Chapter Six
Although Darcy’s invitation to dine, extended prior to leaving Netherfield, was meant only for his good friend, Bingley sent a note saying that Caroline had caught wind of his attending Darcy’s home and invited herself along, which then morphed into Hurst and his wife being added to the guest list.
How could Darcy decline without giving a good reason?
Their friendship was casual, and spur-of-the-moment changes to dinner plans were not unusual.
He had the good sense to advise his sister they would have company that evening, then instructed Mrs. Whittaker to inform the cook of three extra guests.
At precisely seven o’clock, because Darcy House was the only establishment Miss Bingley attended on time, Darcy greeted his guests. The whole week had been surreal, and it was hard to believe it had only been four days since he’d last spoken with Charles. It felt more like years.
“Mr. Darcy! Upon my word, every time I enter your delightful townhouse, I feel such an affinity for your dear late mother’s exquisite taste,” were the first words out of Miss Bingley’s mouth when she entered the drawing room “The décor is so refined and elegant. Your future wife will have almost next to nothing to do with regard to making changes.”
Darcy fumed. His wife would have nothing to do with making changes. She would be far, far away in Pemberley, never to darken the door of Darcy House for many years.
Bingley and his sisters, along with Hurst, made themselves comfortable.
Miss Bingley cornered Georgiana and pestered her about her studies and how her lessons were going with her music master.
He took note of Miss Bingley’s proprietary behavior and thought he’d have another talk with Bingley but then paused.
He would be off the marriage carousel in a few short days, and Miss Bingley would no longer be able to think of herself as the next Mistress of Pemberley.
He felt the faintest of smiles begin to form.
At least one good thing would emerge from this sham of a marriage.
Needing a semblance of normality, he wished all was as it had been before his departure to Hertfordshire.
Had it been only six weeks? He did his best to put his troubles on the back shelf and enjoy the meal and conversation.
When dinner was complete, they eschewed the separation of the sexes – Darcy had no intention of leaving Georgiana alone with Bingley’s sisters – and all of them gathered in the drawing room.
His shy sister agreed to play while he, Bingley, and Miss Bingley chatted.
Hurst relaxed on the couch, as normal, and Mrs. Hurst played with her bracelets.
Although he made every attempt to follow along in the conversation, he could not rid his thoughts of his upcoming marriage.
Slow anger took root in his belly every time he thought of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Wickham entrapping him in their scheme.
He, who had successfully outmaneuvered the most cunning of mothers in town, as well as the grasping claws of one determined Miss Bingley, had managed to become trapped by an impertinent miss who had at one time caught his attention.
His continuous thoughts of Richard traveling to Meryton also weighed heavy on his mind.
Although grateful the problem of Wickham was finally being dealt with, it did nothing to quell the disquiet he felt about learning the truth – good or bad – of what role his future wife had played in their compromise.
Because his mind was on these past events, he inadvertently brought the subject of Bingley’s lease into the conversation.
“Have you written your solicitor to quit the lease on Netherfield?
“I cannot do anything as of yet. There is a clause whereupon I have to keep the lease for a minimum of six months or forfeit the whole year in pecuniary damages.”
Darcy was beginning to hate that word, clause. It made him think of Bennet’s pitiful attempt to save a few measly pounds for his daughter’s financial security.
“Throwing good money after bad, old chum?”
“I liked Meryton. I had no complaints about the area or my neighbors.”
“There are some immediate neighbors I am glad to say we will never have to see or speak with again,” Miss Bingley exclaimed. “For the most part it was as Mr. Darcy said, they were a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion.”
“There was beauty Caroline. You chose not to see it,” chastised her brother.
“They were vulgar and uncouth. Why, they thought Miss Eliza was – what did Sir William say about her? – Oh, yes. She was the unheralded jewel of the county. What a laugh. For my part, I must confess I never saw any beauty in her. Her face was too thin; her complexion too dark with no brilliancy, and her features were not at all handsome. Her teeth were tolerable, I suppose, and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called “so fine” – she slid a provocative glance in Darcy’s direction – “I never perceived anything extraordinary in them.”
