A Dishonorable Offer

by Timothy Underwood

  Jane breathed a little heavily as Elizabeth pulled her quickly along the mile of road to Longbourn. It was impossible not to smile. “I do not believe that Scripture was intended to encourage us to beg pretty clothes off our neighbors.”

  “Nonsense. Of course it was.”

  Elizabeth grinned at her, enthusiasm lighting her eyes.

  Jane pulled them both to a stop and leaned against a wooden fence. She took a moment to catch her breath. The railing enclosed a small herd of spotted cows. “No. Lizzy, we won’t.”

  “Jane?”

  “It is pointless. He shall hear about Lydia and then never speak to any of us. You know that is what shall happen. Even without Lydia, wealthy gentlemen do not marry penniless girls.”

  “They do too. There are far too many complaints about foolish youths being led astray by adventuresses in the press for it to never happen. And since Mr. Bingley shall inevitably marry a penniless girl, he’ll be happiest if it is you.”

  “And Lydia?”

  Elizabeth pursed her lips into an angry scowl. “I’m becoming quite radical. I don’t think Lydia did so wrongly — I’ve been to see her on my walks, and she and Mr. Brown like each other very much.” Elizabeth blushed. “Very much. She is happy, and she has some promise of remaining happy. Her marriage is less foolish than at least half the respectable marriages. And her situation is not impoverished; Mr. Brown’s shop is always busy, and he has two acres of freehold. They have enough money to keep a maid, and Lydia enjoys housework now that it is for her and her husband.”

  “You may accept our sister, but Mr. Bingley will not. And even if he could, his friends and family never would. I am not going to throw myself at an impossible dream.”

  “We must try. Perhaps you won’t like Mr. Bingley — all we know about him so far is that he keeps a fine seat and likes your appearance. If he sniffs and sneers and turns away, then we know he isn’t good enough for you. But there will be someone. You cannot let yourself be too frightened to try.”

  Elizabeth grabbed her arm again and marched them down the road.

  It was not impossible. Perhaps…providence, fate, fortune — something — would favor her this time. Maybe… Mr. Bingley had looked at her with so much friendliness and attraction.

  She had always acted as she was supposed to. She never acted indecently or cruelly or selfishly. Surely that would mean something, even if her neighbors still despised her for her poverty and what Lydia had done.

  They walked onto the still familiar grounds of Longbourn.

  Neither Mr. Collins nor his father had greatly changed the area around the house from what it had been when Mr. Bennet owned the land, and Jane had been a happy girl. The same area was a lawn, though it was not kept as finely mowed. That grove of trees was the same, just a little older. The red brick façade was the same with a pair of marble columns on each side of the white front door. Two rows of neat latticed windows.

  On the opposite side, looking out from Mr. Collins’s study, the gardens had been substantially expanded as the garden was his hobby, the way books had been her father’s.

  Charlotte rose in greeting and embraced Elizabeth and then Jane once they were brought to the drawing room. Mary got up from where she practiced the piano with young master William and with a little more formality greeted her sisters. Mary had come to serve as half nanny and half governess for Charlotte’s children, and with her fondness for accomplishments and serious reading, she was well-suited for the role.

  Once her sister had been a daughter of this house and not almost a servant.

  Charlotte asked, “What brings you both? It must be something particular.”

  “We saw Mr. Bingley ride through town this morning.” Elizabeth grinned brightly at Charlotte.

  Charlotte nodded with exaggerated understanding. “He is a fine looking man. Very fine. I told you so.”

  “You did. He caught Jane’s eyes — it was quite improper — they stared at each other for at least a full minute. Right on the street, where anyone could have seen them.” Elizabeth clucked her tongue. “The indecency of young people these days. I would never have imagined Jane—”

  Jane pushed Elizabeth to stop her. Charlotte smiled widely; Mary had that little frown which always suggested that she disapproved. “It was not nearly that long.” Jane blushed; it had seemed very long in her memory. “Right? Pray tell me it was not.”

  Charlotte and Elizabeth laughed. Elizabeth said, “No fear — you did not make much of a spectacle of yourself.”

