Chapter 6
The morning surprised Elizabeth with its brightness.
February days in London were rarely inclined toward light or warmth, and yet sunlight poured through the tall windows of the Gardiners’ drawing room as though spring had already secured a foothold.
It softened the outlines of the furniture and warmed the polished floor, lending the room an air of promise that made Elizabeth smile even as she knew that spring remained a long way off.
She stood near the window, her gaze drifting absently over the street below, where carriages passed in quick succession and pedestrians moved with firm, decisive tread, though not so hurriedly as to omit stopping to hail their friends and neighbours.
Jane sat at the small writing table nearby, folding a letter she had just finished with careful precision, while Mrs Gardiner arranged her gloves beside her bonnet, her movements composed and methodical.
The scene possessed such tranquillity that it felt almost staged.
Elizabeth knew precisely why; their plans for the morning were not merely a walk, but a stratagem.
She had agreed to it readily enough at the time, convinced by the clarity of its logic.
When Mr Darcy had proposed their carefully accidental appearances in public, she had accepted without hesitation.
The plan was simple enough. They would appear together, as though by chance, and behave with perfect indifference.
Having nothing on which to feed, society’s curiosity would surely exhaust itself.
All of Elizabeth’s reason approved of the plan, for it was sensible, restrained, and had every chance of success. Then, too, it would give Jane a freedom she had been denied too often.
Standing there now, she was less certain that reason alone would suffice.
But Elizabeth must prepare herself, ready or no, for the moment was even then almost at hand.
Mr Bingley was already slightly late — not yet to the point of true rudeness, but notably in contrast with every previous engagement he had attended.
Eager as he had seemed to see Jane, his tardiness surely would not stretch out much longer.
Jane rose and joined her at the window. “Are you nervous?” Jane asked gently.
With a slight effort, Elizabeth laughed. “Surely I should be asking you that. Or perhaps rather, if you are excited to have an appointment to go walking with Mr Bingley.”
“I am excited and nervous both,” Jane told her. “I had not dared to hope he could be so much interested as he seemed to be when he called on us. And now, to go out walking in Hyde Park, where we will be so closely observed…am I wrong, Lizzy, to think it a very promising sign of his intentions?”
“No, indeed,” Elizabeth reassured her. “Everything in his manner made me think him already half in love with you.”
Jane smiled. “Even if I would not go so far, I cannot help but be made happy by such kind attentions from Mr Bingley. But this meeting is not so simple for you as it is for me, Lizzy. You will have to meet Mr Darcy and be careful to act indifferent.”
“I will not have to act indifferent,” Elizabeth protested. “I will merely show everyone my indifference. It is not at all the same thing.”
“Oh, yes,” Jane agreed mildly.
“In any case, no, I am not nervous,” Elizabeth told her firmly. She moved away from the window and reached for her gloves, smoothing the leather with unnecessary care. Idleness left too much room for thought, and her thoughts had been strangely unsettled all morning.
Mr Darcy would be there.
The idea no longer startled her, but it had not grown entirely comfortable either.
She told herself she was prepared to meet him with politeness, seeming neither cold nor interested.
Elizabeth had even rehearsed some carefully neutral phrases to ensure that she would not slip into betraying any hint of their old conflict.
Any conflict meant heat, and heat might be mischievously misconstrued.
Yet for all Elizabeth’s careful planning, she knew that whether such careful phrases would withstand the reality of his presence remained uncertain.
Jane, observing her with sisterly acuity, spoke again. “Are you quite certain this plan is wise?”
Elizabeth hesitated only a moment. “It is the wisest option available to us.”
Jane accepted this without further objection. “Then I shall endeavour to enjoy the walk.”
Elizabeth reached for her hand. “That is all I ask.”
A knock sounded at the door.
Elizabeth felt her attention sharpen at once, though she kept her expression composed. Mrs Gardiner glanced toward the hall with calm expectation.
“That will be Mr Bingley,” Jane said, rising.
The maid entered moments later, her face bright with the importance of her errand. “Your visitors, ma’am.”
Elizabeth permitted herself a quiet breath of relief. At least the morning had begun as planned.