Miss Bingley chose at this time to face Darcy in full, her eyes glittering in triumph over her perceived rival for his attention.
“I particularly recollect your saying one night you could scarcely believe she was thought of as beautiful!”
A small measure of shame rose in his chest over the words Miss Bingley threw back in his face. Miss Bingley, receiving no praise or condemnation for her words, continued with, “Thank goodness you did not stay behind to marry the chit, Mr. Darcy.”
“And how do you know I won’t?” At Miss Bingley’s raised brow, Darcy added, “Marry her, that is. Have you received correspondence citing the opposite from her sister and your friend, Miss Bennet?”
“Jane Bennet is no friend of mine and I doubt the little mouse will have the temerity to write. I informed her, in no uncertain terms, that any letter received from her would be consigned to the fire unread, and if she attempted to speak with me or my family, I would cut her directly.” Miss Bingley said in a firm voice.
“As it stands, Charles followed your lead, and did not even say his farewells to that horrible family.”
“True, Darcy. At one time, I seriously considered offering for Miss Bennet, but knowing you did not offer to marry Miss Elizabeth after the compromise, I could not take the risk of being censured.”
The discordant bang of piano keys cut the air. Darcy looked to his sister, who now stood by the pianoforte, visibly shaking.
“Georgiana!”
He had forgotten she was in the room.
“You compromised a lady and refused to marry her?” his sister asked, her voice betraying a slight tremor.
He had no answer.
“She was no lady, my dear Georgiana….”
Miss Bingley stopped talking at the glare Georgiana cast in her direction.
“Did I ask your opinion, Miss Bingley? I believe I was speaking with my brother.”
Never had he seen his sister in such a fury.
“Now is not the time or place—” he started to say, only for Georgiana to break in.
“I know very well what I have witnessed, Fitzwilliam. You openly mocked and gloated over the fall of a lady with your friends.”
“Georgiana, please go to your room.”
“Is this the same Miss Elizabeth you once described in glowing terms? You wrote of her wit, her willingness to debate, and especially how you enjoyed her singing and playing. Are you all speaking of that, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Oh, please,” Miss Bingley scoffed, “She was just another piece of muslin Mr. Wickham used to dig at your brother.”
Georgiana gasped and turned chalk white, but not from shock. Darcy could tell. No, she was absolutely livid. He silently cursed Bingley and his penchant for keeping nothing from his sister.
“Go to your room, Georgiana. Now,” he said in a quieter tone. When she continued to stare him down, he added, “Please.”
“I have always looked up to you, believing you could do no wrong. But to think that you, of all people, would not do the honorable thing… with a gentleman’s daughter, no less.
” Darcy took a step toward her, and her chin tilted up in a rare show of stubbornness.
“I am going, Brother. Do not come and wish me goodnight.”
She took no leave of their guests and sailed through the room; her head held high.
She looked so much like their mother his heart ached.
Following in her shadow was Mrs. Annesley, who dared give him a grim look as well.
Not only had he lost the approbation of his much-beloved sister, but also of her respected companion.
“You wrote of Eliza Bennet in glowing terms?” Caroline cried out in astonishment once Georgiana had quit the room. “I believe the world has stopped spinning on its axis.”
“Not now, Caroline,” Charles said, clearly understanding the shock Darcy felt at his sister’s rare act of defiance.
Darcy fervently wished Bingley had come alone without his family in tow.
What should have been a night of strict confidences being shared had become a comedy of errors, and he now had to deal with a sister who thought him the worst of cads.
Even more so than George Wickham in her eyes. He had much to explain.
“I do not think it would be remiss if I called an end to this evening.”
“Of course, Darcy. We shall leave immediately.”
“Mr. Darcy, before all of this unpleasantness, I had a lovely evening.” Miss Bingley approached, stopping too close for comfort. “Next time we are together, I can safely promise I will never bring up that impertinent chit. You and I have other more delightful topics of conversation to canvas.”