Mrs. Bingley’s Sister (The Austen Novels)

Chapter 4

Jane Bingley lay down on her bed while she had the opportunity, as she knew before long that her baby would be up again. She closed her eyes but understood that sleep was not forthcoming. She just had a feeling.

Ever since becoming a mother, Jane's tendency to put herself last was ever present. It was a godsend that her sister Elizabeth was here to help; she wasn't sure how she might be coping, otherwise. Bingley was nice, loving, and sweet, to be sure, but he failed to provide anything Jane needed at this time, and to his credit, he seemed to sense this and thus, stayed away. She saw him a few times a day, but otherwise, she only saw Elizabeth, her lady's maid, the wet-nurse, and the baby. When Mr. Darcy arrived yesterday, Jane felt a weight off her shoulders; she had felt so guilty for neglecting her poor husband, so at least now that Mr. Darcy was here, Bingley might have a worthy distraction.

What Jane had failed to anticipate, however, was the effect of Mr. Darcy's presence on her dear sister.

Even though Jane was enmeshed in a whole new world of overwhelming existence—from the limited movement she was allowed in the first few days following a long labor and birth, to the constant round of feed the baby, hold the baby, stay near the baby, sleep when possible, feed the baby, hold the baby, stay near the baby, eat when possible— it did not fall beneath her notice that Elizabeth seemed nervous upon the date of Mr. Darcy's impending arrival.

The sisters had not talked much of the man, but when they did, Jane never used his name. He was always just "him." Jane knew, Elizabeth knew, they always knew about whom they spoke when they spoke about “ him.”

Jane recalled seeing her sister after her return from Hunsford. Elizabeth had seemed somewhat subdued, forlorn. It deeply concerned Jane, who was on the verge of asking her sister to come and live with them, so she would have her closest friend with her upon the birth of her first child. She and Bingley had discovered her pregnancy while Elizabeth was away in Kent, and asking her to live with them was going to be an additional surprise to the news of an impending baby's arrival.

But Elizabeth seemed to be in poor spirits. This concerned Jane, and she hesitantly brought up the idea of Elizabeth moving in, rather than offering it up as a delightful gift. She wasn't sure how Elizabeth would feel about living with them, and the question now loomed: why was her sister so bereft upon her return from Hunsford?

Jane received the answer very soon.

It was naught three days past Elizabeth's return from Kent that she divulged to Jane the entire story: Mr. Darcy had proposed marriage (which was incredibly shocking, to Jane's ears), and Elizabeth had refused him.

"You had warned me not to heed what Mr. Wickham was saying so much," Elizabeth had confessed sadly, "I did not listen. Here. Read this."

Elizabeth passed her a letter that was written in Mr. Darcy's hand.

"Why, Lizzy," Jane said with a gasp, looking up at her with widened eyes, "He wrote to you?"

She nodded. "He hand-delivered it to me the very next morning. I do not believe anyone saw, nor knows. Go on, I beg of you. Read it."

And so Jane did read it, and what a letter it was. Wickham, it had unfortunately turned out, was lying about the living he was supposedly denied. But then the letter took a turn for the worse.

"Poor Miss Darcy!" Jane exclaimed upon its reading.

"Poor Miss Darcy, indeed! And how despicably I acted, defending such a man!" Elizabeth bemoaned, "I, who have prided myself on my discernment, who have valued myself on my abilities, who have often disdained your generous candor, Jane, and gratified my vanity in useless, blamable distrust. How humiliating! Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one Mr. Wickham, and offended by the neglect of the other Mr. Darcy, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till that moment I read this letter, Jane, I never knew myself."

Jane was sorry to hear such a self-admonishment from her sister. She put her hand upon Elizabeth's arm to comfort her and said, "Dearest Lizzy, it isn't as bad as all that, surely? Why, I admit I cannot be too surprised at his admiration for you—in fact, I have to admit it quite endears me to the man, if it is the case—but I am sorry to hear he proposed in such a dreadful manner."

Apparently, Mr. Darcy had degraded the Bennet family and expounded upon all the moral obstacles he had overcome in deciding to pursue Elizabeth. It had made Jane wince to hear some of what he had said about their family, though she couldn't deny that the Bennets were wanting in propriety much of the time. What was worse, however, was that he apparently seemed so certain Elizabeth's acceptance.

"His being so sure of succeeding was wrong, to be true," Jane admitted, "But consider how much it must increase his disappointment?"

Elizabeth looked saddened, and she turned her eyes away from Jane.

"Indeed, I am heartily sorry for him; but he had other feelings which will probably soon drive away his regard for me, I am sure."

Jane sighed and watched Elizabeth sadly. Elizabeth looked over and gave a weak smile and an even weaker laugh.

"Oh, Jane, do not worry about me, even if Mr. Darcy does despise me, at least now he has a reason to," she said with a faint chuckle, obviously intending to jest in what Jane considered to be an attempt to mask the pain.

Elizabeth paused and then added, questioningly, "You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?"

"Blame you! Oh, no."

"But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Mr. Wickham."

Jane gave her sister a forlorn look. "I did not know you were wrong to believe him. How could any of us have known?"

