Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Just after the New Year, the long-absent master arrived at Netherfield.
In one of the few letters Bingley had contrived to send in the closing weeks of December, he had informed Hurst that their sister was established in apartments in Curzon Street—the situation, he maintained, being respectable and well-appointed, sufficiently within Mayfair to answer Miss Bingley’s insistence upon remaining in Town.
Darcy had required no further explanation to understand how such an arrangement had been managed. That Miss Bingley had refused any attempt to send her to Bath or elsewhere did not surprise him; that Bingley had not remained steady in his resolve did.
When Bingley arrived, however, the fuller particulars emerged as the gentlemen discussed the matter not long after his arrival.
He had not merely declined to require his sister to pay her own rent; he had settled it for the year in advance, thereby relieving her of the immediate necessity of living upon her income.
In addition, he had discharged the accounts she had accumulated during her stay in London.
“Caroline would not be satisfied with Bath, much preferring to remain in Town,” Bingley said in response to a question from Hurst, waving away his concerns.
“Oh, I know that she attempted to speak to Lady Matlock and was rebuffed, but sooner or later, her friends will forget the incident and she will receive invitations again. For now, be pleased that we no longer have to house her or keep her with us.”
The Hurst townhouse having been closed, Miss Bingley had remained at an inn throughout their time in Town.
There, with little occupation beyond her expectations, she had ventured daily into the shops, hopeful of attracting notice from someone of consequence.
When few such meetings occurred, and even fewer invitations followed, she had consoled herself with purchases she neither required nor could reasonably sustain.
Bingley, unwilling to deny her, had removed the consequences rather than the cause.
The entire matter had profited no one but the merchants; the accounts were settled, but the lesson—if one had ever been intended—was not learnt.
Hurst did not disguise his disapproval. They had all agreed that Miss Bingley was to be settled away from Town and obliged to regulate her own expenses. That resolution, so confidently made only weeks before, had proved remarkably short-lived.
He did not raise his voice, but neither did he temper his meaning.
“Remember, when all this blows up in your face, that I discouraged you from this course,” he said, with a steadiness that admitted no misunderstanding. “She bears your name, not mine, and it is your reputation she will damage.”
“She has had a difficult time of late,” Bingley replied with forced lightness. “I could not very well abandon her. She is my sister, after all and has shown some attempt to behave better recently.”
The words were intended to appear generous; instead, they sounded instead like excuses. Hurst did not smile. Darcy observed that Bingley did not quite meet his brother-in-law’s eye.
Darcy himself spoke more quietly, yet with no less firmness.
He did not question Bingley’s generosity; he questioned its direction.
A kindness that removed consequence without correcting conduct was not kindness at all—it was indulgence, and indulgence had already borne sufficient fruit.
His friend’s liberality might be commendable in other instances; here, it was misplaced.
Once again, he made it plain that he did not approve the use—however indirect—of his own name in support of ambitions which society was unlikely to reward.
His aunt had already declared her position: she did not wish to know Miss Bingley, and Darcy was no longer to be associated with her in any public capacity.
For the present, he would maintain his friendship with Bingley; but he had no intention of permitting ambiguity on the point of his sister.
Such united disapprobation could not but be felt. Though Bingley had intended to remain in Hertfordshire some weeks, he quitted Netherfield after only a few days, alleging business in Town that would not be deferred.
It was not only this matter from which Bingley recoiled when faced with firmness; he shrank equally from discomfort of a more personal nature.
Before his departure, he contrived one brief meeting with Jane Bennet, whom he had been—at least tacitly—courting before he left.
On the day following his arrival, Jane and Mary Bennet, together with Elizabeth and Georgiana, came to Netherfield for tea, as had been previously arranged. No note had been sent to inform them of Bingley’s return, and both he and Miss Bennet were visibly startled when they encountered one another.
For a moment, no one in the room spoke.
“Miss… Miss Bennet,” Bingley exclaimed upon entering the drawing room with Darcy, Hurst, and Richard. “I had not expected you.”
