Chapter XV #2
Then he took himself and sat by Jane’s side, a jest or two issuing from his lips, restoring some of her good humor, though her nervousness never faded.
Elizabeth watched him, grateful for his actions.
For some time after they had arrived at Pemberley, she had wondered if Colonel Fitzwilliam intended to vie with Mr. Bingley for Jane’s hand.
It had become clear to them all that he esteemed her, but he took no steps to raise himself in her regard.
Elizabeth suspected this was in part because he recognized her focus on Mr. Bingley, and also because of his oft-stated jest about needing to marry a woman with a substantial fortune of her own.
At that moment, Elizabeth’s contemplations halted because of the interruption of approaching footsteps in the hall outside the door, accompanied by the indistinct murmur of conversation.
The moment, it seemed, was at hand. When the door opened, Mr. Darcy led his newest guests into the room, a party of four, comprising Mr. Bingley, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, and Miss Bingley.
Whereas the lead gentleman betrayed nothing other than eagerness, his companions were a mix of other emotions, including misgiving from Mrs. Hurst, amusement from her husband, and Miss Bingley’s frustrated anger.
With the rest of the family, Elizabeth rose to welcome the newcomers, watching Mr. Bingley and seeing how his eyes alighted at once on Jane.
It was as if a stiff breeze had cleared the clouds on an overcast day, for any tension eased, and he grinned at the sight of her.
Jane’s primary response was the relief of slumped shoulders and a quiet exhalation of breath.
The two had communicated with a look, and now all would be well.
“I believe you are all known to one another,” said Mr. Darcy, regarding his friend with fondness.
“Unfortunately,” muttered Miss Bingley, a comment heard by all the room.
While the younger girls frowned at the woman’s obvious rudeness, no one compounded her error by speaking of it.
Those newly arrived bowed and curtseyed, murmuring their pleasure—though Miss Bingley’s curtsey was hardly noticeable and her pleasure nonexistent—those already present returning the gesture as politeness dictated.
Mr. Darcy stepped forward and, belying his previous statement, introduced the Gardiners to Mr. Bingley and the Hursts, then allowed his friend to take over the conversation.
“How excellent it is to see you all!” exclaimed Mr. Bingley the moment he rose from his bow. “It is less than a surprise since I have known about it for several weeks now. I will own that I was no less than shocked when Darcy requested the use of Netherfield, though I believe he did not stay long.”
“Only a few days, Bingley,” replied his friend. “Soon thereafter we decamped for Pemberley and have been here ever since.”
“So I understand,” said Mr. Bingley. “And here we all are. For my part, I am delighted.”
“Perhaps you are not shocked,” said Miss Bingley when her brother appeared ready to make for Jane’s side at once, “but I cannot say I have yet recovered. Mr. Darcy, receiving the Bennets—of all people—at Pemberley, and this after we all understood his opinion of them.”
Miss Bingley turned a critical eye on Elizabeth. “Miss Eliza, I can see you are here too. What a coup you have managed, for I cannot find you tolerable, or any more tempting than you were in November.”
The lady’s misstep provoked no little mirth from those present, including her brother-in-law who appeared to be savoring the ridiculousness of it all.
In this, Elizabeth noted, he was much like her father, and a glance that passed between them furthered this opinion.
The rest of the company had the good sense to remain silent and allow Miss Bingley to dig her hole deeper.
Speaking to make one’s host appear ridiculous was not the wisest way to go about informing others of one’s displeasure, but then again, Elizabeth had expected no restraint from the woman.
Rather than take offense, which Elizabeth would not do, caring nothing for this woman’s opinion, she arched an eyebrow and fixed Miss Bingley with a mysterious smile.
The woman did not appreciate the sentiment, given the fury that settled over her countenance.
“Hold your tongue, Caroline!” spat Mr. Bingley.
“Why?” asked she. “Did I say anything that was not true?”
“Whatever Mr. Darcy’s initial opinion,” interjected Mrs. Bennet, “it is clear he enjoys Lizzy’s company very well now. Had you been here these past weeks, you would have no doubt of it.”
Miss Bingley’s jaw worked in anger. “This is a disgrace. How you could have seen fit to pollute the very stones of your estate with this family’s presence I cannot say, for I thought you possessed of more nobility of character, Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth looked to Mr. Darcy and burst out laughing, the gentleman joining her.
“That is so like another recent visitor charged that I wonder if you corresponded with her,” said Mr. Darcy.