But the tale of Wickham's evil manipulations of young Miss Darcy were distressing, that Jane could not deny: "I do not know when I have been more shocked! Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! Dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! And with the knowledge of your ill opinion, too! And having to relate such a thing of his sister! It is really too distressing. I'm sure you must feel it so."

Here Elizabeth cracked a smile, and Jane knew she was going to make light of the situation: "Oh, no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I am growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent—"

"Lizzy! Surely not."

"Your profusion makes me saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart will be light as a feather."

Jane let out a weary laugh and shook her head. Her sister had seemed less bothered by the time they finished their conversation, and Mr. Darcy was rarely spoken of again, until the revelation that he was to be the baby's godparent.

"Darcy shall certainly be one of the godparents to our baby boy," Bingley had said, "and Hurst too. And Elizabeth will be the godmother, most assuredly."

Jane had added with a shake of the head and a laugh, "But Mary also, dear, if we have a little girl, you know. It is not set in stone that we are having a boy."

Bingley had laughed at that and admitted she was right.

But the mention of Mr. Darcy, even then, brought to mind the urgency of the situation when news of Lydia's elopement first broke.

"What do you mean, she's eloped?" Jane had asked her husband when he read the express aloud. He had given her a dubious look and started to pace the floor.

"It means what it says. She and that Wickham ran away in the night, supposedly heading for Gretna Green!"

Jane's mind immediately recalled the letter Mr. Darcy wrote to Elizabeth, and the story of poor Miss Darcy's near-indiscretion.

"Why would he do such a thing?" Jane asked aloud, though she already knew why. Lydia was no penniless gentleman's daughter anymore—she was sister-in-law to Mr. Charles Bingley, a wealthy man with an annual income of five thousand a year. Knowing what she knew about Wickham's pursuit of young Miss Darcy for her dowry, it was clear what was going on.

"You must send for Mr. Darcy," Jane suddenly said, causing Bingley to stop pacing and stare at her.

"Darcy? Why on earth would we involve him in this—"

"Because Wickham tried to elope with his sister!"

Bingley's jaw dropped. Jane spoke again, this time more calmly: "He told Elizabeth all about it when they were in Kent. It was last summer. At Ramsgate. Wickham tried to seduce his sister into an elopement."

Bingley merely stared at her for a moment, but then urgently strode over to his writing desk. He sat down and began to pen a note. But then he looked back up at her, puzzled.

"What pretext should I give? Surely he would be horrified if I revealed that we know about Georgiana and Wickham—"

"Do not reveal it,” Jane said quickly, thinking fast, “Merely ask for his help, because he knew Wickham as a boy. Surely that would suffice?"

Charles nodded slowly, considering her words. Then he said, "Jane, you are right. I will simply ask for his assistance. I am sure he would jump to help me if I needed it."

And it was done. But later that evening as Bingley was readying to depart for London—having now learned from Mr. Bennet that Wickham and Lydia had not gone to Scotland after all but headed for London instead—he asked her, "Jane, why on earth did Darcy tell Elizabeth such a thing? I did not even know they were friends!"

Jane swallowed and considered him. She then sighed and told him everything. He was more than just a little surprised.

"I had no idea he proposed to her," he uttered with a small shake of his head. "Poor bloke. But it explains his odd behavior as of late, I suppose. He has resisted all my invitations to come visit. Now I believe I see why."

Jane nodded sadly. "And although Lizzy doesn't talk much about him, I have a feeling she regrets everything a little more than she lets on. Why, I think she feels very foolish."

Bingley gave a laugh. "Well, Elizabeth is not someone I would ever consider foolish. But if she truly believed Darcy had as poor of a character as all that, well, she was quite mistaken, I daresay."

Her husband departed and left Jane, and a little over a week later, Lydia was returned by Mr. Bennet and set to wait there at Netherfield quietly for many days before a wedding took place. Bingley came and retrieved Lydia discreetly, delivering her to a small and obscure London church where she and Wickham were married, and that was that.

When Bingley finally returned to Netherfield for good, Jane begged to know what had happened—how did he get Wickham to marry her?

"Jane, it is done. No need to divulge the sordid details."

Jane bit her tongue. But she truly wondered how much money Bingley had to shell out to Wickham. And what about Mr. Darcy?

"Did Mr. Darcy help you find them?"

"Aye, that he did," Bingley said slowly, then added, "He located them for us. The rest was between me, Mr. Bennet, and Wickham. It's all settled now, though. Please, my dear, do not bother yourself about this anymore. Elizabeth returns to us in three days—things will be better then."

And so it was. Jane was relieved her husband had been able to get the Lydia situation taken care of, and she was pleased to have not had to inform Elizabeth of any of it while she was on her trip with their aunt and uncle.

And now they were here, at Netherfield, the morning of her daughter's christening. Both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were going to be there, and Jane wondered if they would be at all capable of coexisting with one another. Dinner at Longbourn had been very uncomfortable. Why Mrs. Bennet sat the two of them next to one another was beyond Jane, but it had happened regardless. She hoped today's ceremony would be easier.

Jane rested her eyes, allowing herself another moment of peace before the inevitable start of the day.