“I hope they will not meet at all. That will do her the most good in excising his memory from her mind. But does not Jane correspond with the sister? She will not be able to help calling.”
“Miss Bingley? She will drop the acquaintance entirely.” Of this, Elizabeth was quite certain.
And meanwhile, they would both be in London. The city was bursting with activity and diversions and delight. Neither she nor Jane would have time to reflect upon Mr. Bingley’s attentions, or Mr. Darcy’s arms.
Despite all of Elizabeth’s promises to her aunt, they had hardly been in London for three days before Jane determined that they ought to call upon Miss Bingley at the Hursts’ house in Grosvenor Street.
“Are you sure, dearest?” Elizabeth asked, as she dutifully tied on her bonnet in the Gardiners’ front hall. “I had thought the this trip would be for amusement only. Will not a reminder of all that has passed between their family and you only dampen your spirits?”
“Lizzy, surely you do not think me such a ninny as all that.” Jane pinched at her cheeks to bring color to them. “I only wish to fulfill my obligations. Miss Bingley did say that she hoped I would come to town in the winter, and that if I did, I should call. She would not like it if I did not keep my word on that front.”
Elizabeth pursed her lips. Miss Bingley did not expect it was possible that Jane would actually show up in London. She doubted very highly either of Mr. Bingley’s sisters truly wanted to renew their acquaintance with Jane.
“Besides,” her sister went on, as they stepped out onto the walk and into their uncle’s carriage. “Mr. Bingley is not with his sisters at present. He is staying with Mr. Darcy. Miss Bingley took great pains to tell me that in her last letter and surmised it was so that he would be able to spend as much time as possible with Miss Darcy. So we would not see him, at any rate.”
She settled herself primly in the carriage, arranging her skirts about her ankles, and looked resolutely out the window. Elizabeth followed her, somewhat astounded.
“Do close your mouth, dear Lizzy,” Jane said, as the carriage pulled away from Cheapside. “You should not like to catch a fly.”
Elizabeth shut her mouth.
“Do you find it so very surprising that I still wish to see Miss Bingley even without the promise of a glimpse at her brother?”
“No,” Elizabeth replied. “I find it surprising you should wish to see her, when she displays such wanton disregard for the feelings of one she calls a friend.”
Jane looked down at her gloved hands, folded primly in her lap. “Do you think me a very great fool?”
“Of course not!”
“You must,” she said, raising her eyes to meet her sister’s, “if you do not believe I am going to this meeting with all the knowledge that her correspondence has made clear. I will need you for strength, dear one, but I must face it for myself and make certain. Perhaps they have been right about us all along, and we are nothing more than simple, trusting country girls. You have always called me too kind. But when before, in our little circle, had I been given reason to believe a person would extend to me all the behaviors of friendship, when they meant only to do me harm? My closest friend all of my life has been my own sister, whom I would trust to the furthest reaches of the Earth.”
Elizabeth did not know quite how to respond to that. “Jane, you are all things good and sweet and—”
“Yes, yes,” said Jane. “I know what you believe. And maybe you have the right of it. Or maybe what you mistook for goodness was in the end nothing more than naiveté, and now I shall pay the price for my trusting ways. If only I could mock and flirt, as you do. If only I could make everything, even the contents of my heart, a joke. But I did believe I was friends with Caroline and Louisa, as you were friends with Charlotte Lucas. I rejoiced in the knowledge that we liked each other so well, much as Miss Bingley rejoices even now in the hopes of getting a sister she likes as well as Miss Darcy. I—” she looked out the window. “I was relieved to think perhaps that I could make friends whom I had not known since she had been in her swaddling clothes, who might choose to love me, and whom I might have even after I had left Longbourn.”
