Chapter Five #2
Jane was aware that Bessie Hill was no ordinary housekeeper, that she was permitted to dawdle and speak familiarly with the family in a way that would not be tolerated in many households, and she was glad of it.
She was of the immediate impression that Hill would be a vital ally during her time here, and she would have been entirely unaccustomed to a home with no maternal figure at all.
Mr. Bennet was still occupied when a visitor was announced; Miss Caroline Bingley was shown into the parlor, and Hill hastily scampered away to bring them tea.
Jane had been fortunate in the sterling example of Mrs. Campbell in matters of acting as mistress of the house, and recalled after a moment of panic that Elizabeth had mentioned no such person as Miss Bingley to her.
Jane resolved to behave as lady of the manor, anyhow.
But before she could speak, the tall, buxom redhead put herself forward. “You must be Miss Eliza! But where is my dear Mr. Bennet? I had expected to find your father in raptures over your return.”
“So, too, did I,” Jane said flatly, desperate to determine who this woman was.
She was beautiful, and about Jane’s own age or a little older, but Jane was certain the name Bingley did not appear on Elizabeth’s list of the principal personages of Meryton.
Happily, it occurred to Jane that the lady appeared not to know her, either.
Miss Bingley gave a haughty laugh. “That will never do – we ladies must remind him of what attention we are due!”
Jane could think of nothing better to say to this than, "Do sit down, Miss Bingley.”
The two young women sat on separate sofas opposite one another, and Miss Bingley surveyed Jane with a look of interest. “You are very pretty, Miss Eliza – far prettier than I imagined Mr. Bennet’s ward would be.
I had envisioned a tragic little orphan half your age, with mussed hair and sticky hands, quite the child.
But you are a woman grown in your own right! ”
“I had no expectations toward yourself whatsoever,” Jane stammered. For an instant she regretted her thoughtlessly blunt remark, but there was a glimmer of something malicious in Miss Bingley’s eye that made Jane suspect her sister would have been just as insolent.
“Did you not? I was vastly curious about the young lady residing in the home of my future husband, and I rather expected that sentiment to be mutual; ‘tis only natural.”
Jane gaped at her, certain she must have misheard or misunderstood Miss Bingley’s meaning.
And then Hill returned with the tea tray, and Miss Bingley gave the housekeeper a supercilious sneer.
“My betrothed has behaved most mysteriously, Hill – what do you say to that? He has not told Miss Eliza a thing about me, and I have just amazed her!”
Hill met Jane’s eye with an apologetic look. “I say there’s no accountin’ for half the notions he gets in his head,” she drawled.
“Yes, he is a wicked creature,” Miss Bingley said, giving another trill of affected laughter.
“That is just the sort of thing to amuse me, for I can only bear to keep company with clever and amusing people. Those who speak little, and only then to make insipid observations, shall never be welcome in my home. I shall only have the very best of society; we Bingleys are all lively and bright, and drawn to those who couple good humor and good breeding, like my dear Mr. Bennet.”
“And good fortune,” Hill muttered as she passed Jane and quit the room. Jane still only stared at the woman who had professed herself to be engaged to Mr. Bennet. It was impossible, and even infuriating. Jane had never been so vexed, nor so mortified.
Miss Bingley gave her a sugary smile as she fixed her tea. “I had every hope of finding you to be lovely and gregarious – Mr. Bennet told me you are generally amusing – but you must be tired from your journey. You must forgive my eagerness to meet with you.”
Jane wished rather than believed the woman to be sincere. “Certainly. It is very flattering, to inspire such sentiments.”
“No doubt you did the very same in your travels?” Miss Bingley sipped her tea, placed a small biscuit on her plate, and then promptly set that plate aside.
“Your father seemed to be expecting – and rather hoping, I should think – that you would return from Weymouth pursued by suitors begging for your hand.”
“I wonder, then, that you could think me half my twenty years,” Jane said, once again giving voice to her thoughts before she could decide how Elizabeth might respond. When Miss Bingley’s posture stiffened with offense, Jane supposed her instincts had not misled her after all.
“Twenty years! Then you are nearly of age,” Miss Bingley said.
