Chapter II #2
“Jane,” said Elizabeth as she sat beside her elder sister, who was watching Colonel Fitzwilliam with the girls, a faint sense of indulgence hanging about her.
“I see they have claimed his attention again. When I consider how often this has happened these past days, I wonder when your jealousy will emerge.”
The sisters had been intimate long enough for Jane to know when Elizabeth was teasing. “At present, I have no reason to be jealous of anything.”
Elizabeth grinned and nudged her sister. “That is strange, Jane, for in my estimation Colonel Fitzwilliam prefers your company above that of anyone else.”
The way Jane looked at her—censure mixed with exasperation—Elizabeth knew she had teased her sister enough.
“Did you not warn me to guard my heart, Lizzy?”
“I did, Jane,” agreed Elizabeth. “Yet you are not blind, and I am not above teasing you, regardless. It is still best to guard your heart, but you must own that his preference is promising.”
“As I recall, you said that about Mr. Bingley.”
“So I did,” agreed Elizabeth. “Colonel Fitzwilliam is not Mr. Bingley.”
“Yes, we have established that much.”
Elizabeth turned to her sister. As the colonel was still focused on Kitty and Lydia, there was time for a brief private conversation. “Not long after Mr. Bingley arrived, you called him the best man of your acquaintance. Tell me, Jane, do you think the same of Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
Though Jane considered the question for several moments, Elizabeth did not think her sister was trying to avoid responding, nor did she appear to misunderstand her feelings. Rather, Elizabeth was certain Jane was trying to articulate what she wished to say.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam is a good man,” replied Jane at length. “That much is clear. Beyond that, I am trying not to extend myself by speaking too warmly of a man when I still do not know him well.”
For a long moment, Elizabeth regarded her sister. Then she reached out and squeezed Jane’s hand. “That, my dear Jane, is the most sensible comment you made in some time.”
“Miss Bennet is ever sensible.”
Elizabeth looked up to see Colonel Fitzwilliam standing before them, grinning in a way that reminded Elizabeth of Mr. Bingley.
The man was leaning on his cane, interested in the sisters’ tête-à-tête—Elizabeth wondered just how much he had overheard.
Behind him, Kitty and Lydia were whispering together, their eyes finding the colonel every few moments, conversation punctuated by occasional giggles.
“I hope, Miss Elizabeth,” continued Colonel Fitzwilliam, a teasing lilt in his voice, “that you do not consider your sister insensible.”
“Not at all, Colonel,” replied Elizabeth, opting for a daring response. “Jane is as rational a woman as I have ever met. It is only that she sometimes trusts too easily.”
“Lizzy!” hissed Jane, appearing mortified.
The colonel, however, gave her an unreadable look, then sat on Jane’s other side and turned to regard them. Turning roguish, he winked at Elizabeth.
“Of your sister’s trusting nature, I had no doubt. After all, she appeared to trust me at once. My cousin would say that is a fatal error, indeed!”
The laughter came easily to Elizabeth’s lips, joined by Jane, though her sister peered between them, her looks promising retribution. As Jane was such a gentle soul, her retribution was not something to be feared.
“Now,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, turning serious again, “can I suppose that your comment was not merely a jest, but contained a measure of truth?”
Though Elizabeth threw her sister an apologetic look, Jane only shook her head. “I own it without disguise,” replied Jane in her soft voice. “Between us, I look on the world to find good, while Lizzy looks with suspicion.”
While it was not entirely accurate, Elizabeth did not respond, wanting to know what Colonel Fitzwilliam would say. His gentle smile, already warm for one who had only just made Jane’s acquaintance, told Elizabeth much about his already burgeoning feelings.
“It takes a special sort of person to look at the world with such favor, Miss Bennet.” Then he grinned at Elizabeth. “But it is also welcome that you have such an able cynic to help you see the darker parts of the world around us.”
“Lizzy has a habit of ever keeping me safe from myself,” replied Jane, throwing Elizabeth an affectionate smile.
“Not at all,” said Elizabeth. “Jane is perfectly capable of the discernment necessary to see shades of gray.”
“Of that, I am certain,” replied the colonel.
He paused for a moment, pondering his next words.
