When Jane Got Angry

by Victoria Kincaid

“Where have they gone?” he demanded.

  The man blinked. It was a rather impertinent question; Bingley had no right to know the Gardiners’ personal business. “I must see Miss Bennet urgently,” Bingley added. If the footman assumed Bingley bore some dreadful news for Jane, that was not his fault.

  The man’s brows furrowed with concern. “They are attending a ball at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Martin.”

  “Very good. Thank you.” Bingley turned and hurried away. He had declined an invitation to the Martins’ ball when he learned of his aunt’s ill health. Hopefully they would not be offended if he attended after all. Hopefully they also would excuse his less-than-formal clothing. He refused to waste time returning to Darcy House for a change of attire.

  After another carriage ride, Bingley was standing before the steps of Martin House. The building was ablaze with light, and the hum of conversation was audible even from the street. Although it was a bit late for arrivals, a few people streamed up the front steps in elegant gowns and formal evening wear.

  What am I doing here? He was not dressed for such an event, and balls did not tend to lend themselves to frank, intimate conversations such as offers of marriage. Surely the proposal could wait at least a day; he could call upon the Gardiners tomorrow. A man pushed past Bingley in his hurry to climb the stairs. Even from behind, his clothes were obviously in the latest fashion, and he cut a very fine figure. The ball would be filled with dozens of such men, many of whom would notice Jane’s beauty.

  He could not allow that to happen. Bingley hurried up the steps, shouldering past the elegantly dressed young man and pushing into the house. He stopped on the threshold of the ballroom, surveying the scene. Couples crowded the dance floor in the center of the room while a crush of people milled about the periphery. How would he ever find Jane?

  But Bingley had not traveled this far to be deterred now. Taking advantage of his superior height, he pushed and weaved his way through the throng—for once in his life unconcerned about offending others—turning his head back and forth as he searched for a particular set of golden curls.

  Fortunately, it was not long before he spied Jane near the windows overlooking the back garden. Resplendent in a blue silk gown with gold trim, she took Bingley’s breath away. As he had predicted, her hair was dressed in curls, which were woven with matching silk ribbons.

  However, when he saw who spoke with Jane, Bingley suppressed an urge to curse. Caroline had not hinted at any plans to attend a ball that evening, but no doubt she had recognized an opportunity to plant more rumors. Bingley’s hands balled into fists at the thought.

  He weaved through the crowd toward Jane and Caroline, huddled with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Caroline had a false smile fixed on her face, but the others seemed somewhat dismayed by the conversation. What was his sister saying?

  Finally, he was close enough. “Miss Bennet. Mr. Gardiner. Mrs. Gardiner. Caroline,” he called out as he crossed the remaining distance in a few long strides. Caroline seethed upon glimpsing him while the others evinced wary surprise.

  Jane’s smile was far more tentative than he had hoped for. “Mr. Bingley, I understood you had not yet returned to town.”

  He glared at Caroline. “Indeed? I returned this afternoon with my sister.”

  She smirked. “It must have slipped my mind.”

  Deliberately turning away from Caroline, he took Jane’s gloved hand and pressed a kiss to the back. “I am pleased to be back. I missed London very much.”

  She colored becomingly but did not demonstrate exceptional pleasure at his presence.

  It was urgent that he speak with her privately. “Might I claim you for the next dance?”

  “Y-Yes, certainly,” she stammered.

  “Very good!” Bingley’s entire body relaxed. Surely all would be right with the world if he could simply speak with Jane.

  Caroline regarded him sourly. “Do not forget our conversation in the carriage, Charles. You would not want make any impetuous decisions.”

  As he gave his sister a level stare, warmth rushed through Bingley’s body. Ah, there is my anger. Not lost, simply misplaced.

  “I assure you that my every action tonight will be very carefully considered,” he replied. Making Jane an offer was not impetuous; in fact, it was long overdue.

  The Gardiners’ eyes darted from him to Caroline, aware that his words held a hidden meaning. Unfortunately, he was unable to enlighten them.

