Vol 1, Chapter 5
As the three male residents of Netherfield rode down the drive in Darcy’s carriage, they passed a carriage heading toward the house.
Bingley did not miss seeing that Miss Bennet was within.
He did not realise his sisters had been circumspect and not told him they were entertaining Miss Bennet for dinner.
As they suspected, had Bingley known ahead of time, he would have forgone the dinner with the officers as he had tried again and again to be in her company, failing more often than he succeeded.
“I think I should remain at home,” Bingley looked longingly toward the house where the carriage had halted.
“That is within your discretion, Bingley, but you will be slighting our hosts for this evening, and do not forget it was you who beseeched me to join you,” Darcy chided his friend. The truth was that he would have rather been anywhere but left in the house alone with Bingley’s sisters.
“I will keep our prior engagement,” Bingley returned petulantly.
Jane Bennet exited the carriage and had just managed to gain the protection of the portico when the heavens opened with the rain that had been threatening all afternoon; it was more a deluge than rain.
“Welcome Miss Bennet; what a quaint carriage,” Miss Bingley said, pointing out again, not subtly, that Miss Bennet and her family were poor, the proof being in front of them.
“It does the job; thank you for the compliment,” Jane returned with a serene smile, and Miss Bingley was irritated that her barb seemed to miss its mark. “I passed a carriage departing; luckily, the men were able to leave before the heavens opened. The bridge at the end of the drive floods easily.”
“How would you know that Miss Bennet?” Mrs. Hurst asked.
“My father knows the landlord and keeps an eye on the estate for him,” Jane prevaricated to cover her fluff.
“I am sure that it is good to be able to earn a little more money, my dear Miss Bennet,” Miss Bingley offered with false affection.
“Some, like my father, help others as it is the right thing to do, not to earn money or praise,” Jane replied in a soft tone, which almost took the sting from the rebuke. It was sweetly said, but both sisters felt the implied criticism in her words.
Just then Nichols announced that dinner was served. The three ladies sat, Miss Bingley at the head, her sister to her right, and Miss Bennet to her left. Just after the soup was served, Miss Bingley began her interrogation. “Where is your mother from, Miss Bennet?” she asked innocuously.
“The lady who gifted me life was from Meryton, Miss Bingley,” Jane averred truthfully.
“And her family?” Mrs. Hurst followed up.
“Her father was the late Mr. Gardiner, who was the town solicitor before my Uncle Frank, who I believe you met, took over the practice.” Jane gently wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin as the footman cleared the dishes and another two placed the first course on the table.
“A solicitor, so a tradesman, then,” Miss Bingley smirked as she served herself.
“That is correct, Miss Bingley. Was your father not in trade as well?” Jane asked innocently, maintaining her smiling facade despite wanting to put the pretentious women in their places.
Miss Bingley, who had just demonstrated her decided lack of manners as she served herself before her guest, and her sister’s pallor darkened as their roots in trade were mentioned.
The rest of the course passed in relative silence as the sisters fought to regain their equanimity.
Neither understood their plan to discompose Miss Bennet and show her how unsuitable she was for their brother was rebounding on themselves to show how ill-mannered they were despite all their refined schooling.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Darcy was stuffed between a Lieutenant Denny and Captain Carter during the raucous meal.
He was debating whether it would not have been better to stay locked in his room at Netherfield rather than among such low-class company when he heard someone address him from across the table.
“I apologise, Mr. Bennet, I was deep in thought.” Darcy could not think what the man had to say to him after the snide comment earlier that day.
“No need to apologise, Mr. Darcy. I was saying that one who will claim an acquaintance with you, no matter how tenacious, will be arriving the day after the morrow,” Bennet said with a smirk.
“I know no one in this part of the country,” was the haughty reply.
“A distant cousin of mine who has taken orders will be arriving, a Mr. Collins,” Bennet explained.
“There is none of my acquaintance with that name,” Darcy reiterated intimating that Bennet’s claims were a falsehood.
“He is the new clergyman at Hunsford. Your aunt from Rosings Park is his patroness,” Bennet clarified.
“How would you know that Lady Catherine is my aunt?” Darcy asked curtly, his suspicions raised.
