Chapter Eleven #2
The ladies retired soon after the final course. Elizabeth had meant to go directly upstairs and sit with Jane, but she could not resist the opportunity to observe Miss Bingley more closely. Not for the first time, she thought: Who was this woman? And what was behind her odd behaviour?
Louisa Hurst settled herself immediately in front of the tea things, apparently very happy to eat sweet treats and continue with her novel.
Miss Bingley perched on a settee on the opposite side of the room, idly tracing the embroidery on her skirt with a finger.
Elizabeth sat gingerly beside her and Miss Bingley looked up in surprise.
Before she could arrange herself to deliver some clever comment, Elizabeth said quietly, "You took a great interest in the seating arrangements at dinner, Miss Bingley. "
Miss Bingley straightened her spine and turned her face away from Elizabeth. "I am my brother’s hostess, Miss Eliza. It would be rather peculiar if I did not take an interest in the comfort of my guests and the arrangement of the party."
"I suppose." Elizabeth studied her for a moment. "It is only that, in truth, you puzzle me exceedingly. You have been everything kind to my sister Jane, yet you sometimes come out with such sharp pronouncements that I cannot believe your victim does not fall down from the force of the wound."
Miss Bingley stared at her, then began to laugh. It was a real, honest laugh, unlike the affected little sounds Elizabeth had heard from her before, and it softened her face so completely that even the ridiculous turban did not appear quite so ridiculous for a moment.
Louisa looked up from her novel in surprise. Then a warm smile crossed her face. "Caro," she said with real affection. "Are you quite well, my dear? What has amused you so?"
Miss Bingley pressed her lips together and recovered herself with some difficulty. "Nothing of importance, Louisa. Merely an observation from Miss Eliza."
Louisa looked between them with interest, but Miss Bingley had already composed her features.
After another moment, Mrs Hurst returned to her book, though the faint smile lingered on her face.
Miss Bingley leaned a little closer to Elizabeth.
"Has anyone ever told you that you possess a very suspicious mind? "
"I am merely inquisitive," Elizabeth said. "And trying to decide whether you like me or disdain me. Furthermore, I should very much like to know why my conversation with Mr Darcy was directed so closely throughout dinner."
Miss Bingley’s amusement vanished. She looked down at her skirt and began tracing the black embroidery once more. "I have no notion what you mean."
"You changed the entire seating arrangement to place us beside one another."
"You had spent the day in a sickroom and required the warmth of the fire."
"And Mr Darcy?"
"His blood runs cold… he also prefers the fire."
Elizabeth glanced towards the hearth. "Like a lizard?" she laughed.
Miss Bingley gave her a quick, irritated look. "Most people do prefer a warmer spot in October."
Elizabeth waited, but Miss Bingley seemed determined to say no more. She continued smoothing the embroidery upon her gown, though there was a restless movement in her fingers that had not been there before.
"You were rude to almost the entire village at the assembly, but you like my sister and have been everything kind and generous towards her," Elizabeth said.
Miss Bingley looked up, apparently surprised that the matter required explanation.
"Your sister is very difficult not to like.
She is gentle without being dull and good-natured without making a performance of it.
I should have to work very hard indeed to quarrel with her.
" Her gaze lifted briefly towards the ceiling above them, where Jane lay sleeping.
"Even Louisa approves of her, and Louisa is much less easily impressed than she pretends. "
From the tea table came the soft sound of a page being turned, though Elizabeth suspected Mrs Hurst was listening.
Miss Bingley looked down and smoothed one of the folds in her skirt before adding, more quietly, "As for the other matter, I have found it easier to keep the world at arm's length. You would be amazed what a garish wardrobe and an acid tongue can accomplish in that regard."
Elizabeth regarded her more closely, uncertain whether Miss Bingley meant the admission seriously or was merely amusing herself at Elizabeth's expense.
"I had thought the wardrobe only unfortunate," she said at last, and was rewarded with another brief laugh.
But the meaning beneath Miss Bingley's words lingered.
"You speak as though you have been trying to make yourself disliked. "
Miss Bingley's fingers paused upon the fold of her skirt. "Not disliked by everyone," she said. "Only by the sort of gentlemen who might otherwise become troublesome."
That answer puzzled Elizabeth even more. Most young women of their acquaintance spent a great deal of time attempting to attract exactly that sort of notice, and Miss Bingley possessed every advantage for doing so without effort. "That seems a very unusual ambition."
"It has served me better than you might imagine," Miss Bingley replied, though the lightness of her tone did not quite disguise the sadness beneath it.
Elizabeth studied her for a moment. "You do not wish to make a great match for yourself? I should have thought you would have set your sights upon someone like Mr Darcy." She paused, then added, "Or is nothing below a viscount worth the trouble?"
Miss Bingley smiled, but there was little humour in it.
"They call it the marriage mart, and there is more truth in the name than anyone cares to admit.
Everything is weighed and valued except affection.
I learned long ago that fortune and consequence are poor substitutes for it, and the real thing is rare enough without people finding reasons to turn away from it. "
There was enough feeling beneath the words that Elizabeth did not immediately answer. It was perhaps the last thing she would have expected the proud and composed Caroline Bingley to say.