  “I understand.” Charlotte spoke decisively, “A propitious beginning, and we must make sure Jane is dressed as well as possible at the assembly.”

  Elizabeth exclaimed enthusiastically, “You do understand. And while your father promised to make the introduction, if he is elsewhere, I shall depend upon you.”

  “Surely you do not think—” Jane swallowed and looked at Charlotte. Jane didn’t want to feel a false hope. “He will not wish to even dance with me once he knows about Lydia.”

  “Well…” Their friend rubbed her thumb along her jaw line.

  “Charlotte!”

  At Elizabeth’s snap, Charlotte lowered her hand and said with false confidence that did not reach her eyes, “Of course he will. Besides…he likes your appearance. We will arrive early and stay near the entrance. I will be able to introduce you immediately, and he will certainly seek to dance with you. You will have a chance to make his acquaintance before he knows about Lydia.”

  “And that will be the end of it. Even Harriet does not want to be seen with me anymore.”

  Charlotte nervously rubbed her thumb under her jaw again. “I never liked Miss Gould much. Empty headed hussy.”

  Jane should defend her friend. She should say that she understood and accepted Harriet. The Jane she had been even just a year ago would have.

  Mary defended Miss Gould for her. “Reputation is a delicate thing. A woman must guard it like she would guard the most delicate china.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes and said to Charlotte, “We must try.”

  Charlotte pounded her fist against her palm. “Exactly! While there is hope one must always try.” She added contemplatively, “I never thought I would marry so well, I was almost four and twenty, you recall, and becoming quite worried I would end an old maid when Mr. Collins returned from university after his father’s death. Jane, it is possible that you might yet marry even better than I did.”

  Mama barely spoke to Charlotte, as she blamed her for stealing Mr. Collins. Perhaps Jane should have tried to attach Mr. Collins to herself. But they still had money then, and Jane had not liked his looks or manners. But he was a decent and kind man. He would have been better than Mr. Thomas.

  Jane felt such a mixed happiness and guilt that she hadn’t had the opportunity to marry Mr. Thomas. Elizabeth would have been so angry when she accepted him.

  Charlotte was happy. If Jane had pursued Mr. Collins all those years ago, she could have been happy instead.

  Maybe Mr. Bingley would fall in love with her, and he would be everything she imagined he was when their eyes met. Even Charlotte thought there was hope. Elizabeth and Charlotte chatted about which dress of Charlotte’s to alter, and what they would do with it. Charlotte demanded that Elizabeth also borrow a dress, after all Bingley was bringing a wealthy friend. Elizabeth halfheartedly refused the offer, but they all knew in the end she would agree.

  Jane felt a little hope. Mr. Bingley’s eyes had been very warm.

  Chapter 5

  Balls were always delightful. Elizabeth would never let herself have a different opinion. Even if she now lived on the edge of the local society, instead of the center, she loved balls.

  When she entered the Meryton ballroom dressed in her borrowed finery, Elizabeth felt like she had gone back in time to when she was one of the sparkling young ornaments of the community.

  The cheery lights of the candles blazed brightly, the orchestra stood in the stand practicing and tuning inst
ruments in preparation, and there was a swirl of her neighbors in their best gowns, many wearing fabulous intricate arrangements of their hair. Elizabeth slipped out of her boots and hung them up on the racks and pulled on her dancing slippers. The thin soles allowed her toes to nearly feel the wooden floor.

  She looked especially pretty tonight, though of course Jane was more beautiful. A gentleman approached Elizabeth and gained her promise for the first dance of the night. Soon Jane was engaged for several sets as well, and Elizabeth became worried. Mr. Bingley and his party had not yet arrived, and if they took too long Jane’s card would fill. She often had no opportunity to sit during a night.

  The couples lined up for the first dance, and the band waited silently for the order to begin. Charlotte and Mr. Collins went to the head of the line, having priority as Longbourn was the greatest estate besides the Netherfield in the neighborhood. Elizabeth and Jane were led by their partners to near the middle of the line, and with a signal from Charlotte the band began.