Bennet knew he had erred, and as much as he disliked prevarication, he knew it was called for in this instance.
“My very distant relation wrote a rambling letter where he mentioned that his patroness’ nephew, with the name of Darcy, was in the area that he is visiting.
Evidently your aunt informed him of the fact when he requested time away from Hunsford. ”
Darcy remembered he had made mention of his travel plans to his aunt.
It was when she had demanded he attend her at Rosings Park for some contrived reason in her quest to force a match neither he nor his cousin Anne desired.
“Based on past history, your cousin must be a most peculiar man,” Darcy replied letting his mask slip for an instant, and it was not missed by Bennet.
“If his letter inviting himself here was anything to go by, I would have to say that you have the right of it,” Bennet allowed.
While he was talking to Mr. Bennet, who Darcy had to admit seemed to be a highly intelligent man even if he were not consequential enough to form a friendship with, he had missed Denny telling Carter that his old friend Wickham would be one of the new recruits coming from London.
Darcy did not see the hypocrisy of forming a friendship with Bingley, a tradesman’s son, while at the same disdaining the connection with a landed gentleman.
If he were honest with himself, he would have admitted there was a specific reason he did not want to get close to Mr. Bennet—Elizabeth Bennet.
The country miss with the fine eyes and beautiful looks invaded his dreams, and, when he did not regulate himself, his waking thoughts as well.
He would also have been surprised to realise that in two of his letters to his sister he had mentioned the lady’s name more than once.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The rain had not let up, it had intensified. The sisters’ questioning resumed and, as she delivered tea to the ladies, Mrs. Nichols winked at her mistress’s oldest daughter, which Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst overlooked, as they both ignored servants as a matter of course.
“Do you ever spend time in Town, Miss Bennet?” Miss Bingley began.
“We are often in London with our friends in the Ton.” Jane knew from the report her father had that this was a lie.
The only member of the Ton they were associated with was Mr. Darcy, who had been seen with the brother, not the sisters, at events in Town.
“Yes, I have an uncle in London,” Jane allowed.
“Where is his house?” Mrs. Hurst asked.
Inwardly Jane was most pleased with the way the question had been phrased, for there was no need to tell an untruth. “My uncle Gardiner has a house near Cheapside close to his warehouses.”
Miss Bingley was about to make a snide remark about another uncle in trade when she remembered her mortification at Miss Bennet highlighting the Bingleys’ closer ties to trade.
Not wanting to revisit that mortification, she said, “Well I suppose that not all of us have connections in the highest circles of society.” This particular barb was said with a such smugness Jane almost lost her ability to hide her own amusement.
“You are correct, Miss Bingley, not everyone is so fortunate,” Jane replied ambiguously.
‘If they knew that we are closely related to the De Melvilles, they would be fawning all over me. Both have tried to gain access to Almack’s and have been repeatedly denied.
Grandmama is one of the patronesses, and I shall write to her and amuse her with tales from this evening!
’ Jane smiled with an effort, trying not to burst into giggles at the ridiculousness of the women.
Thankfully, their questions had so far been driven by their assumptions, which allowed Jane to answer truthfully.
“It is so sad that your little estate is entailed away,” Miss Bingley said, sure that the prospect of losing her home would be the one thing sure to discompose Miss Bennet.
“And what estate did you grow up on, Miss Bingley?” Jane deflected the question neatly.
Both sisters' pallor darkened once again while Jane’s amusement increased.
Having lost at every turn, Miss Bingley decided another avenue of attack was in order.
“I have heard tell that you and your sisters have dowries of a mere two thousand five hundred pounds.” Both sisters tittered as they amused themselves with the vulgar subject the younger one had raised.
“You are correct that it is the sum which is known, Miss Bingley,” Jane averred honestly.
“My sister and I each have twenty thousand pounds,” Miss Bingley crowed triumphantly, until she noticed that Miss Bennet looked singularly unimpressed.
“With the small amount reported, you and your sisters will be even poorer than you are now!” Miss Bingley spat out spitefully, becoming increasing upset at being unable to crack Miss Bennet’s serene facade.