Chapter II
Resolved though he was to go to Hertfordshire at once, Darcy found himself delayed. First, his banker requested a meeting that could not wait; then his man of business contacted him on another matter altogether. In the end, it was three days before Darcy could extricate himself from London.
The night before he was to depart, he was in the sitting-room with his sister while she played the pianoforte, half listening to her while concentrating most of his attention on Bingley and what he would find in Hertfordshire.
Had he been paying attention, he would have understood how his sister saw his distraction.
“Is there some particular need for you to return to Hertfordshire?” asked Georgiana, taking her seat next to him.
Though startled from his thoughts, Darcy did not hesitate to respond. “Bingley has returned.”
Georgiana regarded him as if confused. “Is that a problem?”
Shaking his head, Darcy said: “No, it is not. Netherfield is Bingley’s leased estate; he may return to it any time he wishes.”
“Yet, Miss Bingley is to stay in London,” said Georgiana, as if trying to understand.
“She is.”
“If you will forgive me, that is most curious.” Georgiana paused, trying to piece together what he had not told her.
“From a few comments she made when we were last in company, Miss Bingley considered it quite a triumph that you were all back in London. I had the distinct impression that she never wished to return to Hertfordshire again.”
“What did she say?” asked Darcy, now interested.
“Nothing explicit,” replied Georgiana. “It was nothing more than a few comments about her distaste for the neighborhood, and one odd question about whether you ever spoke of Hertfordshire.”
By asking such a question, Darcy was certain Miss Bingley had asked Georgiana if he ever spoke of Miss Elizabeth, though she attempted to keep it oblique.
As it happened, Miss Bingley had no need to concern herself for Miss Elizabeth—Darcy had departed Hertfordshire, determined to remove himself from the temptation.
The past days away from her presence had firmed his resolve; he would not fall prey to her allure.
Not wanting Georgiana to know about Hertfordshire, Miss Elizabeth, or Bingley’s predicament, he steered the conversation away from such subjects.
“You are correct—Miss Bingley did not appreciate the place. Why Bingley has returned, I cannot say, but I hope to persuade him to join us in London again for Christmas.”
Georgiana appeared disappointed. “That is unfortunate. I had hoped that I could go to Hertfordshire.”
“You wish to go to Hertfordshire?” asked Darcy, surprised.
“As you know, I enjoy the country more than town. Your descriptions of Netherfield make it sound like a pleasant place—I should rather be there than here.”
Darcy considered this and nodded. Though he was for Hertfordshire to persuade Bingley away from Miss Bennet, Darcy understood his advice might fall on deaf ears.
Bingley, though a man who did not appreciate conflict, had a stubborn streak that manifested itself when he felt that he was in the right.
What had prompted him to return, Darcy could not say, but he suspected some intrigue on Miss Bingley’s part.
If he had discovered something contrary to his sister’s assertions, it was entirely possible that Bingley would not listen to him.
In that case, nothing he said would make Bingley depart.
In that event, Hertfordshire would be more pleasant than remaining in town for Christmas.
“At present,” said Darcy out loud, “I believe it is best that I go alone. Bingley has not invited me—I am going on the strength of our friendship.”
“Then will you send me word if you will stay?”
“If Bingley is amenable, I shall do so.”
“Thank you, Brother. I should like to spend Christmas in Hertfordshire very much. Perhaps you will even introduce me to your acquaintances there.”
“I do not think I have spoken of my acquaintances,” said Darcy.
“Only one of Mr. Bingley’s neighbors. Miss Elizabeth, I believe? You mentioned her in one of your letters—something about accomplishments, as I recall.”
Darcy remembered the exchange very well. “Yes, it was most amusing. Miss Elizabeth tied Miss Bingley into logical knots. She feigned superiority, but I have rarely seen Miss Bingley so flummoxed.”
“Then I shall wait to hear from you, Brother. You will forgive me if I express the hope that Mr. Bingley will be impervious to your arguments.”
As it happened, Darcy could not blame her at all.
While he still thought it best that Bingley did not propose to Miss Bennet, he could not deny his friend the right to choose his own path.
Should that happen, Darcy would wish him well and request an invitation for Georgiana.
Wickham was in Hertfordshire, which was a problem, but Darcy could handle the libertine if Wickham stepped out of line.