  Elizabeth loved her chance to dance, even though her partner was not skilled at the art. That did not bother. At least not much. She kept part of her attention cocked towards the entryway, waiting for Mr. Bingley to arrive.

  At last!

  The first dance was almost complete when all of the ladies stopped dancing and turned to look at the new entrants. Mr. Bingley appeared as he had before: handsome with curly brown hair and a look that promised easy good manners. One of his companions was very tall, with a perfect regularity of features. He had an unfortunately solemn expression on his face, but if he ever smiled he would look very handsome indeed. Elizabeth glanced at Jane; she stared at Mr. Bingley as Charlotte brought her forward from out of the dance to meet their new neighbors.

  Excellent, she could guiltlessly ogle the tall gentleman. He was very tall, and had a neatly tailored coat that displayed his lean figure to perfection.

  The two ladies had a look of fine fashionable disdain, and Elizabeth instantly knew they would never befriend the disgraced Bennet sisters. A short balding gentleman with a rotund figure with a florid face hung about the older looking sister.

  Charlotte and Mr. Collins greeted the newcomers, and Jane was right behind them. After the first exchange of words, Charlotte introduced Jane to Mr. Bingley who was watching her closely.

  Bingley eagerly took Jane’s hand to kiss in the introduction, and the two smiled brightly at each other. Bingley led Jane to the line for the next dance, while with a bow, and a sudden perfect smile his tall friend asked Charlotte for the next dance.

  Elizabeth was left to sit out the second dance, which did not frustrate her nearly as much as usual, since she could study how Bingley treated her sister. She leaned forward on the hard wooden seat of one of the chairs and watched the couple from the edge of her eyes.

  Jane’s wide smile glowed, and her cheeks were pink. Bingley kept his eyes on her, and regularly glanced at Jane’s figure. They repeatedly stared into each other’s eyes, and Mr. Bingley’s color went higher over the course of the dance. They both smiled. The way they stepped through the figures complimented each other perfectly.

  Jane’s luck had finally turned. Deep down Elizabeth was certain.

  Occasionally Elizabeth’s eye was caught by the other handsome stranger. He was a fine dancer who managed the steps with a fine grace and elegance. He talked to Charlotte easily and had this way of smiling that brought out both dimples. Charlotte laughed and seemed to enjoy her dance a great deal. She had been right that he would look very well when smiling.

  More of Elizabeth’s attention stayed on Jane and Bingley.

  When the dance was over Elizabeth was asked to stand up for the next, and hence could not observe if Bingley showed Jane any further attention. Bingley asked Miss King to dance the following, while his tall friend danced with Miss Gould.

  Elizabeth rather disliked that, since after how she treated Jane, Elizabeth did not want to see Harriet Gould ever enjoy any good fortune, and dancing with the tall richly dressed stranger unambiguously was good fortune.

  After the dance Elizabeth said to Charlotte while they both sipped at the weak punch for a few minutes, “A promising start for Jane and Mr. Bingley’s association. I watched their entire dance closely.”

  “Yes, they make a quite perfect pair.”

  “I am certain nothing can go wrong for Jane.”

  Charlotte nodded, though Elizabeth could see that her friend thought it far more likely than not that Mr. Bingley soon would have nothing more to do with Jane, but Elizabeth would not permit such thoughts before necessary.

  “Bingley’s tall friend, you enjoyed your dance.”

  “Mr. Darcy." Charlotte laughed and flapped her fan in front of her face. “He is a shameless flirt, but beneath that he is a clever man. That smile…it is quite the most charming I have ever seen…those dimples, and he quoted very charming poetry. I’d not known I could enjoy being described in Latin, though I have no idea what he actually said. But it sounded charming. You must meet him. You would like him extremely well.”

  “So he is a scholarly sort?”

  “He convinced me he is a universal man, capable in all arenas. Now I doubt very much that is the truth of the matter, but…” Charlotte shrugged and smiled.

  Elizabeth laughed. “Am I to believe that his principal characteristic is that of a braggart?”

