Chapter III #2
Darcy saw the trap at once. The reason for his surprise was unknown to the Bennets.
They knew nothing of Miss Bingley’s insistence on following her brother to London, the scene in Bingley’s townhouse where Darcy had joined with the sisters to use every means at their disposal to persuade him against returning to Netherfield.
And yet, Miss Bingley had cast all that aside to invite Miss Bennet to London, presumably to put her again in Bingley’s company.
Darcy could think of no reason for this sudden change of heart, but he knew Miss Bingley did nothing on a whim.
Everything she did was calculated. Darcy was uncertain just what her game was.
“No, it is not, Miss Bennet,” said Darcy, deciding on a tactful, truthful, yet vague response. “You must own that it is curious that she would journey to the country to pay a call on you. Could she not have written?”
Miss Bennet regarded him, forcing Darcy to reassess his opinion of this woman. While Darcy had always thought her sweet, angelic, and incapable of offending another, there was a different side to her, one that displayed a measure of Miss Elizabeth’s steel.
“Perhaps she could have,” agreed Miss Bennet, offering nothing else.
“Then she invited you to London, and you came,” said Darcy.
“She has promised to introduce my nieces to her friends, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “I expect them to be much in her company this season.”
“What of you, Mr. Darcy?” asked Miss Elizabeth. “Shall we see you also partaking in the amusements of the season?”
This was safer ground, though there was an edge in her tone he could not miss. “You know enough of my character to understand that I am not a social man, Miss Elizabeth. I do attend, though I choose events that interest me, hosted by those I call friends.”
Darcy offered a slight smile and shrugged. “To own the truth, I accept only a fraction of the invitations I receive. Then again, there would not be enough time to attend everything, for I cannot be five places at once.”
It was not meant asa a boast, and though Darcy realized they could read it as such after he said it, none of the ladies noticed.
“I hope you will allow us the pleasure of your company at Gracechurch Street again, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Gardiner warmly. “It would please me to welcome you and your dear sister again.”
“Of course, Mrs. Gardiner,” said Darcy, his esteem for her softening his features. “Perhaps it would be best to wait until your nieces settle into your home, but I should like to introduce her to their acquaintance.”
“Then we shall speak of it anon.”
It was curious, this Mr. Darcy who spoke with civility, and even understated affection to her aunt, a woman Elizabeth would have expected him to disdain.
Elizabeth had never cared much for Mr. Darcy, and it was not because of his rude words that first night at the assembly.
Or at least that was not all of it. Elizabeth was convinced that Mr. Darcy had played a part in persuading Mr. Bingley away from Hertfordshire, though she knew the primary force behind that was Miss Bingley.
Yet now she was confronted by a civil Miss Bingley and a .
. . Well, humble was not a term she could use to describe Mr. Darcy—she did not think it was a facet of his character.
Perhaps polite or even respectful was a better term.
Miss Bingley, despite her civility, carried a measure of haughtiness, hidden but not diminished.
Mr. Darcy appeared comfortable, though again, his pride was not absent.
Where this led, Elizabeth could not say. Mr. Darcy might be more than Elizabeth had ever supposed—stranger things had happened. Miss Bingley, however, had invited them to London for purposes of her own. What they were, Elizabeth did not know. But she knew better than to relax her guard.
As the conversation continued with banal observations mixed with a few friendlier exchanges between her aunt and the gentleman, Elizabeth noticed a measure of strain beneath the surface.
Mrs. Gardiner handled the situation with ease, drawing Mr. Darcy into ordinary topics that included London, Mr. Darcy’s recent movements, and mutual acquaintances, but Mr. Darcy was not fully engaged.
He appeared to be considering something that Elizabeth could not even name.
Jane spoke with her usual gentle civility, though there was a distance she could not quite disguise.
That was not unusual for her, so noticing it at all was noteworthy.
Mr. Darcy’s manner to her was attentive and respectful, but Elizabeth watched the gentleman closely, trying to discern any sign of the influence she believed he had already exerted over Mr. Bingley.
Then the subject of his friend came up—Elizabeth had not expected it.
“How is Mr. Bingley?” asked Mrs. Gardiner, a casual question, though Elizabeth suspected it was more pointed than it seemed.
“Do you also know Mr. Bingley, Aunt?” asked Elizabeth.
“Edward met him once,” said her aunt. “Though he was from the north, your uncle had a passing acquaintance with Mr. Bingley’s father.”
“It appears you have more knowledge than you ever revealed before.”
Mrs. Gardiner raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth’s tone, more in amusement than censure.
Elizabeth stood her ground—to some extent, she was a little cross with her aunt for not speaking of these things.
To press the issue now would not be appropriate, so Elizabeth kept it to herself.
Mr. Darcy spoke, moving the conversation along.
“I have not had Bingley’s company much of late.” The gentleman paused and offered a wry smile. “When there is society to be had, Bingley gets rather inattentive to such inconsequential matters as maintaining friendships.”
The gentleman paused as if uncertain whether to continue, then added: “Any contact between us during the season is usually based on his sister’s efforts rather than Bingley’s.”
Elizabeth might have laughed, but the occasion did not permit it.
She noted that Mr. Darcy had suggested that Mr. Bingley was distracted during the season—there was no mention of any regret over his departure, or even any continuing thoughts of Jane.
Mr. Bingley had returned to London, and now that he was engaged in the increasing events, his mind was on that as if he forgot how he had behaved toward Jane in the autumn.
“Then he is much occupied,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
“Yes, I must suppose he is,” said Mr. Darcy. “I imagine he is enjoying himself—he usually does.”
“I am pleased that he is well,” said Jane. “As we are to be in Miss Bingley’s company for the season, I imagine we shall also encounter her brother.”
Mr. Darcy regarded her with an earnest expression, as if there was some question in the gentleman’s mind that remained unanswered.
To Elizabeth, that was proof he had colluded with Miss Bingley to detach her brother from Jane and was now wondering why she had set that aside.
What it could be to Mr. Darcy was uncertain—Mr. Bingley was a friend, not a member of Mr. Darcy’s illustrious family.
Should he choose a country miss for a wife, why should Mr. Darcy care?
“I hope we shall also see you, Mr. Darcy,” said Jane when the gentleman did not respond. “From Miss Bingley, I understood you were often in company with the Bingleys.”
“Yet you just suggested that you do not see him much,” interjected Elizabeth.
The gentleman merely gave them a slight smile. “It is not that I do not see him—it is that we do not associate much. You saw Bingley at the assembly and the ball. When there is dancing to be had, he rarely finds time for other concerns.”
“That smacks of judgment,” said Elizabeth. “Is Mr. Bingley frivolous?”
“No, I would not say that,” replied Mr. Darcy.
“Bingley enjoys his diversions, and he is in a time of life when social concerns and friends are of most interest. He is an excellent fellow, and I am prodigiously fond of him, but I am also aware of his prodigious appetite for society and all its trappings.”
The conversation ended soon after that exchange. Mr. Darcy, citing a need to return to his home, bid them farewell. Before he departed, however, he surprised Elizabeth again with his courteous words.
“Until next time, Mrs. Gardiner. Perhaps instead of dining at your house, it is our turn to host.”
Mrs. Gardiner laughed and agreed. “If you prefer to host, I have no objection.”
“Then we shall speak of it again,” said Mr. Darcy.
Then he turned to Jane and Elizabeth, bowing over each of their hands in turn, his hat beneath his arm. “Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth. Until next time.”