“Though you would probably appreciate the comparison, we would not mean it with any pretense at a compliment.”
It was clear they had confused Miss Bingley, though her anger never dimmed. When she opened her mouth to speak, her brother neatly cut her off.
“We are not so far away from Scarborough that I cannot return you to Aunt Esther.”
Miss Bingley’s mouth snapped closed, and she glared resentfully at her brother.
“It seems,” said Mr. Bennet, looking to Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy “that this is a most propitious moment to make an important announcement. With your permission, of course, Darcy.”
“Please, Mr. Bennet,” replied Mr. Darcy. “I quite anticipate it.”
They could all see how much Mr. Bennet was enjoying himself, for he directed a wide grin at Elizabeth and beckoned her to him, taking her hand tightly in his own.
Miss Bingley appeared terrified, and well she might, for all her pretensions teetered on the edge of the revelation that they were nothing more than the posturing of a bitter and ambitious woman.
“I should like to announce the engagement of my daughter Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy. Of course,” said he with a jovial note in his voice, “no one who has been present at the estate had any doubt of their attachment. But one must abide by the forms, I suppose.”
“That cannot be!” cried Miss Bingley.
“It can be, and it is,” said Mr. Bennet, not giving an inch.
“I suspect certain expectations rendered today’s announcement desirable, for Darcy accosted me in his library not a half hour gone, demanding my permission.
As a devoted father, I pondered the matter for about three seconds and gave my consent.
My submersion in his excellent treasure trove of books may have had something to do with it. ”
Elizabeth’s family crowded around them, offering their congratulations, while Georgiana squealed and spoke of her appreciation for her brother’s gift of several sisters.
Above it all, Mr. Bingley’s voice rose in approbation, though Elizabeth noted he lost no more time in making his way to Jane’s side.
Mrs. Hurst’s expression of resignation was more pronounced, as was her husband’s glee.
As for Miss Bingley, she appeared torn between desolation and utter fury.
“No, Caroline!” hissed her sister when Miss Bingley opened her mouth to speak.
Grasping her arm, Mrs. Hurst pushed her sister to a pair of out-of-the-way chairs, speaking earnestly with her.
None of her words made their way to the rest of the party, but Mrs. Hurst was uncharacteristically forceful, if the jabs of her finger were any indication.
Miss Bingley listened to her sister, her manner becoming ever sulkier.
A few moments later, the elder ceased her lecture, leaving her sister to stew alone, while she approached the company.
“Please accept my good wishes for your happiness, Mr. Darcy, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hurst,” said Elizabeth, deciding graciousness would serve. “Your sentiments are much appreciated.”
Soon all was set to rights. Mr. Bingley took himself to Jane’s side, their manners much as they had ever been in Hertfordshire, the excitement of the company provoking lively conversation all around them.
Mrs. Hurst sat with her husband nearby, and if neither said much, they all perfectly understood their sentiments, diversion for him, and acceptance and hope for her.
Miss Bingley fulfilled that hope by remaining apart from the rest of the company until the housekeeper came and conveyed the newcomers to their rooms to rest after their journeys.
It surprised no one that Mr. Bingley refused to be moved from Jane’s side.
“That was not precisely kind,” said Elizabeth to her new fiancé when he joined her a few moments later.
“No, but hopefully it will end all her pretensions,” said he. “Unfortunately, I expected her reaction—your father, and I determined to announce it only if she proved my supposition.”
Elizabeth nodded, unable to feel much sympathy for Miss Bingley. “Do you suppose she and the Hursts will stay as long as they originally intended?”
Mr. Darcy grinned. “If I know anything of Hurst’s affinity for my wine cellar and his determination to take part in the sport Pemberley offers, he will inform Miss Bingley that her disappointment is her own doing and refuse to indulge her.”
“His behavior surprised me. He appeared almost gleeful at the scene.”
“According to Bingley, Hurst does not like his sister much. Apparently, she incites much discord in his marriage.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Then he has risen in my esteem. I judged him to be nothing but a bore and a drunkard.”
“He is all those things,” said Mr. Darcy. “But he also possesses hidden depths. Not so much as to make him agreeable company, but enough to render him tolerable.”
“Then I suppose we must tolerate him, for unless I miss my guess, he will be family in a roundabout way.”
“That he will, Elizabeth. And I cannot be happier. For I shall have the most precious jewel in all England in my life. I cannot wait.”
“Neither can I, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, raising a hand to caress his face. “Neither can I.”
The End