  “Nay — methinks he has no need to brag, for every woman he meets will do so for him." Charlotte laughed. “I hardly know what to think of him. I do hope I have an opportunity to see you two introduced, so I might receive your judgment of him."

  Over the next hours, both Mr. Bingley and Jane were occupied during each set. They did, however, a few times talk to each other for a minute or two. Near the middle of the evening, Mr. Bingley saw Jane standing to the side and walked towards her. However, Bingley’s younger sister grabbed his arm to talk with her brother before he could approach Jane.

  By chance Elizabeth stood quite near, ladling punch out of the bowl into her cup, so she overheard the conversation. Miss Bingley wore an orange dress and too much rouge for her complexion. She said to her brother, “That girl — the yellow haired girl you danced with first—”

  “Miss Bennet? She may be the loveliest creature my eyes have ever fallen upon. And her temperament is so sweet, and she showed such natural delicacy. I’ve never spent a half hour standing up at a dance so pleasantly. I wish to ask her again, if she has any space left on her card.”

  Jane deserved his praise and more. Elizabeth’s chest glowed at overhearing Bingley’s words. He would ignore all the social pressure that demanded he stay away from Jane — everything in his manner showed unaffected good nature. He would prove to be the best sort of gentleman.

  “Charles!” Miss Bingley’s interruption was a harsh jab. “Forget her — I have asked after her connections. She is — heavens! Mrs. Collins never should have forced the introduction upon us. She is completely penniless and her sister is married to the blacksmith in the village next to Netherfield. The blacksmith! She may be pretty, but to associate with the sister of a menial."

  “What! I had no notion — her behavior was most genteel."

  “The Bennets used to be gentry, but her mother wasted all of the slender fortune they had after the death of their father. Mrs. Collins likely felt sorry for her and showed that low country village cunning by hoping to bring the cousin of her husband into a better status. They must hope to find some fool to marry her for her beauty and thought you would make a splendid fool. The only way Miss Bennet could afford such a dress is if she borrowed it special to appeal to you and Mr. Darcy."

  Bingley sighed and he pulled at the edge of his sleeve.

  Elizabeth’s hand gripped her warm glass, and she silently begged him to ignore his sister: Take a chance. You like Jane. Don’t be a fool.

  “A blacksmith you say? The one in the village?"

  Miss Bingley nodded, jerking her hatefully long nose up and down quickly. “
I believe the brawny fellow who repaired our carriage. Brown.”

  “It is not the girl’s fault — you are right. This time. She may be an angel but… Poor creature. It does not make Miss Bennet a jot less agreeable. I wish we might do something for her. I shall of course not ask her to dance again.”

  “Your heart is too soft — she may be the most agreeable girl in the world, but is not our place.”

  The two walked off. Mr. Bingley realized he was heading towards Jane and moved in a different direction to ask Miss King for a second dance.

  Elizabeth sat down on a hard wooden chair with a snarl. Miss King was an ugly freckled thing, not a tenth so pretty as Jane, and she had a shrewish temperament. If Bingley was a fool who judged on appearances, she would not mourn him. He would marry some rich well-connected woman with an awful character and die miserable and unhappy.

  Someone else would be there for Jane.

  Elizabeth leaned back letting her head rest against the lime wallpaper. It would damage her hair, but she did not care about that now.

  The musicians were playing a happy jig.

  Elizabeth imagined how it should have gone: Mr. Bingley listened to his sister and nodded seriously as he did. He said, “Poor creature — it does not make her jot less agreeable. I shall ask her to dance again — we have no need to care about appearances, and I wish to know her better.”

  Then Bingley — except it was not Bingley, it was someone worthy of Jane. He would talk with Jane every time they were in company, and after a few months he would realize Jane was perfect and kind and sweet, and that nothing mattered except affection. He would not give a tuppence for the scorn of the world, and he would ask Jane to marry him.

  Jane would be deliriously happy and all would be well.

  A voice whispered to Elizabeth, No one she can love will ever want Jane. Another, even lower voice, whispered, If no one can love Jane, then you certainly have no hope.