“I will own that I have heard something of the current tenant of Netherfield, at whose sufferance I enjoy your company. Though Darcy said little, I understand the Bingley party did not think much of the neighborhood.”
“That is an understatement,” said Elizabeth when Jane did not respond at once. “I suspect we were all too provincial for them, though Mr. Bingley appeared at ease with us.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam regarded her for a long moment. “Was Bingley comfortable in company or was there a certain . . . direction to his interest in the neighborhood?”
“He paid me quite excessive attention,” whispered Jane, with no prompting from Elizabeth.
This time, the pause was longer. “Enough to have engaged his honor, perhaps?”
Jane flushed bright red, but Elizabeth had no compunction at all about responding. “That is not for us to say, Colonel. However, what I can tell you is that every time Mr. Bingley was in company with Jane, he had little attention to spare for anyone else.”
“From what I know of Bingley, that is not at all unusual.”
The way Jane’s head shot up, her eyes filled with shock, Elizabeth wondered that she had not blurted something, though Jane usually exercised far more control over her reactions.
What to make of his comment, Elizabeth was uncertain, but she did not think it was an attempt to blacken the name of a man he considered a rival.
Colonel Fitzwilliam’s next words proved Elizabeth’s supposition.
“Please do not suppose that I am censuring Bingley, for I know no harm of him. I am not so well acquainted with him as Darcy, but I know something of his exploits in society. Of course, I can say nothing of his feelings for Miss Bennet, but he is eager to admire young ladies, though I do not believe he acts beyond simple admiration.”
“Then he is inconstant,” said Jane softly, appearing dejected.
“I cannot say that,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam, drawing Jane’s eyes to him.
“Miss Bennet, please do not suppose I am trying to blacken Bingley’s good name.
Remember that Bingley is still quite young—it may be nothing more than youth and the simple fact that he has not yet found a woman who suits him. ”
Elizabeth considered this, and when Jane did not respond, she essayed to speak herself. “In this instance, I do not believe it was Mr. Bingley’s decision alone that prevented his return to Netherfield.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam’s snort was not at all expected. “By that, I presume you refer to his sisters, and perhaps even my cousin.”
“I do not intend to cast a shade, Colonel,” said Elizabeth, “but when looking at all the facts, my interpretation of events is plausible at least. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst never concealed their distaste for the neighborhood, and Mr. Darcy rarely said anything to anyone when he could avoid it.”
“He spoke to you more than anyone else,” ventured Jane, though with an expressive look that spoke volumes.
“And when he did, they were almost always debates,” returned Elizabeth.
Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared to catch something in Elizabeth’s reply, though he was not displeased.
“For Darcy, I can speak at length, for I am as well acquainted with him as any man alive.
Darcy is not blessed with a disposition that is comfortable in any society, and there are extenuating circumstances that likely influenced his behavior, though I cannot speak of them.
“As for the Bingley ladies . . .”
With a shake of his head, appearing exasperated, he focused his attention on them both again. “Mrs. Hurst is not so notorious, being of a much quieter disposition, but Miss Bingley has a certain infamy in London, and it is not to her credit.”
Jane gasped, though Elizabeth was not at all surprised.
“Again, I do not speak to censure,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, regarding Jane with a measure of affection Elizabeth did not think most men harbored for their wives of many years.
“Miss Bingley has an exaggerated opinion of her worth, and a haughty disposition that even my sister Rachel—who has a high opinion of herself, indeed—does not display. I have seen enough of the world to know that people cannot be measured by the circumstances of their birth alone. Having said that, Miss Bingley, though she does not like to acknowledge it, is the daughter of a tradesman—giving herself airs is even more ridiculous for her than it is for a duchess.”
Elizabeth could not agree more with his assessment.
It was not Miss Bingley’s supercilious nature that offended her; it was the woman’s assumption that she was better than others because of her dowry or the seminary she had attended.
Piercing the vanity of others was something of a pastime for Elizabeth—Miss Bennet was a rich target.
“Now,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “I am curious about my cousin. Darcy is not a warm man, or at least he is not to those he considers mere acquaintances, but I have never known him to give unconcealed offense. If I have misinterpreted, I apologize; but I suspect you have something more against him than his standoffishness. Will you not be explicit?”