That relief lasted only until the door opened fully.
Mr Bingley entered with an eager step and a broad smile, but he was not alone. Caroline Bingley followed close behind her brother. She looked about her with a slight but unmistakable sneer, as though regretting having lowered herself by entering such a place as Gracechurch Street.
Unlike his sister, Mr Bingley made his pleasure at seeing them evident at once. “I hope you will forgive my tardiness,” he said earnestly. “I was quite on the point of setting out when I was detained.”
“I insisted upon accompanying him,” Miss Bingley said at once, smiling sweetly. “It seemed such a shame to let him go without me on so fine a morning. And I confess, I required a few moments to make myself presentable.”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “Naturally, Miss Bingley.” Inwardly, she reproached herself for not anticipating the intrusion.
Of course Miss Bingley would make herself a party to the walk, invitation or no.
She had already made it clear that she would stoop to deception to keep her brother away from Jane.
What was intruding on an outing to which she had not been invited?
Where there was such an opportunity for interference, Miss Bingley would not hesitate.
Jane greeted her with gentle politeness, though her composure seemed newly strained. Miss Bingley returned the greeting with an enthusiasm that failed to reach her eyes.
“Well,” Mr Bingley said cheerfully, oblivious to the subtle tension, “shall we make the most of the sunshine?”
Mrs Gardiner agreed at once, and Elizabeth followed suit, adjusting her expectations even as she gathered her cloak.
Miss Bingley’s presence complicated matters, but it did not undo them.
If anything, it would assist them in their little demonstration.
Surely Elizabeth’s indifference to Mr Darcy would be all the better set off by the presence of Miss Bingley, who was always so assiduous in her attentions to him.
They stepped into the street together, the light cool and promising against their faces.
With the unexpected addition of Miss Bingley, Mr Bingley’s carriage was a little crowded, though on a journey as short as that to Hyde Park from Gracechurch Street, it was of little matter.
Feeling Miss Bingley’s icy gaze on her from the seat opposite, Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and resolved upon one thing with renewed determination.
Whatever this walk revealed, she would not allow herself to be unsettled before it began.
Hyde Park received them with its usual air of cultivated ease.
The broad paths were lively without being crowded, and the pale winter light filtered through bare branches to settle gently upon gravel and grass.
It was a place designed for observation, where one might stroll without exertion and be seen without effort.
Lovely as it was, it always left Elizabeth a little unsatisfied, longing for the longer walks and wider views of the countryside.
Even on the longest walk through Hyde Park, it was impossible to forget one was still in the middle of London.
Their little party arranged itself as they walked.
Mr Bingley attempted to fall naturally beside Jane, but Miss Bingley positioned herself between them with seamless precision.
She spoke at once, remarking upon the weather, the elegance of the gown worn by a lady passing by, and the improvements made to the park since the previous season, her voice flowing without pause.
Elizabeth watched with a mixture of amusement and frustration, wishing she might intervene, but knowing it was better to do nothing than to act clumsily.
Mr Bingley nodded, smiled, and laughed in the appropriate places.
When he attempted to address Jane directly, Miss Bingley anticipated him with remarkable efficiency, answering for her or introducing a new topic before Jane could respond.
Elizabeth felt irritation coil sharply within her.
Jane bore it with admirable patience, responding when she could and listening when she could not. Elizabeth admired her restraint even as it exasperated her.
Mrs Gardiner walked beside Elizabeth in silence for a time before murmuring quietly, “Miss Bingley appears determined.”
“Not to be overlooked,” Elizabeth replied. “Or displaced.”
They watched as Mr Bingley tried once more to engage Jane, only for Miss Bingley to interrupt again, this time with a lengthy observation on London society. Elizabeth felt her hands curl inside her gloves.
She reminded herself firmly that the purpose of their walk was not perfection, but opportunity. Even Caroline Bingley could not command uninterrupted attention forever.
Elizabeth only wished Miss Bingley knew as much, for she seemed determined to attempt it.
It was only when they had reached the Serpentine Bridge and were turning back on the path that she finally paused long enough for Mr Bingley to seize his chance.