At once, Elizabeth felt the pain she must have caused her sister with her casual barbs against Miss Bingley. It was true that Jane had not Elizabeth’s own liveliness and had always remained closer in the family sphere. In their little town, she had no intimate friendships, as Elizabeth had with Charlotte, and to feel as if she had at last found some friends—and that she might thereafter even make them her sisters, too—must have been a cause of true happiness and excitement.
How strange. Here was Miss Bingley, suspicious that Jane liked her brother only for his fortune and missing entirely that she might value the gentleman in part because he came with two sisters she could also love.
“Oh, Jane,” she said, and reached across the carriage to touch her sister’s hand. “You are too good, even for me.” And certainly too good for Mr. Bingley’s sisters.
“Please do stop saying such things, Lizzy,” Jane replied firmly. “It does neither of us any credit. You are a very good person yourself, you see, and I cannot always be expected to somehow be kinder or more generous than yourself. It gives me so little room in which to move.”
Blinking, Elizabeth sat back against the seat. She had never thought of it that way. But she had always said of Jane that she was too good, too sweet, too perfect, like a confection rather than a person. It could not have been so pleasant to be so idealized, and so confined.
“If it does happen that all you have suspected of Miss Bingley is correct, and she is not my friend and has contrived somehow to convince myself and her brother that our feelings are misguided, I shall, for once, not feel kind at all. You must allow me the ability to do so.”
“Indeed I shall!” Elizabeth said. This time, the smile her sister gave her was real, and the mood inside the carriage much sunnier, all the way to the Hursts’ house.
Chapter 15
Darcy was seated at a desk in Mr. Hurst’s study, reading an admittedly dusty book and thinking he ought to have awaited Bingley’s return from his errand at the club, rather than in this house. They had long ago finished luncheon with his friend’s family, and he had long since lost patience with the parade of morning calls Ms. Hurst and Miss Bingley took in their sitting room. He did not wish to be introduced to every young woman of Mrs. Hurst’s acquaintance.
In this desire he was fortunately joined by Miss Bingley, who no doubt had her own reasons for keeping him away from their female callers, and suggested that he might find some volumes of interest in Mr. Hurst’s library.
He did not. Nor did he entirely understand why Bingley took so long at his tailor’s shop. Closing the book, he sighed and looked out the window onto the bustling street. Perhaps he, too, should join the fashionable set taking advantage of the brisk, sunny afternoon and take a stroll about the square.
An unfamiliar carriage pulled up outside. No livery to boast of. He leaned toward the glass to look, then pulled back immediately when he saw who it was disembarking. None other than Miss Jane Bennet, and following immediately behind her…
Elizabeth.
Darcy did not know which struck him harder—the simple sight of Elizabeth Bennet, in her neatly trimmed bonnet and plain woolen coat, or his reaction to the sight of her. A wave of sentiment washed over him so quickly that for a moment, he was in danger of losing all sense of propriety and self-control. He was torn between wanting to rush out to meet her and a sudden impulse to hide so that he might never see her again.
Never see her again. That had been the plan, had it not? Divide Bingley from Netherfield, from Hertfordshire itself, if it meant getting him away from Jane Bennet. If it meant getting himself away from Elizabeth Bennet before he forgot his duties to his family and his estate and did far, far worse than simply kiss her on a balcony.
He shied away from the glass as they ascended the stairs to the front stoop, as if it were the m
ost natural thing in the world for Bennets to call upon this house. He heard the bell ring, heard the servant answer.
Did Bingley’s sisters even know the Bennets were here in town? Miss Bingley had been assured they never came here and thus would not possibly be able to continue the acquaintance as long as they all left Netherfield.
“This way, if you please,” came the servant’s voice. Darcy waited a moment, then slipped from the study. He stood at the top of the stairs, where the sounds from below echoed up the marble staircase.
The Bennets were presented to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley.
“Jane!” Miss Bingley cried in a tone one almost might mistake for genuine delight. “I am all astonishment. We had not thought it possible that you would come to town this winter.”
“We were invited by our aunt in Gracechurch Street,” replied Miss Bennet.
