Chapter 7
Seven
As arranged the day before, Darcy had sent his carriage to pick up, and bring back to Netherfield, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Mary. The day's riding lesson had been scheduled after luncheon.
The moment he heard the carriage wheels on the gravel drive, Bingley hurried out to meet them, wishing to give them a warning about his sisters’ arrival before they entered the house. Darcy followed.
Bingley waited until all three ladies had been handed out of the carriage.
Then, instead of offering his arm to escort Miss Bennet, he lifted one hand as if to pause everyone’s forward movement.
“I must beg your pardon in advance of any injury to feelings that might occur inside. I came to Netherfield without my sisters, because I could not count on them to be friendly or even well-mannered to neighbours. As you know, I sent for my aunt once I wished to entertain here.”
“I remember you mentioned your sisters. One is your elder and married; one younger and unmarried,” Miss Bennet said.
“Yes. Today they arrived, uninvited, on my doorstep not half an hour ago. Pray, allow me to speak plainly: my dearly departed parents tried to be good people, and in my opinion they succeeded for the most part, but somehow my sisters emerged from their seminary school as ridiculously status-minded snobs. I will attempt, if they level insults at you, to mitigate them, but I wished to explain my disapproval of their manners before they reveal themselves.”
He watched Miss Bennet’s face, and he saw that she had lost her usual serene expression. A quick glance at her sisters revealed that they seemed unsurprised and undismayed.
Miss Bennet opened her mouth but then hesitantly closed it again. Miss Elizabeth said, “Thank you for your frankness and the warning. I feel we are well-girded, now, to face whatever comes. Lead on, sir.”
Once they achieved the drawing room, Bingley made the introductions.
Darcy had made his wishes known ahead of time, so when he was finished presenting the ladies to one another, and they all made their curtseys and said their pleased to meet you’s, he said, “Miss Elizabeth has recently become betrothed to Darcy, so I should have introduced her as “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, about to become Mrs Darcy.”
He was impressed that Caroline only made the slightest gasp of surprise.
For the duration of his friendship with Darcy, she had sought to recommend herself to him.
If flattery of his person, agreement with his every utterance, and cutting remarks about every other single woman in England could have won Darcy’s regard, they might have been married years ago, but none of that appealed to Darcy.
Though Darcy unambiguously showed his complete lack of romantic interest in her, and as directed, Bingley had privately told her that Darcy would never offer for her, she had continued to act as if her failing strategy would eventually win him over.
Looking from Darcy to Caroline, and then to Miss Elizabeth, Bingley nervously waited for his younger sister’s response.
“Mr Darcy, you naughty thing, you,” Caroline practically purred. “Every lady in London at your feet, and you run off to the wilds to find a bride. How very amusing.”
As usual, Louisa followed their younger sister’s lead; in this case, she giggled as if she too were amused.
Darcy replied, “As delighted as I am to divert you, that was not the motivation for my choice. Miss Elizabeth is the daughter of a gentleman, from a family that has owned their estate for several centuries. Apart from her respectable family, she has a unique blend of talents that will enable her to be one of the best mistresses of Pemberley in my family’s long history. ”
Bingley almost swallowed his tongue. His friend’s words were more like knife thrusts than he had expected.
Caroline had no reason to put on the airs she had adopted, especially given the fact that she was not even the daughter of a landed gentleman—and thus his mention of the Bennets being landed gentry for centuries could be seen as an insult directed towards her.
Caroline’s wide smile seemed to ignore Darcy’s words, however, and she said to Miss Elizabeth, “I so look forward to getting to know you, Miss Elizabeth. Since Darcy is a dear friend of mine, I certainly hope that we can be friends.”
“Me as well,” Louisa said.
Even if Bingley had not known how negative his sisters would feel towards Darcy’s chosen lady, and even if he had not anticipated that they would look down at the Bennets, despite their higher status, because they had neither wealth nor connexions—even without this knowledge, Bingley would have heard the insincerity, and he imagined that Elizabeth had, too.
“I do enjoy meeting new friends,” Elizabeth said. Bingley decided that her smile seemed open and friendly, but her eyes seemed to hold a laugh, and he assumed that the laugh was at his sisters’ expense.