“Ah! There must be a young man, perhaps one not entirely suitable, whom you intend to reveal when you come of age. But you are very welcome to confide in me, dear Eliza, for I shall be your mother, after a fashion. And if you are not already attached to some young fellow, you shall be fortunate in finding my family very well-connected.”
Jane considered again that unlike herself, Elizabeth had no thoughts of matrimony; she was rather horrified to hear that her father had actually hoped for her to find a suitor in Weymouth.
However, perhaps Miss Bingley did mean to be helpful.
“Oh – well – that is very kind. Where is your family’s estate? ”
Miss Bingley sniffed. “I have resided chiefly in London; I attended a first-rate school for young ladies there, and for some years after I have resided either with my sister Mrs. Hurst, whose husband has an estate in Shropshire, or with my brother in Mayfair. It is a fashionable neighborhood in London.”
Jane knew that Elizabeth had not travelled extensively, but surely everyone had heard of Mayfair. Still, she nodded politely and pressed on. “And your brother’s estate?”
“He has lately let a small estate not twenty miles from London, and writes that it is remarkably quaint.”
“Are you fond of the country?” One look at the woman bespoke that she could not truthfully answer in the affirmative.
“That entirely depends on the society,” Miss Bingley said.
“My brother took a property in Hampshire last autumn, and though our party included friends of the first circles, I found the locals utterly savage. We quit the place after six weeks, for fear of some grasping country miss trying to get her claws on my poor brother. He is a man of vast fortune.” This last was said in an exaggerated whisper, as if Miss Bingley believed she did Jane some favor by confiding what was not always palatable to discuss.
It occurred to her that the Bingleys probably came from trade, for she had moved enough in the world to comprehend how some people were inclined to speak of themselves, as if concealing what was not respectable, while seeking every chance to inflate their advantages.
This sort of behavior only made her shrink into herself, for she never knew how to behave around those whose motives were not generous.
Miss Bingley showed no signs of objecting to Jane’s reticence, though she professed herself so fond of lively company.
She fidgeted with her bracelets for a moment before speaking again.
“I might describe my brother just as your guardian Mr. Bennet described you, Eliza – amusing and obliging, of varied interests and talents, able to make friends with ease, and even garner more admirers than one may strictly desire. He moves in the first circles in London, and though my sister and I expect much of him when he weds, he is sure to have a friend who would suit you.”
“He need not feel obligated to oblige me in any such way,” Jane said hastily. “I am perfectly content here at home.”
Before Jane could overcome the strangeness of calling Netherfield home, Miss Bingley gave a condescending laugh.
“Perhaps the future felicity I anticipate in my marriage to your father may lead you to desire a similar situation for yourself, elsewhere. Do they not say that one wedding so often leads to another?”
“Perhaps in cases where a young lady is not long accustomed to being the mistress of her own home,” Jane said.
She had allowed herself to again speak whatever came into her mind, which seemed to always work wonderfully for Elizabeth.
However, with such a companion as Miss Bingley, what was foremost in Jane’s mind was far from pleasant.
This was a new experience for her, but she rather liked the ease with which she had adopted Elizabeth’s sardonic style of addressing those she distrusted.
There were footsteps in the corridor, and Jane breathed a sigh of relief at what must surely be her father coming to her rescue.
Before he entered the room, Miss Bingley gave her a look of ruthless triumph.
“ That is about to change,” she whispered.
“I might be mistress of Netherfield for twenty years yet, and if I give him a son….”
Mr. Bennet entered the room looking rather sheepish, and Miss Bingley instantly turned her venom into virtuous fawning.
“My dear Mr. Bennet, though I know it must have been very tedious for you, your urgent business has given me a fine chance of growing acquainted with darling Eliza. I have been attempting to coax from your ward all the lovely wit you promised she possesses. I fear I have given her a great shock in blurting out our happy news – teasing man, you never told her of it!”
Mr. Bennet came to stand between the two sofas, glancing between them as if unsure where to sit.
He remained standing and let out something between a laugh, a cough, and a groan.
“Ahem! Well! Yes, I confess I have been a poor correspondent while I was in London, and since I returned home last week.”