  Jane was glancing about at the other attendees, drawing Bingley’s attention to the many sets of eyes that regarded them with undisguised curiosity. Several women whispered behind their fans while a number of gentlemen offered Bingley sympathetic looks.

  Drat! They really did believe Caroline’s gossip. Despite his evident enthusiasm for Jane’s company, they persisted in the notion that she had some hold over him. Anger seething through his veins, Bingley wanted to shout the truth at them: “I am in love with this woman and cannot wait to make her my wife.”

  However, he was angry with Caroline, not these bystanders; they did not deserve the brunt of his anger. He wished he could convince them that his affection for Jane was genuine, but it seemed a hopeless task.

  ***

  Jane had nearly declined the opportunity to attend the Martins’ ball. After a fortnight of no word from Mr. Bingley, she had wanted to remain at Gracechurch Street and pack her trunk for the journey to Hertfordshire. Her attendance was a favor to Aunt Gardiner, who was convinced that dancing would improve her spirits.

  Although she had been much in demand as a dance partner, Jane had struggled to display the kind of gaiety and liveliness expected at a ball. Then her encounter with Miss Bingley—who had taken great pains to explain how their aunt considered Jane to be an inappropriate match— had convinced her that she had made a terrible mistake.

  Her first glimpse of Mr. Bingley had nearly caused her to swoon with surprise. She had barely uttered three words to him and could not even muster a smile of welcome. What does his presence mean? Why is he here? Does he still care for me?

  Her heart pounded as Mr. Bingley took her hand and led her into position for the next dance. She should speak, but words had deserted her. The questions she needed to ask could not be spoken in public. “Did you return to town today?” she finally asked, and immediately chastised herself for asking a question he had already answered.

  “Yes.” He paused and then added, “I first visited the Gardiners’ house and discovered you were here.”

  Oh. A pleasant warmth tingled in her stomach. “You hoped to encounter me?”

  He angled his head down, peering directly into her eyes. “I attended for no other reason.”

  Jane felt a little faint.

  They took their places in the line of dancers, and the music commenced. As they were positioned near one end, they waited for their turn to dance. Jane resisted the urge to fiddle with the bows on her dress and tried to focus her attention on her companion.

  Mr. Bingley was behaving a little oddly, stealing glances at her and then hastily averting his eyes. His color was high and beads of perspiration rolled down his cheek, although it was not unusually warm. Was it possible he was ill? Full of concern, she scrutinized him more closely as she asked, “Is your aunt in better health?”

  “Yes, her health is greatly improved.”

  “I am happy to hear it.”

  He nodded and then frowned. “Actually, Miss Bennet, may I own the truth to you?” She nodded, a bit mystified at his confidential tone. “It was a most unpleasant visit. I find that lately I grow weary of always being agreeable just to ensure the comfort of others, particularly when they seem to have no regard for my comfort.” His eyes darted in his sister’s direction.

  Jane’s heart beat faster; she was intimately familiar with that dilemma. How was it possible that another person could so perfectly vocalize her innermost thoughts? “Of late, I have experienced the same sentiment.”

  “We are kindred spirits,” he said, rega
rding her solemnly. “My father instilled in me the importance of caring for my sisters, but I may have taken that responsibility too much to heart. Caring for them does not require surrendering to their every whim.”

  “No.”

  “Particularly not when selecting a wife.”

  Jane did not know how to respond to such a statement, so she said nothing.

  He took one of her hands and squeezed gently. “Oh, Jane, my sister has been spreading the worst kind of rumors about you.”

  Jane let the words sink in. She had no reason to disbelieve Mr. Bingley, but Jane herself would never do such a thing so it was hard to comprehend why another person would. When she glanced uneasily about the room, she saw many people studying them. In fact, she had unexpectedly drawn much attention all evening. Now she noticed that many women were sneering and talking behind their hands as they regarded her.

  Heavens! What had Miss Bingley said about her? Jane could imagine all kinds of terrible rumors that would affect not only her reputation but also her family’s. Her hands shook. She would hate to be the source of injury to her family. Perhaps it would be best return to Longbourn immediately. She disentangled her fingers from Mr. Bingley’s.

