Chapter 25
PROVOKED TO JEALOUSY
Elizabeth had been a bit surprised when she learnt Darcy had taken Mr and Mrs Collins out for a drive.
Still, Jane was obviously improved; she had not lost her breakfast this morning, for instance, although Elizabeth noted that she was very particular in what she chose to consume.
Nevertheless, Jane had been relieved when Molly had notified her of Mr Collins’s presence in the drawing room, and had gone to him eagerly.
There was no question in Elizabeth’s mind that this drive was a signal to the neighbourhood that Jane’s illness was at an end, and that Mr and Mrs Collins were reunited.
Whether Darcy had arranged it as a favour to her family due to the gossip their mother had conveyed, or whether the Collinses had asked it of him, doubtless he was doing the couple a tremendous kindness by lending them his consequence.
Since he did not think much of either, in her heart, she felt he meant it as a kindness to her, as well.
He was a good, good man.
It had been so long since she had felt purely, truly happy, the feelings she now carried felt new and wondrous. She was in a mood to like everybody, even Miss Bingley, who joined her in walking through the garden—much to Elizabeth’s surprise.
As they strolled through the shrubbery, however, she found she was due for another one.
“What think you of my brother?” Miss Bingley asked, once they were quite some distance from the house.
Elizabeth looked at her, trying to obtain a clue as to why she would ask such an odd question. Miss Bingley had a wooden smile pasted upon her face, as though trying to appear more pleasant than was her usual expression.
“Hm. I think he is a fine gentleman,” Elizabeth answered at last. “Very kind.”
“He is quite sought after amongst the young ladies of the ton.”
“I am sure he is,” Elizabeth agreed, bemused. A few quiet minutes followed, the only sound their footsteps along the gravelled path.
“I think he is interested in you,” Miss Bingley said at last, bluntly. “In a romantic fashion.”
“What? I assure you he is not.” Elizabeth found herself blushing, recalling the conversation about those stupid snuff boxes! Had Miss Bingley misinterpreted it as well? She had not meant to deceive anyone!
“And I assure you, that I know my brother, and I can tell when he shows interest in a lady beyond the usual.”
“I believe that we had an-an enthusiastic conversation, once, about snuff boxes,” Elizabeth said, picking through her words carefully. “However, his collection was the sole extent of his interest, I feel certain.”
Her companion sniffed. “Do not you see? Men require pursuit, at least a little, to build confidence. You captured his interest for an evening, and if you did it once, you can surely do it again.”
Elizabeth tried to swallow her utter astonishment. “Mr Bingley does not strike me as unconfident. Neither have I any intention of ‘capturing’ his interest, just as he has no interest in capturing mine.”
Miss Bingley sounded offended now, as if Elizabeth had cast aspersions upon her judgment. “He would be an excellent catch. I should think you would find marriage to him a vast improvement over your current situation.”
It was obvious that Miss Bingley found Elizabeth’s indifference an affront, although why she should was unimaginable.
Elizabeth was a fair way to being insulted herself, and yet, for the sake of their kindness to Jane and as a guest in the Bingley home, she tried to be polite in the strangest ‘argument’ she had ever had.
Still, she sped up her steps back towards the house as much as she could without being obvious.
“I am certain that whomever Mr Bingley marries will be a very fortunate woman. I am equally certain that I do not possess what he is looking for in a wife.”
Miss Bingley huffed. “Listen to me. I am trying to tell you that you would have the approval of his sisters if you were to put the slightest bit of effort into attracting him. It would be foolish to allow this opportunity, and our support, to pass you by.”
Elizabeth judged the distance from where they were to the safety of polite escape, and found it to be much too long.
It was a temptation to answer something polite and vague, but she thought it unwise to leave this woman with the impression that she would ever, ever look upon Mr Bingley as anything except a neighbour.
Another temptation took its place—to reveal that she and Darcy now had an understanding.
But no—even if she had been willing to discuss it, the first person who heard this particular news would not be Caroline Bingley.
“I thank you for such a kind offer,” Elizabeth began, trying to be as gentle—but as clear—as possible.
“I regret that in the face of your thoughtful consideration towards my future, I must absolutely and unequivocally reject it. Your brother and I will never have such a connexion. While we might never become sisters, I hold out hope that we might still become good friends.”
Miss Bingley flushed, halting mid-path, whirling to face her.
“I knew it. I told Louisa that you had set your sights on Mr Darcy, and that you would idiotically toss aside any other suggestion. Well, let me warn you as a friend.” She put a heavy, sarcastic emphasis on the word.
“You are naught but an impoverished country widow. He might toy with you, flirt a little; he might even take you to his bed. Such men are accustomed to having whatever they want, whenever they want it. But he will never, ever offer you anything more than that. Do you know what his sister brings to a marriage? Thirty thousand! Do you have any idea of my fortune? Twenty-five thousand pounds, Mrs Ashwood. Twenty-five thousand! What would you bring? Anything? Anything at all? Do you truly believe he would bring such as you to Pemberley?”
Elizabeth could only stare at the woman in disbelief and distaste, shaking her head.
“Beware, Miss Bingley,” she said quietly, when she could find her tongue.
“If Mr Darcy were to hear you now, he would be wholly repulsed. I am sure you would not care to feel his disgust. I shall not bother to express mine.” She strode away as quickly as she could.