“Oh, how lovely.”
The servant made as if to close the door to the sitting room, but then stopped, possibly at a motion by his mistress.
“I so wish you had give us notice of your arrival,” Miss Bingley was saying now. “This is such very bad luck. Louisa and I are soon going out ourselves, you see.”
This is when the servant at last closed the door to the sitting-room, and Darcy heard no more. He melted back into the study and pretended to read for several more minutes, until he heard the big front door open and shut again. Presently, there was a knock on the study door, and Miss Bingley entered.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy, you will never guess who just came to call.”
“Miss Jane Bennet and her sister,” he replied.
This gave Miss Bingley a moment’s pause, but she recovered quickly enough. “So you saw them! Yes. I cannot believe it. After all the assurances I received from Jane that they never came to town. What can account for it? I feel most deceived by her.”
A wonder that she felt deceived. “I thought I had heard that you and your sister are headed out?”
“Oh, that.” She waved her hand. “Well, I had to tell her something, did I not? Only imagine if they were still about when Charles returned. We would not be able to avoid renewing the acquaintance then. He would insist upon it, infuriating man!”
Mr. Darcy frowned, feeling for the first time since their departure from Hertfordshire something he might liken to…guilt? Shame? Had it been beneath his dignity as a gentleman to participate in such a ruse? Bingley was a grown man, after all. They should trust him to decide for himself whether or not to renew his acquaintance with the Bennets here in London.
And surely he would be able, here with all the distractions and amusement of town, to put the charms of Jane Bennet in its proper context. She was pretty enough, but nothing that would stand out among their more fashionable acquaintance. Nothing, surely, that would prove any danger.
And the same went for Darcy himself. He had seen Elizabeth again, in her country fashions, out on the street, and was struck once more by the realization that her beauty did not rise above the average young lady’s. It was a wonder he had ever been so tempted by her. Indeed, in all the cold gray reality of London, he could scarce imagine that he once had been.
Though, it would serve him well to avoid the danger entirely and endeavor not to interact with her again. Seeing Elizabeth was one thing. Speaking to her again was quite another. There lay the true peril. As much as the vision of Elizabeth in his arms might distract him now, he had not first been fascinated by her until she opened her mouth to speak.
“I suppose I must return the call, eventually. I wonder if I might contrive to do it without alerting my brother. Oh, do advise me, Mr. Darcy. I cannot think of what course of action to take.”
“You must return the call,” Darcy replied at once. “But it does not follow that your response should come immediately. This is a very busy season, after all, and you have a number of obligations to fulfill.”
“Of course, of course,” she said, drawing closer.
“It may be many days, or even weeks, before you are in that part of town.” Was he telling her, or himself?
“True,” she said, nodding vigorously. “I have so few acquaintances in Cheapside.”
“Now, as to the other matter…” Darcy thought. “As to enlightening your brother as to the lady’s visit to London, I leave it to your conscience. I shall certainly not feel obliged to inform him.”
And risk Bingley insisting they both pay a call upon the Bennet ladies? That way lay disaster.
“No, nor I,” she said immediately. After a moment, she smiled coyly at him. “I do admire your forbearance, Mr. Darcy. I was half-afraid that upon seeing your lady love, you should not have spared a moment, but rather thrown yourself over the balcony to greet her.”
“Depend upon it,” he replied smoothly, “I have more self-control than that.”
But only slightly more.
Jane was very silent, all the long ride back to the Gardiners’ house. Elizabeth sat beside her, feeling very dull. There were many things she could say, if she wanted. She could have exercised her wit upon the gaudy decorations of the Hursts’ townhome, or the ridiculous turban worn by Miss Bingley, or the transparent lies of welcome and good cheer that both women employed upon them during their brief call.
But none would help her sister overcome her foul mood, and each would only serve to remind her how completely she’d been deceived in the matter of the Bingleys’ regard for her.
