Chapter VI #3
Mr. Darcy was no more a source of intelligence than Miss Bingley had been.
Though Elizabeth now thought better of the gentleman and even enjoyed his company, he could be maddeningly vague.
Elizabeth was certain he did it of a purpose, though she could not yet understand if it was caprice or caution.
Much as she had with Miss Bingley, Elizabeth decided there would be little benefit in dancing about the subject, though she tried for a measure of circumspection.
“It was a surprise to see Mr. Bingley in company we had not expected.”
The gentleman regarded her, eyes searching as if trying to understand. “Unexpected company? Pardon me, Miss Elizabeth, but I do not understand your meaning.”
“In Hyde Park,” said Elizabeth. “My aunt and I were walking when we saw Mr. Bingley with someone unknown to us both.”
Mr. Darcy fixed her with a slight smile. “From your careful tone, might I assume this mysterious person is a lady?”
“A lady it was,” said Elizabeth. She described the scene, though there was not much to tell, and when she finished her recitation, Mr. Darcy appeared thoughtful.
“The reason for your curiosity is clear, Miss Elizabeth,” said he after a moment’s thought.
“Yet you do not mean to assuage it,” said Elizabeth.
“The shape of it is yet unknown to me,” replied Mr. Darcy.
“But not the basis,” insisted Elizabeth.
The gentleman paused again, then nodded. “It is becoming clearer, but I am certain you have determined that yourself.”
“I have,” agreed Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy nodded. “Given the pace at which events are proceeding, I suspect matters will become clear before long—for us both. At present, I shall only say this: Bingley is a man of strong affections—sometimes stronger than even he understands—but pressing him toward certainty too soon has never produced good results.”
Elizabeth pondered this for several moments. “As I recall, you suggested that Mr. Bingley never listens to his sisters if he disagrees and feels strongly about his position.”
“Yes, I did,” said Mr. Darcy.
“Then the essential question remains unanswered,” said Elizabeth.
“Miss Bingley intends to manage her brother until he proposes to my sister, but Mr. Bingley’s feelings on the subject are not so obvious.
I suspect this woman we saw him with plays some role in this, but I do not yet have the shape of it. ”
“That is a reasonable assumption,” agreed Mr. Darcy.
Though she nodded, Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy with some asperity. “Will there ever be a time when you will speak openly and without all this innuendo, Mr. Darcy? If you will pardon me, I always thought you a rather straightforward sort of man.”
Mr. Darcy appeared sheepish. “You have not judged amiss, Miss Elizabeth—I have little patience for subterfuge, and I value honesty, not deceit. Please understand that in this I am not being deceitful. At present, it is not my place to speak, nor do I know more than you do. In the end, I suspect Bingley will make his wishes clear, but he will not do so until he understands what he wants.”
“Very well,” said Elizabeth.
Later that evening, as they sat in the carriage, Elizabeth debated whether to say anything of what Mr. Darcy told her. What Jane said then did not drive it from her mind, but it told her that her sister was seeing clearly, and that Elizabeth did not need to play the role of her protector.
“Mr. Bingley hesitates more than he did in Hertfordshire,” said she, the comment escaping her lips when Elizabeth suspected Jane had meant it only for herself.
“You would be blind, indeed, if you did not notice it,” replied Elizabeth.
Jane nodded, though she appeared distracted, even in the dim light of the carriage.
“The picture is not complete, but it suggests something different from what Miss Bingley painted. The hesitation, the unexplained absence, the woman in the park—this is enough to understand that something exists beyond what I can see.”
“How does that make you feel?” asked Elizabeth.
“Cautious,” replied Jane. “For the first time, I am confronting the notion that Mr. Bingley’s heart is engaged, but not with me.”
Elizabeth sympathized with her sister, though she remained silent for the moment, wanting to see what Jane did with what she had just acknowledged. It was the first time anyone had ever voiced such a thing, yet she understood it had only been a matter of time.
“If Mr. Bingley’s heart is engaged elsewhere,” said Jane, “then whatever passed between us at Netherfield cannot simply resume because it once seemed likely.”
“With that, I cannot disagree,” replied Elizabeth. “How does that make you feel?”
Jane sighed. “It is complicated. Affection must be chosen freely to be worth having at all—we have built our lives on this truth, Lizzy. If Mr. Bingley’s heart is with another, I can do nothing but wish him every happiness.”
“You do not sound heartbroken.”
“I do not think that I am,” replied Jane. “That might come later, but right now I can do no more than wish Mr. Bingley every happiness. If one wishes to marry for the deepest love, she must applaud when another finds it, even if it ends expectation.”
“That is quite mature,” teased Elizabeth. “You are becoming a philosopher, Jane.”
“Not at all,” said Jane. “To own the truth, I suspect Mama will feel far more sorrow than I will, if, indeed, this turns out as I suspect.”
Elizabeth laughed and took her sister’s hand. “With that, I cannot but agree, dear sister.”