Chapter X #2
Though Darcy had never appreciated Miss Bingley and did not consider her a beneficial influence on his sister, he was willing to acknowledge that part of Miss Bingley’s thinking may have been Bingley’s ebullient manner.
The way he had greeted Georgiana might have suggested greater interest than he possessed to those who did not know him well.
Miss Bingley, of course, knew her brother’s character and used it for her own ends, so the excuse of Bingley’s cheerful nature did not explain everything about her ambitions, but it was a facet of them.
Now that Bingley was committed to Miss Bennet, there was no chance of an arrangement with Georgiana.
Had they shown any interest in each other, Darcy would not have stood in their way, regardless of what his family might have said, and he had even indulged in a little light speculation about whether Bingley would make a good husband for her.
Not that he would ever have made such comments to Miss Bingley—the woman would have grown insufferable had she even had a notion of Darcy’s thoughts on the matter.
When Georgiana emerged from her room—Mrs. Annesley, her companion, had chosen to rest for a time—Darcy offered her his arm and led her down to the sitting-room.
They spoke little while walking, but Darcy could see his sister’s curiosity, the way she smiled at him, a slight question in her gaze.
As Darcy did not know the answers to her questions just yet, he did not want to talk on the subject much.
Hopefully, as events proceeded, she would witness enough to render such questions unnecessary.
Bingley welcomed them into the room and plied Georgiana with cakes and tea he had requested from the kitchen. A moment later, they were seated with their refreshments, and Georgiana lost no time in requesting more details.
“Tell me about this family, William.”
“The Bennets,” said Darcy, noting Bingley’s eagerness to have his say. “Yes, they are the family situated to the west. There are five daughters, from two and twenty to fifteen, and all anticipate making your acquaintance.”
As Darcy had known she would, Georgiana looked down, her shyness displayed itself in full force. “They wish to make my acquaintance?”
“Of course they do,” said Bingley, unable to keep quiet any longer. “And you shall meet them tomorrow, for we are to go to Longbourn for dinner.”
“Oh,” was all Georgiana said.
“Bingley is the most eager of us all,” said Darcy, fixing his friend with an upturned brow. “He finds Longbourn very agreeable.”
Georgiana’s eyes shot up, and she regarded Bingley with some astonishment. “Is it because of one of the young ladies?”
“The eldest,” said Bingley, his enthusiasm not hidden. “Miss Jane Bennet is a veritable angel in the flesh, and the best woman I have ever known! Our courtship is not official yet, but I hope it will be soon.”
As Bingley continued to prattle, Darcy watched Georgiana, with curiosity about her reaction.
The way she had greeted Bingley’s interest in Miss Bennet, Darcy found himself wondering if Georgiana was infatuated with him, perhaps to a small degree.
When there was a lull in the conversation, Darcy determined that a little light questioning to receive an answer was justified.
“I am curious, Georgiana,” said he. “Are Bingley’s amorous adventures of interest to you?”
“I am happy for Mr. Bingley, of course,” replied Georgiana, showing no sign of disappointment. “It was just something that Miss Bingley said the last time she visited that makes sense now.”
All trace of the ebullient Bingley vanished, replaced by displeasure more suited to Darcy’s character than his friend’s. “What did my sister say, Miss Darcy?”
“I do not recall everything,” replied Georgiana. “When she spoke of being settled in London, I asked if you were to return to Hertfordshire. Miss Bingley did not hide her distaste and told me the location was most unsuitable.”
Bingley understood at once. “Then she was speaking not only of Netherfield and the neighborhood, but of Miss Bennet.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Bingley,” whispered Georgiana. “I did not intend to disparage your sister.”
“Not at all,” replied Bingley, still considering his sister’s excesses, unpleasant thoughts, given his expression. “Caroline asserted as much to me on several occasions, including how ‘unsuitable’ Netherfield, Hertfordshire, and Miss Bennet herself were.”