  “What has she said?” Jane’s voice sounded thin and wispy.

  Mr. Bingley’s fists clenched. Jane did not believe she had ever seen him quite so angry. Or angry at all. “She has suggested,” he said slowly as if the words were being forced out of him, “that you are attempting to entrap me into marriage. I cannot apologize enough.”

  “You need not apologize. It is not your doing.”

  “You are goodness itself. But I wish I could somehow stanch the flow of rumors.”

  Jane bit her lip, trying to prevent tears from falling. “In such situations, there is little remedy.” She had seen it time and again in Meryton; rumor flew about the town while truth followed slowly—if at all.

  Before Mr. Bingley could reply, they were swept into the whirl of the dance. Dancing lifted Jane’s spirits. Mr. Bingley smiled and made little jokes to provoke her laughter. He always knows precisely how to make me smile. Aside from Lizzy, nobody else understands me so well. Such understanding seemed effortless; they were so alike that she often had no need to explain herself.

  By the end of the set, Jane’s equanimity had been restored, although anxiety over Miss Bingley’s rumors persisted. She stood opposite Mr. Bingley, panting from the exertion, and wished that they could remain in this moment forever—together and happy, without concerns about interference from outsiders.

  Other couples joined hands and drifted back into the crush, but Mr. Bingley did not seem inclined to join them, nor was Jane eager to face the slings and arrows of the ton. Soon only they remained on the dance floor, as the next set had not yet begun to form.

  Jane glanced up at Mr. Bingley shyly, unsure of his intentions. Did he notice how visible they were? Did he mean to dance the next set with her? It would be customary to leave the dance floor and then return. They were attracting attention, something Jane was loath to do now that she knew of Miss Bingley’s machinations. Surrounding attendees were pointing and talking; she heard their names mentioned.

  “Mr. Bingley?” she asked hesitantly.

  His expression was bemused, as if she held the answer to every question he had ever asked in his life. A small smile curved his lips as he took possession of her hand once more. “Jane…”

  She returned the smile tentatively.

  And then he got down on one knee.

  Jane gasped.

  “Jane Bennet, will you do me the very great honor of being my wife?” Still holding her hand, he gazed up into her face with eyes full of hope.

  An excited murmur swept through the crowd. No doubt they had the full attention of everyone in the ballroom.

  Jane swallowed, wishing that her voice would not crack. “Yes, I will, Mr. Bing— Charles. I will be your wife.”

  Charles leapt to his feet and threw his arms around her. Then he was kissing her—in the middle of the ballroom, in plain sight!

  She had a moment to be shocked at his behavior, and then she was drowning in the kiss. Just as before, his lips held the power to make her forget everything else. The world fell away. Nothing remained save his kiss and the sensation of his strong arms holding her against his body. Yes, she thought. Yes, this is how it should be. This is true. This is good. He is the man I should kiss. He is the man I will marry.

  Finally, reluctantly, Charles loosened his hold on her body and gently disengaged his lips. As Jane returned to reality, she noticed gasps of disapproval from the onlookers, smatterings of applause, and a few amused titters. Her face was hot, no doubt a bright red. And no doubt their “improper behavior” would be noted in tomorrow’s papers. But it was difficult to marshal any regrets. She would marry Charles Bingley!

  Chapter Eight

  When the happy couple reached the edge of the crowd, they were greeted by a succession of unhappy relatives. First, Caroline pounced on them. Grabbing Bingley roughly by the arm, she pulled him away from Jane. “What do you think you are about, Charles?” she hissed in a low voice. “I warned you that an engagement would ruin Jane’s good name!”

  Leveling a stare at his sister, Bingley felt an echo of his previous anger, but now it more resembled annoyance. She could do little to hurt them, and he merely wanted to be rid of her. “Do you believe you can convince your cronies that Jane coerced me into proposing on the dance floor in the midst of a ball?” He gave her a smile with no humor in it. “How, pray tell, did she manage to entrap me into such a feat?”