His colour rose as he looked about the room, seeming only then to take in the arrangement of the party. His sister sat perfectly at ease amongst the ladies, as though nothing were amiss; Jane Bennet, by contrast, had gone very still.
When no one immediately replied to his greeting, Bingley turned towards his sister.
“Louisa, I had not realised you had become so friendly with the Bennet sisters—and their cousin.” His gaze shifted abruptly and fell upon Georgiana. “Miss Darcy!”
Again he turned, this time to Darcy. “I did not know your sister was at Netherfield. Why did I not see her at dinner last evening?”
“She has been staying at Millwood Cottage with Miss Elizabeth and her grandfather,” Darcy replied evenly.
“As we were there for some time after I left Netherfield, the ladies had the opportunity to become acquainted. When I returned to Netherfield to stay with the Hursts, I permitted Georgiana to remain where she was most content.”
Bingley appeared uncertain what to make of it, forcing a smile and asking no further questions.
After a moment, whatever troubled him seemed to clear, and he moved towards Jane Bennet—only to discover that Colonel Fitzwilliam had quietly taken the seat beside her while Bingley had been engaged in conversation.
Undeterred, Bingley claimed a nearby chair and began at once to speak earnestly to Miss Bennet, unaware or not caring that he was interrupting Richard. Darcy could not hear everything that was said, but it seemed he was regaling her with stories about London.
For several minutes it appeared to succeed. Richard clearly recognising the necessity of retreat, allowed Bingley the opportunity to speak to the lady, speaking only once during this time when Bingley seemed to be trying to convince Miss Bennet to go somewhere with him.
“Allow Miss Bennet the privilege of knowing her own mind, Bingley,” he said, his tone mild even though Darcy was certain his eyes were not. “She has already told you she does not wish to walk in the gardens.”
From where he sat beside Elizabeth, Darcy observed the exchange with increasing interest.
Elizabeth inclined slightly towards him and murmured, “I do not know that Jane has decided upon either gentleman at present—but I think their conduct today may reveal them both for what they are. Your friend behaves rather like a spoiled child who, having cast aside a toy as no longer amusing, finds another engaged with it and suddenly desires it again.”
Darcy was obliged to stifle a laugh at the accuracy of her assessment.
It was impossible to predict Bingley’s future conduct; however, Darcy was already irritated with him over the settlement of Miss Bingley and could not deny a growing doubt as to whether his friend possessed the steadiness required for marriage at present.
As the conversation continued, Darcy noticed that he and Elizabeth were not alone in their observation.
Richard, from his place beside Jane, betrayed a succession of expressions. At first there was irritation at the interruption; then, gradually, something more measured. It was evident to nearly everyone in the room—save Bingley himself—that Miss Bennet herself was uncomfortable.
The ladies, who had intended to remain the entire afternoon, departed scarcely an hour after their arrival.
At the time, Darcy had been unable to determine what precipitated the Bennet ladies’ abrupt leave-taking—soon followed by that of Elizabeth and Georgiana, much to his displeasure. Later, however, he learnt the cause.
Bingley had, it seemed, more than once requested a private interview with Miss Bennet. Each time she declined, offering polite but unmistakable excuses. He persisted. At last she rose and announced that they had already exceeded the proper duration of a call and must return home.
“Indeed, we must not trespass upon your hospitality any longer, Mrs. Hurst. Mama wished for us to return early so she could visit her sister this afternoon,” Miss Bennet said, her composure visibly strained.
This declaration had produced visible surprise—particularly in Mrs Hurst, whose expression betrayed both irritation and something like mortification. Nevertheless, she rang for the carriage without protest.
Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth and Georgiana declared their intention of departing as well.
Elizabeth paused long enough to whisper to Darcy, “I do not know what Mr Bingley has said to Jane, but she fled. You must speak to your friend and discover what has passed. Pray tell Mrs Hurst she is still expected at tea at Millwood tomorrow—but not her brother. If you are able to come, I should be glad of it. Does he know that we are engaged?”