Chapter 19 #2
Miss Bingley looked like she could not possibly apprehend what Elizabeth might have missed about the country, but she continued.
“Hertfordshire is lovely. I do hope my brother will settle there, which I think he must, particularly if a certain…desirable event, shall we say…should occur.” She glanced eloquently at the two lovers, still in close conversation.
With another forced smile, Elizabeth asked, “Would you like to see the rest of the house? I can summon a maid to perform our office here.”
Miss Bingley eagerly agreed, and Elizabeth took her on a tour, showing her the many fine furnishings and priceless heirlooms of the Courtenay family.
As the two ladies walked, Elizabeth realised a greater retribution could not have been found for the slights Miss Bingley had put upon her in Hertfordshire than was had in their present activity.
She almost pitied the woman, seeing her nearly swoon at the tapestries and wall coverings and fondle some of the sculptures in the gallery as if they were her lovers.
As they walked on, Elizabeth had to admit to a grudging sort of admiration for Miss Bingley in terms of house decoration.
Although she might have imagined her tastes to be rather garish Miss Bingley had some fine ideas for some changes that might be made here and there to integrate new with old and enable Elizabeth to modernise without eradicating too much.
“Lady Courtenay, if I might be so bold…” Miss Bingley stood in a diffident posture, a deep blush spread over her face and neck.
She gave an embarrassed little laugh. “Fashion is something of my passion, and I read about your gowns. I would be so honoured to have just a small peep at your dressing room…Oh! I am aghast at my impertinence!”
Elizabeth regarded her with cool amusement. “I do recall you and Mrs Hurst reading of my gowns one day while I was at Netherfield.”
“Oh, yes.” Miss Bingley had the grace to look discomfited by the recollection and so Elizabeth took pity on her.
“Come, let us go to my dressing room.”
Elizabeth smothered her smile upon seeing Miss Bingley emit gasp after gasp as her gowns were shown.
Miss Bingley looked almost green with envy as Elizabeth showed her the Courtenay jewels Henry had given her, as well as numerous shoes, bonnets and hats, scarves, shawls, and other ladies’ accoutrements.
Miss Bingley was reverential as she gazed upon all the finery, peppering Elizabeth with various questions about her preferences and choices.
“Oh! Now this is a colour I might not have considered for you, but I daresay it is very nice against your skin. What are your favourite colours? … What think you of shorter hair? I have considered it, but I do not know whether I would like it. … Have you ordered any ankle length gowns? … Your late husband must have been quite fashionable.”
The last made Elizabeth chuckle. “Heavens, no. If ever a gentleman required the assistance of a good valet and a wife, it was my Henry. When I first met him, he was dressed so poorly, I had no notion that he was of fashionable society.
“His clothes were well made, but Henry had little interest in his attire. If it was not damaged or stained beyond repair, and kept him warm and dry, it remained in his service. The notion of whether something was the latest fashion would never have entered his mind, and even his newer purchases were of a staid, unremarkable variety. When I met him, I thought him to be a gentleman, or possibly in trade, but certainly not as wealthy or as high as he was.”
Miss Bingley laughed. “I might say the same of my brother.”
“Mr Bingley always seems well-dressed to me.”
“Charles looks as he does because he has an excellent, fashion-conscious valet, and he has me in his ear, urging him towards certain selections. Left to his own devices, he would likely wait for his clothing to dissolve into its individual threads before he purchased new.”
“You and his valet have done a fine job, then. He is always well-dressed.” She glanced at the mantel clock. “Speaking of your brother, I believe we have left him alone with my sister long enough.”
Miss Bingley rose from her seat. “I am sure he had no idea of being so indulged when we came here today.”
As they descended the stairs, Miss Bingley spoke. “May I speak frankly?”
“Of course.”
Miss Bingley hesitated, as though searching for the correct words.
“My brother was quite taken with your sister when we were in Hertfordshire.
Charles is known for his tendency to fall in and out of love rather quickly, but his regard for her did seem different.
He had every intention of returning to Hertfordshire and offering for her.
“I must admit—the things I wrote in my letter to Miss Bennet were of my own design, and I hope it will not affect your good opinion or your sister’s regard for my brother. He heard the opinions expressed by me and by his friend, but he intended to return to Hertfordshire nevertheless.”
So Mr Darcy had a hand in this as well—that does not surprise me.
“I am not in the habit of influencing my sister’s decisions, and I would not begin now.
Despite my elevation and its effect on the prospects of my sisters, Jane has not changed.
My mother might feel otherwise, but Jane is of age and has my father’s support.
She will hear the longings of her heart when she chooses to marry, and nothing else. ”
With a faint smile, Miss Bingley acknowledged her, and then the two proceeded back to the drawing room.