Chapter Thirty-Six
As Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy prepared to visit Longbourn the next day, they were unhappily surprised to learn that Miss Bingley proposed to accompany them. “But why, Caroline?” her irritated brother enquired.
“Simply to see how you get on with your courtship, Charles,” she replied, smoothly.
“It is not an official courtship,” Mr. Bingley replied at once, his brows drawing together.
“I know, but you have made your intentions clear enough,” she said.
“Do you think so?” Mr. Bingley asked, nervously.
“Oh, without a doubt. After all, you have visited the family every day for weeks, and no one could believe that your interest was in her younger sister, Mary. I do imagine your Miss Elizabeth is waiting for you to make her an offer any day now.”
Mr. Bingley looked unhappily at Mr. Darcy, who lifted his shoulders a fraction of an inch and then let them drop.
The weather was clement, but Miss Bingley’s presence meant that the carriage had to be brought out, as she did not ride.
Mr. Bingley stared moodily out the carriage window, not even pretending to listen to his sister’s prattle; Mr. Darcy, as a guest, was required to be polite, so he listened to her with half an ear and merely murmured noncommittally when was required.
When they arrived at Longbourn, Mr. Bingley got out first, handed his sister out, and then pulled Mr. Darcy aside for a quick word. “She agrees that expectations have been raised.” His voice was low.
Mr. Darcy merely nodded and then followed Miss Bingley to the house.
Mrs. Bennet sat in the parlour, with Jane and Elizabeth busy with their sewing. Mr. Collins and Miss Mary sat together, their new status as a betrothed couple plain for all to see. Kitty and Lydia had been sent upstairs as soon as the carriage had been spotted.
Mr. Darcy’s eye sought out Miss Elizabeth at once; she sat alone on a sofa. She raised her eyes to his and smiled.
Mr. Darcy was aware of a good many conflicting feelings as he moved, inexorably, inevitably, as if pulled by an invisible cord, towards her.
He had promised Bingley not to approach Miss Elizabeth; as a gentleman, he should find a seat elsewhere, anywhere except beside Miss Elizabeth.
But he was helpless to resist; a moment later, he found himself beside her.
But he immediately saw he had no cause to reproach himself, as Mr. Bingley had already seated himself beside Miss Bennet, rather than Miss Elizabeth.
“Mr. Darcy,” she began. Her voice was low, soothing to the ear, completely unlike Miss Bingley’s shrill soprano.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he replied, softly.
“I am told that you brought Jane home to us; I am sorry I was not present when you arrived in order to thank you for that service. May I offer my thanks, however belated, now?”
“No thanks are needed,” he said, automatically.
“I missed my sister dearly,” she continued. “So, though you will not accept my gratitude, you have it nonetheless.”
“I know what it is to long to see one’s sister,” he said. “I have a sister myself.”
“Oh! Will you tell me about her?”
He found himself, most unexpectedly, speaking about Georgiana – how well she played the pianoforte, her shyness, her droll sense of humour, how her spirits had been depressed after a difficult summer. “She has a new companion, a Mrs. Annesley,” he concluded. “She seems very kind.”
“I am sorry to hear that Miss Darcy is not feeling in the best of spirits,” Elizabeth said, gently. “But it sounds as if she has a good deal of support. That will doubtless help restore her spirits.”
“Do you think so?”
“Oh, without a doubt. She has her music, a companion who we may hope will prove agreeable and, most importantly, a brother who adores her!”
“Is it that obvious?” he asked, laughing at himself.
“It is to me, yes. I have a sister for whom I would do anything, so I am, perhaps, more attuned to the subtleties in your description of her.”
“And am I correct in understanding that this particular sister is Miss Bennet?” he asked, daringly.
They both looked across the room to where Miss Bennet sat with Mr. Bingley, both of whom were alternately staring at the carpet and then sneaking glances at one another.
How Mr. Darcy wished he could ask Miss Elizabeth outright if she had expectations of Mr. Bingley, and if she would be wounded were the man to transfer his affections to Miss Bennet!
But such a conversation was completely impossible.
Mrs. Bennet watched Elizabeth with Mr. Darcy and Jane with Mr. Bingley and felt a great sense of unease.
It would all have been very well had Jane been at Longbourn earlier, but Elizabeth and Mr. Bingley were mere minutes away from becoming engaged!
Was it wise to allow Jane to undo that progress?
Might confusion between the two sisters not simply confuse the man?
Her decision made, she caroled, “Mr. Bingley!”
He looked up, startled.
“I am certain that Elizabeth is missing you,” she said, coyly.
Called to his duty, Mr. Bingley coloured guiltily and then rose, bowed to Jane, and walked toward Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy also rose, bowed to Elizabeth and took his seat beside Miss Bennet.
“I must thank you again, Mr. Darcy, for the great service you rendered me,” Miss Bennet said. Her voice was soft, sweet, gentle; why, then, did he compare it unfavorably with Miss Elizabeth’s lower pitch?
“No, indeed, Miss Bennet. I have been thanked repeatedly, but truly, it was nothing whatever. I prefer riding horseback to a carriage in any case, particularly for so short a journey.”
She only nodded in reply.
Mr. Darcy could think of nothing more to say. The two sat in silence.
Elizabeth, now sitting with Mr. Bingley, said, “I am so glad my sister is home! You have met her now, so you can understand when I say that she is the most beautiful creature alive!”
Mr. Bingley opened his mouth to agree most fervently, but caught himself in time. Instead, he simply nodded.
Elizabeth continued. “And the truth is, she is as beautiful inside as she is out! She has never had an unkind word for anyone. No one who has ever met her has not loved her at once.”
Mr. Bingley wondered, for one mad moment, if this was a quiz of some sort. Was Miss Elizabeth testing his resolve to court her, rather than her elder sister? Hesitantly, he replied, “There are, I believe, many different forms of beauty.”
“There are, of course, Mr. Bingley.” Sensing his discomfort, Elizabeth changed the subject.
It would not do to let Mr. Bingley slip her hook before he was ready to attach himself to Jane!
One of the Bennet sisters had to marry him, that much she knew.
“Tell me, is the hunting season quite over? I know in fashionable circles, the fox hunting season has begun, but Meryton has never participated in that sport.”
“No fox hunting? Why, Mr. Hurst will be devastated!”
Elizabeth laughed. “It is hard to imagine Mr. Hurst being devastated at anything!”
Mr. Bingley, picturing the indolent Mr. Hurst lounging on a sofa, joined in her laughter. Miss Elizabeth might not be the stunning beauty that her sister was, but she was certainly easy to talk with.
Miss Bingley had found herself sitting in solitary comfort in the chair closest to the fire. Unburdened by the need to speak to anyone, she contented herself with observing the room.
Would her brother transfer his affections to the elder sister? Which sister would best suit Caroline? If Charles was having difficulty choosing between the two sisters, well, Caroline would make the decision for him.