he was. She had no brothers, which was a great comfort to him at that moment!
Charles admired Jane unabashedly as she walked beside him. God, but she was beautiful: quite the most handsome woman he had ever met. No Diamond of the Ton could hold a candle to her in his estimation. Her blonde hair was the colour of ripe wheat, softly curling around her beautiful cheeks. He longed to see it down, wondering how long it was; at least halfway down her back, he suspected from the thickness of the coils at her nape, maybe more.
Jane peeked shyly up at him once more and began, as was her wont, to politely fill in the silence. She was so sweet, so gracious in all things; she even put up with his impossible snob of a sister with not a hint of annoyance. Charles lost himself in her eyes, a shade he could not quite describe, somewhere between blue and green, a light aqua that he had never seen on anyone else. Such pretty eyes, and there was no featherbrain behind them, he was sure, for he had heard her converse knowledgeably on many subjects. Not that she ever started intellectual conversations, she was too shy for that, but she always listened intently and if pressed to respond would say something that clearly indicated a comprehension of the subject.
Charles knew that both Jane and Elizabeth often availed themselves of their father’s library as the only place of respite in Longbourn from their mother and sisters’ nonsense, but it was evident to him that they did not waste their time with novels. Jane had indeed responded to a subtle put-down from Caroline, when Caroline had spouted off a few words in Italian, Jane had responded in far more fluent terms and a perfect accent. When he asked her about it later, she had murmured something about a small gift for languages.
No, Jane Bennet was no dumb blonde, unlike her idiotic youngest sister and her silly, fluttering mother. The other two sisters Charles reckoned salvageable: Mary was bright enough if not too pretty, and Catherine was pretty if not all that bright. She was at least bright enough to recognise that modelling her behaviour after that of her older sisters was by far the wisest course left to her after Lydia’s reckless madness. Darcy had even murmured something about having his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam introduced to Kitty at the wedding, though Charles suspected that was just Darcy having a joke on his cousin, for the colonel unfortunately needed to marry well.
Thank God Charles was in the fortunate position of being able to choose his own bride, with no powerful relations to disapprove his choice! Caroline was bad enough, with her barbed comments and sideways glances. At least Louisa was no longer aiding and abetting her, since Charles’ not at all subtle hint to Mr Hurst that perhaps he and his wife would feel more comfortable in Town if Louisa found local society so unbearable. Forced with the prospect of having to live within his own meagre means, Hurst had called Louisa sharply to heel and she had not so much as said boo to a goose since.
Caroline, though, he would have to make mind, Charles knew, and before the wedding. He would not have his Jane made uncomfortable for so much as a moment once she was mistress of Netherfield, and he well knew that Caroline would hand over her duties as mistress of his household both grudgingly and with maximum condescension. No, he would not subject Jane to that. Tonight he would steel himself for an undoubtedly uncomfortable, but entirely necessary, private conversation with his sister.
Voices from the lane reminded Charles that Darcy would be returning with Elizabeth. They were not staying to dine with the Bennets tonight – Darcy had said bluntly that tonight was as unbearable as Mrs Bennet was likely to get and begged Charles quite unashamedly to spare him that.
“Darcy and Elizabeth are returning,” he said softly to Jane, who seemed to have fallen into a dreamy kind of reverie. She startled slightly, looked up at him, and blushed, seeming to focus on his lips. Charles could not help but smile, wondering if she had been recollecting that spectacular kiss, and then he just had to bend his head and quickly snatch another.
And so it was that Jane was scarlet-cheeked and giggling as Elizabeth entered under the rose arch and saw her. Elizabeth laughed herself and came to take her favourite sister’s arm.
“Why, Mr Bingley, I dare not ask what you have said to Jane to make he
r blush so!” she said archly.
“I have not said anything,” Charles protested with absolute innocence, which truthful remark only made Jane blush harder and Lizzy begin to snicker behind her hand.
Charles took his leave of Jane in the drawing-room, with a regretful kiss to her hand and a hidden caress on the inside of her wrist that made her blush again, though she met his eyes with a surprisingly bold stare. He could only think that tomorrow could not possibly come soon enough as he and Darcy departed.
Laying Down The Law
Collecting their horses, Bingley and Darcy set off back to Netherfield at a leisurely pace, neither of them in any hurry to leave behind pleasant memories of the afternoon.
“Miss Bennet looked well today,” Darcy said politely after a little while, and Charles smiled. Elizabeth was certainly having a good effect on Darcy: previously he had never felt the need to politely start a conversation.
“She is well,” Charles said. “She had some little nerves about tomorrow but I made an effort to reassure her.”
“Naturally,” Darcy said with a slight smile. “Mrs Bennet has been filling their heads with nonsense, I am sure: Lizzy seemed suddenly to have some small reservations that I needed to overcome.”
“It must be unnerving for a young lady, on the eve of their wedding,” Charles said reflectively. “Girls are kept so sheltered, so unaware of men; society requires purity in mind as well as body, does it not? And then suddenly, without foreknowledge, they are expected to surrender all in an act so intimate even their mothers cannot seem to bring themselves to discuss it rationally!”
Darcy grinned slightly, and then frowned, no doubt thinking of his sister.
“Though Georgiana is fortunate, Darce: when the time comes she will have Elizabeth to explain things to her, and I do not think Elizabeth will be so missish as to frighten her.”
Mr Bingley's Bride (Sensual Historical Romance) Page 1