  Caroline’s eyes went wide as she recognized the impetus behind Bingley’s public proposal. “But you—! She—! You cannot—!” she sputtered.

  Bingley narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps you should leave off meddling in my life and consider how to lessen the damage to your reputation.”

  “My reputation? What on earth are you talking about?”

  “You spent weeks telling everyone in the ton that Jane Bennet was scheming to entrap me into marriage, and now I have demonstrated how completely false your story is—a story about your own brother. If I were your friends, I would no longer consider Caroline Bingley to be a reliable source of information.” Bingley’s annoyance faded, and he began to enjoy himself.

  Caroline gasped, opened her mouth to respond, and then—apparently reconsidering—closed it again. Without another word, she turned on her heel and hurried to join a clump of chattering women. Bingley wondered what she would say to convince the women that she was indeed a dependable source of gossip.

  When he sought Jane, he realized they faced another dilemma: Mr. Gardiner was not well pleased. He and his wife were staring tight-lipped at Jane, apparently waiting for Bingley to finish with Caroline. Without a word, the older man herded Bingley and Jane into a relatively deserted corner of the ballroom.

  Then he commenced to glare at Bingley from under bushy gray eyebrows as if hoping to kill with the power of his eyes alone. “Was such a display entirely necessary, young man?” he barked.

  Bingley swallowed. Yes, it was. My sister spread rumors that your niece would coerce me into marrying her. I needed to demonstrate that I made the offer of my free will and that the betrothal makes me deliriously happy.

  But Bingley could utter none of these words. He could not expose his sister to the Gardiners’ censure, much though she might deserve it. “I apologize, sir. It was not my intention to make my feelings for Jane so…public.” He swallowed again. “I was overcome by my ardor.” What a feeble excuse.

  Gardiner snorted. “That is all you have to say for yourself?”

  Mrs. Gardiner put her hand on her husband’s arm. “Edward, it might not be the most conventional offer of marriage, but Mr. Bingley is a respectable young man. There is no harm done. Your brother Bennet will certainly approve the match.”

  “I dare say he will.” Jane insisted on holding Bingley’s hand despite her uncle’s growls.

  Gar
diner jerked his arm from his wife’s grasp. “How do I explain to Bennet that I allowed his daughter to become an object of ridicule? I came out of the card room to find everyone at the ball staring and pointing at my niece!”

  “I do not care!” Jane said firmly.

  “I do not believe anyone is laughing at her,” Mrs. Gardiner said in a low, soothing voice. “Many of the young women—and all of the older women—believed Mr. Bingley’s offer was quite sweet.”

  “Sweet!” Gardiner spat out the word.

  “An offer of marriage may be sweet.” Mrs. Gardiner stepped closer to her husband and looked him in the eye. “You brought me a bouquet of hothouse flowers—which you could ill afford.”

  Bingley had never before witnessed a man of Gardiner’s age turn that particular shade of red. “That was different,” he mumbled to his wife, who regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “You were…I was…we were in private! Private, that is the essential point!”

  Mrs. Gardiner gave her husband a fond smile. “Yes, we have established that the proposal would have been more properly made in private, and Mr. Bingley has apologized for the oversight.”

  The older man let out a long sigh. “Very well,” he growled in Bingley’s general direction. “I will not oppose the engagement.” Bingley felt some of the tension leak out of his body. “But you must ride to Longbourn tomorrow to secure permission from Jane’s father.”

  “Of course.” Such had been Bingley’s plan.

  Gardiner grunted in response and turned to his wife. “I will summon the carriage. We are leaving immediately. I have had enough excitement for the night.”

  “Yes, dear,” his wife responded.

  As he stomped away, Mrs. Gardiner clasped Jane’s free hand and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations, my dear! Do not mind your uncle. By the morning he will be boasting how he found his niece a fine husband.” She winked at them both. “Now, you have a few minutes before the carriage arrives. You may have some matters to discuss.” She walked briskly away.

  Mrs. Gardiner was a perceptive woman. There were many issues left unresolved.