Chapter 7 #2
The only one more distressed than pleased was Mrs. Bennet, who feared her girls might not dance with Mr. Bingley, as Mr. Bennet had refused to visit him.
She had a true burst of joy that put her nerves in great danger when Mr. Bennet took pity on her and confessed he had actually been among the first to call on the young gentleman, who had seemed like an amiable and handsome fellow.
“Oh, my dear Mr. Bennet, how good you are! I knew you loved your daughters too well to neglect such an acquaintance. How pleased I am! You were such a tease to never say a word about it until now! But I shall forgive you for everything immediately!”
“I am glad to hear that, my dear, for I shall not attend the ball with you. And please do not trouble me with any arguments, I am determined.”
“You may do as you please, sir! You have done enough and now we can speak to Mr. Bingley directly! I might invite him to dinner, even before the ball! How lovely that would be! And you say that he is handsome? How old do you suppose he is? And amiable, you said?”
“Mr. Bingley must be in his early twenties. He is handsome, with fair hair and he smiles quite a lot. And yes, very amiable. These are the last details I am willing to provide about this subject and I beg to not be disturbed further.”
Mrs. Bennet was so happy and confident, that such a harsh conclusion did not affect her much.
“Do not worry, I shall write a note to Mr. Bingley in your name, inviting him to dine with us whenever he pleases, this week.”
Mr. Bennet tried to oppose the idea, but he soon abandoned any attempt at an argument. In five and twenty years of marriage, he had rarely won any dispute with his wife.
Mrs. Bennet’s invitation was unfortunately rejected.
Mr. Bingley kindly wrote back, expressing his gratitude and regrets and explaining that he had some unfinished business that required his presence in London.
He said he would return only a day prior to the assembly, and that he would be honoured to dine at Longbourn any day afterwards.
Mrs. Bennet was equally upset by the failure of her plan as she was thrilled for the invitation being accepted in advance—an opportunity she would surely not miss.
***
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy stared through the window of the carriage, trying to pay attention to some of his friend’s words and to entirely ignore Caroline Bingley’s constant demands for attention.
He had been friends with Charles Bingley, who was five years his junior, since Cambridge, and appreciated the young man’s loyal friendship, his honest character and generous heart, as well as his amiable manners, so different from Darcy himself.
However, at that moment, Bingley was a true annoyance to Darcy.
His friend had just rented a property, which had been checked and approved by Darcy’s solicitor.
Immediately after he had taken over the place, Bingley had returned to town to fetch his sisters and his brother-in-law and had insisted that Darcy join them too, if only for a couple of days.
As much as he tried to refuse, Bingley kept begging, even delayed his departure for one more day, repeating that the place was close enough to London, until Darcy agreed, with the mention that he would return to town in less than a week.
Among other reasons for his hesitation, Darcy had a very strong one: Elizabeth Bennet.
He remembered that her father’s estate was in Hertfordshire, the same county as Bingley’s new estate.
He did not remember the exact address, and he had no time to make further enquiries, but he wrote to Georgiana, mentioning Bingley’s new home and enquiring about Miss Bennet’s precise location.
Of course, Hertfordshire was large enough to avoid the risk of an unexpected encounter.
But at least he would know if he happened to be in her proximity.
He could not call on her, as he had been warned that of her family, only her father was aware of her employment at Pemberley, so he could not possibly just appear at her door.
But still, he wished to know her exact whereabouts.
And there he was, in the carriage with four people—Bingley, Caroline, Louisa Hurst and her husband—out of whom he enjoyed only the company of the first. Bingley spoke continuously, Caroline Bingley tried to draw his interest as she had done for the last several years, but Darcy’s thoughts were wandering far, far away, with their own aim.
After he had hired Mrs. Annesley and taken her to Pemberley, Darcy had been called back to town by his aunt, Lady Catherine, citing problems in Rosings’ affairs and concerning his cousin Anne’s weakening health.
He had suspected it to be another of his aunt’s schemes to bring him closer to Anne, in the hope of an engagement that, as far he was concerned, would never occur.
But, faithful to his duties and family, he responded to her call, only to be proved right in his previous assumptions.
What followed was another dull and unpleasant discussion with his aunt and his uncle, Lord Matlock, who suggested it was time for him to marry and to provide an heir for Pemberley.
Unlike previous times, the argument about marriage brought a clear image into Darcy’s mind, one of a forbidden desire, of a passion that would be forever repressed, of a love that could never be more than mere friendship. The image was the fine and dear portrayal of Elizabeth Bennet.
In a way, he felt relieved to leave Pemberley.
There, everyone spoke of her, mostly his sister.
Georgiana had recovered from the painful events in Ramsgate far better than Darcy could have hoped.
Furthermore, she seemed to have grown in self-confidence and strength, to the point where she informed him—rather than asking for his approval—that she had decided to invite Elizabeth to visit her during the winter.
He only nodded, with his heart torn between joy and pain.
He missed Elizabeth, he longed to see her again but hoped that would not happen until he had healed his heart from that wound.
He knew that Elizabeth was fond of him too.
At least, that is what he truly hoped. He could see she was not at ease in his presence, but their small interactions, short conversations, their exchanges of opinion, everything suggested she held him in some regard.
Yet nothing indicated that it was anything more than that, or that she favoured him more than any other man she esteemed—a friend or her friend’s brother, perhaps.
And if she did, it would be even worse; as much as he admired her, he could not consider her as the next Mrs. Darcy that everybody was expecting to see.
In terms of personal qualities, she was everything he desired in his wife.
In terms of social position and connections, she was everything that society and his family despised and would certainly reject.
Any contemplation in that direction made him consider the scandal that would arise and could harm his sister, his other relatives and ultimately, Elizabeth herself.
“Darcy, what do you say? Surely you cannot refuse! You will come with us, I am counting on you,” Bingley said.
“As you wish, Bingley; I agreed to come, so I am at your disposal for the duration of my visit,” he replied sternly.
“Oh dear, I cannot believe it. Mr. Darcy, you will attend the country assembly tonight? Quite shocking!” Caroline Bingley laughed in a false manner, joined by her sister.
Darcy felt the blood draining from his face. He stared at his friend Bingley, whose large smile seemed then most vexing.
“Come now, Darcy, do not look so supercilious! It is not like I am forcing you to be tortured!” Bingley tried to joke. “Besides, you owe me this, since I have already delayed my return for one day and I will barely have time to change my clothes and rest a little before the ball.”
“Bingley, why on earth do you need my presence at a ball, where you know only too well that I will not dance, not carry on much conversation and will likely annoy everyone in attendance? You seem to enjoy torturing yourself.”
“Darcy, I will be alone in a room full of strangers staring at me! I barely know a few of the gentlemen, and that is all. I would like a little bit of company from a trusted friend…”
He then noticed the offence and turned to his brother-in-law, adding with embarrassment, “In addition to my brother’s, of course.”
Darcy took sudden pity on him. “Very well, Bingley, I shall come, as long as you do not expect me to behave any differently from what you know of me from other balls.”
“Excellent! Excellent! Oh dear, I am sure it will be a lovely evening! I have heard that there are some uncommonly pretty young ladies in the town.”
“My God, Charles, you are so silly sometimes. Country balls, country girls… What could be more appalling? My tastes are closer to Mr. Darcy’s than yours,” Caroline declared decidedly.
Darcy doubted that statement very much, but he chose not to reply. He had a dreadful night ahead of him, and he surely did not need any more irksome arguments.