“Miss Bennet is a gentlewoman, is she not?” ventured Georgiana.
“She is, but she is the daughter of a country squire and possesses no connections of note. In my sister’s myopic viewpoint, that makes her unsuitable.”
It was perhaps blunter than Bingley should have been, but Darcy understood his feelings. Hurst did not hide his mirth, and even Georgiana appeared to understand and did not comment further on the subject, instead preferring to return to their discussion of the Bennets.
“Then I shall make their acquaintance tomorrow?” Georgiana arched an eyebrow. “To own the truth, I have never thought I would meet them, though I have been curious since you wrote about them in the autumn.”
“Darcy wrote about the Bennets?” asked Hurst, his assessing gaze fixed on Darcy.
“Only to relate some amusing anecdotes,” replied Darcy, unruffled by Hurst’s sudden scrutiny. “Do you recall the evening Miss Bingley praised my even lines?”
Bingley sat up straight, his eyes wide as saucers. “You were writing to your sister about Miss Elizabeth while my sister hovered over you?”
“Yes, Miss Elizabeth,” interjected Georgiana, her eyes falling on Darcy. “That name was prominent in my brother’s letter.”
“Miss Bennet was here convalescing at the time,” said Darcy, providing his sister context. “When Miss Elizabeth learned of her sister’s illness, she visited, and Miss Bingley invited her to stay until her sister recovered.”
Bingley’s mirth again returned. “That was perhaps my sister’s greatest mistake. Not only did Miss Elizabeth tie her in knots several times while she stayed here, but had she known Darcy would become enamored of her, she never would have invited her to remain, regardless of Miss Bennet’s illness.”
This time, it was Georgiana’s turn to gaze at Darcy with stupefaction. “You are courting Miss Elizabeth?”
“Not at all, Georgiana,” replied Darcy, unbothered. “I will own that she interests me, but anything more than that is premature.”
“Miss Elizabeth does not think highly of Darcy,” supplied Hurst, unhelpfully in Darcy’s opinion.
The light in Georgiana’s eyes dimmed. “Miss Elizabeth does not like my brother?”
Bingley laughed at Georgiana’s tone, and Hurst grinned. Unable to bear the notion that her brother was anything less than perfect, Georgiana now appeared to look upon a young woman she had never met with a jaded eye. Darcy could own to more than a little diversion himself.
“Do not concern yourself, my dear,” said Darcy. “Miss Elizabeth and I are on good terms now. Remember that I am interested in her. When we first came to Hertfordshire, my behavior was not the best—I am uncomfortable when in company with new acquaintances, if you recall.”
Mollified, Georgiana nodded. “Then I shall wait until our introduction to make my judgment of her.”
“That is for the best,” agreed Darcy. “Trust me, Georgiana—once you come to know Miss Elizabeth, you will not be disappointed.”
UPROAR AT LONGBOURN was no singular occurrence—Kitty and Lydia often returned with gossip that sent their mother into a flutter, and Mrs. Bennet was not incapable of creating a ruckus herself.
Another source of disturbance was Mrs. Philips, Mrs. Bennet’s elder sister, who visited at least once a week, and held a position as one of Meryton’s most determined gossips.
On the day in question, the same day that Georgiana Darcy had arrived from London, the tumult was muted, and not only because the news Mrs. Philips brought was not exactly a surprise, though the last tidbit was.
“Oh, we already knew of Mr. Wickham’s worthlessness,” said Mrs. Bennet, waving away her sister’s news. “Even if Mr. Wickham had not proved it by his actions, Mr. Darcy told us all about him.”
“Mr. Darcy?” gasped Mrs. Philips, a note of incredulous surprise in her voice. “Did he not deny Mr. Wickham his due?”
“Not at all,” replied Mrs. Bennet. “Mr. Darcy was blameless in the matter.”
“This is strange, Maggie,” said Mrs. Philips after sitting silent for longer than Elizabeth had ever seen the woman go without speaking.