All of the Bingleys.
When they arrived home, Jane professed that she wasn’t feeling well and retired, and Elizabeth went to find her aunt in the nursery.
“It is as I feared,” she announced to Mrs. Gardiner. “Miss Bingley made no secret of the fact that our visit was unwelcome. She said nothing discourteous of course, but even Jane’s steadfast belief in everyone’s goodness could not be deceived. I am afraid that whatever hope she might have held as to her friend’s regard, this visit has quite depleted.”
“I am sorry to hear this,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “though from what you told me, I am not truly surprised. It is bound to be a disappointment to poor Jane, though I hope we might still soften the blow through amusements during her visit. And perhaps it is best that she learns her friend’s true nature now, so that she might set upon the business of mourning the loss and moving on as swiftly as possible. Only imagine if she had been awaiting a visit from her friend for several weeks.”
“I could not agree more,” said Elizabeth. She had hated being in a room with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, even for a few minutes. It had reminded her too much of her visit to Netherfield, and Mr. Darcy.
He, too, was somewhere in this city, and he probably wished to see her even less than the Bingleys wished to see Jane.
She could not believe she was still thinking of him, after everything.
“My dear aunt,” she said at once, “I do believe nothing shall do as nicely as amusement to distract our darling Jane from her troubles . Is there not a concert or an assembly that we might attend? As delightful as all the little Gardiners are, an evening spent playing with dolls in the nursery cannot compare to a theater play.”
Mrs. Gardiner laughed. “I will do my best, Lizzy. Our acquaintance might not be as given to diversion as your fashionable friends, but this is London. I am sure we can find a play or a poetry reading.”
Good, thought Elizabeth. Diversion was exactly what they all required.
Chapter 16
The social circle to which the Gardiners belonged might not be as fashionable or genteel as Miss Bingley’s, but Elizabeth soon learned that it was one which provided far more interesting conversations than she’d ever had in Hertfordshire. Between the gentleman’s business concerns and the lady’s young children, the Gardiners themselves went out rarely, but they soon managed to make sure that Jane and Elizabeth were introduced to those who might provide them with more invitations than their aunt and uncle could supply.
Chief among these was a lucky encounter with the daughter of their uncle’s friend, who ha
d recently returned to London from the country and set up a house of her own in town. Though her father had been likewise a tradesman, the lady’s dowry of seventy thousand pounds had been enough to attract the attention of an impoverished baronet in Devonshire. Lady Atwood was a plump, fun-loving sort of woman who had, in due course, given her husband a heir and a spare, then left him in the country so as to preserve them from the necessity of providing further fortunes for their descendants.
She kept a tidy, well-appointed house in a more fashionable district in town and had taken a great liking to Jane and Elizabeth when they had met several weeks earlier. Indeed, she had taken both Bennet ladies under her well-feathered wing, and much of their current social whirl was due to her influence. Because of her own tradesman class origins, she was not one to credit too highly a stratified social order, and Elizabeth privately thought Miss Bingley might learn much from her.
“I know well the deprivations one must suffer in a country village,” she had confided to them, during one of their soon-established regular carriage rides through Hyde Park. “I was stuck at my husband’s seat in Devonshire for nearly seven years. You must take every opportunity of enjoying yourselves here, ladies, and perhaps we might even find you husbands in the bargain. Tell me, Miss Elizabeth, do you like a Navy man?”
Naval officers and tradesmen, politicians and scholars, clerks and men of letters moved in and out of dinner parties and concerts at which their lucky new friend Lady Atwood insisted they be regular guests. They attended salons and lectures, met poets and playwrights, and dined alongside families who might count England as their homeland, but had been to America and Africa, India and the South Seas.
After hearing tales of farms in China, Elizabeth realized how much she took for granted in a simple cup of tea. After a discussion on the horrors of the slave trade with an abolitionist, Jane decided to give up sugar in hers.
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