Chapter 13 #4
His expression was furious, yet his defending Elizabeth vexed Jane as nothing else could, curdling her dismay into righteous anger. “Better to say I am in the habit of commiserating with her.”
“Commiserating?”
“Yes!” she cried, wiping her tears away with the heel of her palm. “I know you will find this difficult to comprehend, but I am not alone in my aversion to her unending teasing and impertinence.”
Bingley gaped at her. “Are you out of your mind, maligning Lizzy to this woman? She is Darcy’s cousin!”
“Precisely!” She snatched the letter from him. “That is why she is as mortified by Lizzy’s behaviour as I am!”
The more she said, the angrier Bingley’s expression became.
The angrier Bingley grew, the more indignant she grew.
“Think you any of Mr Darcy’s family approves of her determined coquetry?
Imagine their horror when they learnt what trouble her flirting has already brought about from Mr Wickham and Mr Greyson!
I assure you they are far less impressed than you were by her efforts at Pemberley and even more dismayed to hear how she constantly argues with her husband! So you see, she is not as—”
He thrust his face towards hers, his eyes huge and his complexion flooded crimson. “Good God, that all came from you?”
She recoiled and fell silent, stunned by his ferocity though too angry herself to regret any of what she had said.
“What possessed you to write such things of your own sister?”
“It is all true!”
“How can you be so obtuse? True or not, everything you have ever whispered in that woman’s ear has now been spread over the whole of London!
I witnessed it myself when I was there in October—twisted versions of everything you just said, things only you could know—flung at Lizzy in contempt.
I wondered then where it all began. Never could I have suspected it originated with my own wife!
” He returned to clutching fistfuls of his hair.
“They have been sunk into a scandal of your making, and Darcy is punishing Lizzy for it! You have made her the contempt of society and condemned her to her husband’s resentment and disdain.
Damn you, Jane, you have ruined your sister’s marriage! ”
“That seems just,” Jane cried, “for she has ruined mine! She has condemned me to my husband’s complete indifference! Why can you not care about my happiness half as much as you care about hers?”
“Still you accuse me thus?” he roared. “Upon my life, I forswore my own heart to preserve yours!”
Jane wilted in the face of his vehemence, dropping into the nearest seat and looking wordlessly upon his escalating fury.
“Ignorant as I was of your scheme to entrap me, I offered for you without excuse or objection and have endeavoured ever since to make the best of the situation—to love you, if I could!”
She shook her head helplessly as he wound himself into a greater and greater pique.
“I may not always have done it well, and God knows you have not made it easy, but nonetheless, I have tried! My sacrifice was evidently in vain if you are as miserable as you say. So be it! I see no benefit to prolonging our mutual agony. Allow me to relieve both our suffering and leave!”
His pronouncement was so unexpected it rendered Jane speechless.
She uttered not a sound from that instant to the moment the door closed behind him—not while he informed her he would remove to his London townhouse directly, not while he informed her he meant to remain there for the foreseeable future, not while he forbade her from obtruding upon his seclusion with either letters or visits, and not while he informed her she ought to go about the business of being Mrs Bingley in the same way she ever had—as though his being her husband bore no relevance to the situation whatsoever. He was gone before dinner.
By breakfast the next day, Mrs Bennet had learnt of his decampment, returned to Netherfield, and said enough words to compensate for Jane’s want of them several times over. By the end of a week, Jane began to fear that, on this occasion, Bingley truly meant not to return.
Monday 8 February 1813, Derbyshire
Elizabeth looked up from her breakfast as the door opened and tried not to appear impatient when her sister entered. She and Darcy both wished her good morning.
“Has Mr Bingley been down yet?” Georgiana enquired as she seated herself at the table.
“Not yet,” Darcy replied.
“I do hope he is not ill.”
The door opened again, but it was only Maltravers with a letter just arrived for Elizabeth. She took it, feeling some apprehension upon perceiving her mother’s hand, for the previous two from that quarter had borne little in the way of good tidings.
According to Mrs Bennet, Bingley had removed to Town after a disagreement with Jane and had sworn never to return, leading to all manner of unpleasant rumours circulating about Meryton.