“The last I knew, the Bennets were not friendly with Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Philips fixed her eyes upon Elizabeth.
“Something about Lizzy being not handsome enough, as I recall.”
“Mr. Darcy was wrong to say that,” said Elizabeth, pinking just a little. “But his return has taught us to think better of him. Aunt Gardiner knew him as a child when she lived in Lambton.”
There were matters of which Mrs. Philips did not know, and she did not like it. She prided herself on knowing the intimate details of everything that happened in Meryton—ignorance was an anathema to a gossip, especially one as determined as Mrs. Philips.
“You mentioned that Mr. Wickham proved his worthlessness,” said Mrs. Philips, her eyes narrowing. “Pray, what did he do to make you suspicious of him?”
Even Mrs. Bennet appeared to understand they could not speak of the incident at Lucas Lodge without disguise.
There had been only a few witnesses, and word had not spread around the neighborhood.
Elizabeth had done nothing wrong, but even the whisper of inappropriate advances by an inebriated officer could damage her reputation if they did not take care.
“When examined, his behavior was not above reproach,” said Mrs. Bennet, “and his tales of misuse at Mr. Darcy’s hands made no sense. It is obvious when one thinks about it.”
Elizabeth turned away to stifle a laugh, and she noted Mr. Bennet doing the same. That answer seemed to mollify Mrs. Philips to a certain extent, though she remained suspicious.
“Then you knew of the debts?” demanded Mrs. Philips. “The tales of Mr. Wickham attempting to seduce several young ladies in the village?”
“Not the specifics, Letitia,” replied Mr. Bennet. “Mr. Darcy told us something of his habits, so the news you bring does not surprise us, though we did not know the specifics.”
“I hope none of the young ladies was ruined,” said Mary.
Mrs. Philips shook her head, appearing preoccupied. “Nothing had proceeded beyond flirting yet. When the blacksmith’s daughter heard the rumors, she went to her father. He approached the colonel, demanding satisfaction. That was when they discovered that Mr. Wickham had absconded.”
“He fled?” asked Mr. Bennet, his interest aroused.
“The colonel had men watching him,” said Mrs. Philips, “but he slipped away. The colonel has men searching, but I cannot say if they will apprehend him.”
“Then he is gone and good riddance,” said Mrs. Bennet.
Mr. Bennet nodded, but addressed Mrs. Philips again: “Is there any word of how much debt he has amassed?”
“I do not know the exact amount, but I understand it is substantial.”
“And in only a month,” replied Mr. Bennet, shaking his head. “It is well that we were warned of his character before he could do more damage. Darcy has pledged to cover Wickham’s debts, but only so that he may see him in prison.”
“Now that appears impossible,” said Elizabeth, “unless the colonel’s men can find him.”
“Darcy will cover the debts, regardless. He has given his word and will not go back on it.”
Elizabeth knew her father was correct. Some of her observations of him had been correct, but in several ways, she had misjudged him. It had been a hard lesson to learn that her observations were not infallible, but a necessary lesson all the same.
Mrs. Philips continued to speak, telling them tales of Mr. Wickham’s exploits, his debts of honor, adding to those he owed the merchants, claiming he was a devil sent to ruin them all.
It was more of her sensational style of spreading her gossip—what was good gossip without embellishment to make it more interesting?
Though Elizabeth esteemed her aunt, this facet of her character had never rested easily with her.
Mary was worse, for she watched Mrs. Philips through narrow eyes, disapproval visible in the thin line of her mouth.
At length, Mrs. Philips exhausted her flow of words and departed, allowing them all to breathe a sigh of relief.
The family all separated to their own interests, and for Elizabeth, that meant considering all she had learned, including both men who had upset her equilibrium.
Mr. Darcy was far more than she had ever expected, and Mr. Wickham far less.
Where that left her, she could not say, but she was curious to meet Miss Darcy.
Not only did she sound like a sweet girl, but Elizabeth thought the girl’s character would tell her much about the brother.