Just as his aunt entered the drawing room, Mr Conrad announced the meal was ready.
Bingley offered his arm to Miss Bennet, but he was stunned to see Caroline swishing quickly past all the guests to take the hostess’s place at the end of the table.
He frowned at Caroline and was about to manhandle her out of Aunt Abbott’s rightful place, but the latter, who was being guided to another seat by Darcy, placed a placating hand on Bingley’s arm and shook her head.
He worried that giving in to his younger sister’s ill behaviour without comment would start a landslide of worse conduct, but he could not ignore his aunt’s direction.
Before Caroline could start directing people to the seats of her choosing, however, he said, “We shall sit informally, wherever people choose to sit.” And he chose to steer Miss Bennet into the chair to his left as he took the seat at the head of the table.
He shot a glance at Darcy, wondering if his friend was feeling dismayed, or even disgusted, but Darcy just met his eyes, nodded his head, and smiled faintly.
Bingley felt a surge of confidence that his older, wiser friend seemed to approve, so far, of his attempts to skate the fine line between courtesy and resolute standing his ground against his sisters.
Elizabeth had felt a jolt of pleasure at Fitzwilliam’s description of the Bennet family. He clearly was defending her before Miss Bingley could level an attack.
Several days ago, she and her intended had been discussing Mr Bingley, and Fitzwilliam had told her that Mr Bingley’s father had made his fortune in trade and had given his son a gentleman’s education.
For that reason, the Bennet-daughters-of-a-landed-gentleman were above the Bingley-son-and-daughters-of-a-man-in-trade in social standing, though not in wealth.
Just now, speaking to Miss Bingley, Fitzwilliam had left out the part that Elizabeth’s mother was the daughter of a solicitor—and indeed she had relatively poor manners and lacked education—but society elevated women who married a higher-status man, so he was correct not to speak to that part.
When the butler had entered the drawing room to announce that luncheon was ready, Fitzwilliam escorted Mrs Abbott and Elizabeth into the dining room.
Of course he led Mrs Abbott to the foot of the table, as she was Mr Bingley’s hostess.
When Miss Bingley shot into that seat just ahead of her aunt, Elizabeth noticed that her intended did not miss a beat.
Instead, he kept going as if he had always meant to circle the table.
He seated Mrs Abbott to Mr Bingley’s right and then seated Elizabeth so that he could sit between them.
That positioned Elizabeth next to Miss Bingley and across from Mr Bingley’s other sister, Mrs Hurst. She smiled at the two ladies and, when Fitzwilliam squeezed her hand under the table, she grinned at him as well.
Miss Bingley leant towards her and said in a low voice, “If we are to be dear friends, I must know everything about you. Pray, how many Seasons have you had in Town?”
“I have never had a Season, largely because my father dislikes London. As a matter of fact, my father dislikes travel entirely; I am very lucky that my uncle and aunt have hosted me in London and on two seaside journeys.”
“You have never had a Season! You look to be old enough to have had at least one!”
“And yet I have not.” Elizabeth chuckled and said, “I suppose you have had at least one?”
It was a somewhat sly question, because the purpose of going to London for a Season was to meet an eligible gentleman and become betrothed or married. Since Miss Bingley was neither engaged nor wed, it could be said that, if she had had a Season, she had met with failure.
“She has had three Seasons,” Mr Bingley answered. “Caroline dearly loves Town: the promenade at Hyde Park, the routs and balls, Vauxhall Gardens and Drury Lane, and I cannot list all her loves without mentioning the excellent shopping the capital offers.”
Elizabeth studied his face. Mr Bingley disliked his sister’s manners, but his own were not perfect.
He had revealed—likely without thinking about it from his sister’s point of view—Miss Bingley’s approximate age and three Seasons of failure.
Keeping her face turned away from Miss Bingley in order to afford her some privacy to pull herself together after the revelation, Elizabeth addressed Mr Bingley.
“I too love London, although not as much as country living. I especially love museums and exhibitions. I have to admit that I have never been to Vauxhall Gardens, but I would love to go someday.”
Hoping for the best, she then turned to Miss Bingley again, smiling, and asked, “What do you like best about Vauxhall? Something you recommend that I myself should not miss?”