AMID THE SATISFACTION of predicting Mr. Bingley’s return, one matter still vexed Elizabeth—that of her dearest friend’s engagement to the oaf, Mr. Collins, the same man she had declined to marry herself.
Elizabeth had not seen Charlotte in several days—not since she had come to Longbourn to announce the engagement—but she could not reconcile herself to Charlotte’s choice to marry a dullard for the security he could provide.
At least Mrs. Bennet had ceased her wailing about Mr. Collins, now that Mr. Bingley had returned.
“Perhaps Mama goes on at length about Mr. Bingley,” said Mary the following morning, “but at least she is not harping about Mr. Collins anymore.”
Elizabeth acknowledged the truth. “For that, we may all be grateful. I was nearly reduced to throwing myself at the Gardiners’ feet and pleading for shelter.”
Mary fixed Elizabeth with one of those inscrutable looks of which she was so proficient. “I know you did not favor Mr. Collins, Lizzy, but was it wise to refuse him?”
“From a prudential point of view, perhaps not,” conceded Elizabeth. “Yet I could not support the notion of enduring Mr. Collins for a lifetime.”
“He could have been the means of supporting us all should something happen to Papa.”
“I dare say you are correct,” agreed Elizabeth, not giving an inch. “However, I stand by my decision—I would rather go through life as a pauper than endure embarrassment and degradation for all the years of my life.”
It was clear that Mary did not agree with her, but she did not attempt to press her case.
For Mary, a man such as Mr. Collins might even be preferable.
She was no romantic and seemed to subscribe to Charlotte’s theory that it was best to know as little about the defects of one’s partner as possible.
Little though Elizabeth could comprehend such a stance, she was not about to argue the matter.
That morning, when Mrs. Hill announced Charlotte’s arrival, Mrs. Bennet appeared to recall her recent source of vexation.
The sharp look she directed at Elizabeth spoke volumes, but at least Mrs. Bennet had the sense to remain silent for the moment—that was not always guaranteed.
Charlotte greeted them all with her typical calm cheer and sat next to Elizabeth.
“Charlotte,” said Mrs. Bennet, more than a little frost in her tone, “I hope all is well.”
There was a distinct undertone in Mrs. Bennet’s comment—Charlotte well understood that her mother certainly did not wish for their comfort. But she refrained from commenting on the subject.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bennet. We are all well at Lucas Lodge.”
Mrs. Bennet nodded, that imperious sort of response she often gave when she was displeased. “Have you decided on a wedding date yet?”
“Mr. Collins and I shall marry on January the ninth,” replied Charlotte without hesitation. “While my father believes that a longer engagement would be advisable, Mr. Collins’s position as a parson and the distance from Hertfordshire render it preferable to marry as soon as may be.”
“Yes, I can understand that,” replied Mrs. Bennet. She paused, then said: “Have you heard that Mr. Bingley has returned?”
Charlotte smiled. “Indeed, I have—my father is usually aware of such happenings when they occur.”
A beatific smile replaced Mrs. Bennet’s previous coldness, and she began speaking of Mr. Bingley.
Charlotte, having the patience of a saint, listened and commented without taking offense, though Mrs. Bennet’s clear purpose was to crow about Jane’s good fortune and compare the benefits of Mr. Bingley’s suit to the drawbacks of Mr. Collins.
That she did so while ignoring the points she had made to Elizabeth about the ability to stay at Longbourn and Mr. Collins’s position as extended family was not lost on her.
It was her mother at her finest, and Elizabeth declined to dive into the fray.
At length, even Mrs. Bennet’s inexhaustible supply of words ran out, and she excused herself to see to some matter of the house, leaving Elizabeth in Charlotte’s company.
Kitty and Lydia congregated on the other side of the room, arguing over something Elizabeth could not hear, while Jane took up some needlework.
When Mary went to the pianoforte to play quietly, this left Elizabeth in Charlotte’s sole company.
“I see your mother is excited about Mr. Bingley’s return.”
It was an innocuous comment—this Elizabeth knew.
While both were far too well-bred to speak of their mothers’ foibles—Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas shared similar characters—each understood the drawbacks of the unguarded behavior their mothers so often betrayed.
Yet for some reason, the comment struck Elizabeth the wrong way.
Later, when she had a chance to think about it, she could only suppose that a woman who had agreed to marry William Collins had no business speaking of another’s poor behavior.