Having witnessed first-hand the ugliness of Jane’s recent behaviour, Elizabeth and Darcy could not fault Bingley for wishing to escape it for a while, but they were nonetheless grieved by the apparent severity of their squabble.
Darcy had written to his friend, enquiring if there was aught they could do to assist. They had not heard a whisper in response until he appeared at their door the previous evening, unannounced and in a vast discomposure of spirits, begging that he be allowed to retire directly and promising to explain all in the morning.
Thus, they were all on tenterhooks to hear what he had to say.
“He is not unwell. My man confirmed it with his this morning,” Darcy informed them, replacing his cup in its saucer and enquiring with a raised eyebrow and a nod as to the provenance of Elizabeth’s letter.
“Mama,” she replied, breaking the seal. She very soon after refolded it and set it aside in disgust.
“What news?”
“My Uncle Gardiner called on Mr Bingley and was told he was travelling here. My mother has dedicated three whole sides to her displeasure.”
“Nothing more about the nature of their disagreement?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Only a demand that we send him back directly.”
“Then we shall have to wait for Bingley to enlighten us. Regrettably, I can wait no longer. Peterson is expecting me at eleven.”
A quarter of an hour after Darcy’s departure when Bingley still had not appeared, Elizabeth encouraged her sister to attend to her pianoforte practice and went out for a walk—not five minutes into which, she came upon her errant houseguest. “Mr Bingley! We thought you still abed.”
“Er, no, I beg you would forgive me, I—”
“Do not make yourself uncomfortable, I meant not to upbraid you. We were only concerned.”
He inclined his head but seemed no less ill at ease.
“I was about to walk around the lake. Will you join me?”
He readily accepted, and as she hoped, the pursuit lost him a little of his awkwardness, though not enough to persuade him to speak. “You will have to satisfy my curiosity at some point, sir,” she said at length. “Are we ever to know why you have come?”
“I came to see you,” he said wretchedly. “I wished to see a friendly face.”
“I can understand that. I am glad you know you will always receive a friendly welcome from us, though I am exceedingly sorry you do not feel there would be one at Netherfield.”
He looked glummer than ever.
“Will you not tell me what you and Jane have quarrelled about?”
He gave her a strange look, then sighed and frowned at the ground. “You.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank. No wonder Jane resented her still. “I thought you agreed to forgive her for what she did to me? She and I will never be able to forget it if you will not.”
“I did. At least, I endeavoured to, but something else has since come to light that I cannot forgive.” He looked at her, then away, several times. Then he removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Would that I could avoid speaking of it, for I know it will give you pain.”
“I am afraid you cannot escape speaking of it now.”
He shoved his hat back on and sighed deeply. “It cannot be avoided anyway. You need to know. But is there somewhere we might sit?”
“If I am to be vexed, I should rather keep walking.”
He looked uncertain, but since there were no seats in the vicinity, he had little choice but to acquiesce, and they walked on.
She was glad of the activity when he explained that Jane had been exposed as the source of every damning piece of gossip they had heard flying about London and regurgitated on Lady Catherine’s lips.
“I had not thought Jane so bad as this! I had supposed her to be jealous of my station, but I did not suspect her of descending to such malicious revenge!”
“Upon my word, I cannot forgive her for wounding you thus, first with violence, now with calumny, for which you have suffered doubly, what with society’s disdain and Darcy’s.”
She slowed her pace, bemused as to his meaning until she recalled the last time they were in company.
“If you are referring to our evening at the theatre, you must not concern yourself a moment longer. There was much talk, but Darcy’s overhearings at least were easily gainsaid.
The matter is quite settled between us.”
“I am in awe of your forbearance, Lizzy.”
Supposing him to be resigned against resolving his dispute so easily, she regretted boasting of her own marital harmony, and though the circumstances were hardly comparable, she found herself saying, “Do not suppose yourself incapable of the same. Grievous though Jane’s indiscretions may be, they must not be allowed to come between you, not after all you endured to be together. ”
He made a derisive sound and looked away. “All I endured, indeed!”
“When you were persuaded she did not love you, I meant.”
“I took your meaning, and had your sister not graciously informed me two weeks ago that she tricked me into marrying her, I might still have shared the opinion that such was the greatest injustice I have endured.”