Chapter 64
When Mary entered the drawing room, she headed straight for her aunt, in whom she longed to confide the story of her dinner-table exertions, and the underhand manoeuvres that had made them necessary; but her progress was interrupted by Miss Bingley, who, much to Mary’s surprise, took her arm much as she had done Mr. Ryder’s, and led her in the opposite direction.
She stopped at the fireplace and sat down upon one of two sofas which faced each other before it.
Reluctantly, Mary took a place opposite her.
“I hope you will excuse me leading you away,” said Miss Bingley, “but I can’t let this evening pass without having had the chance to talk to you properly, a privilege I have not enjoyed for some time.”
“Yes, it was a great pity we were sat at such a distance from each other,” replied Mary. “If only we had been nearer, we could have conversed as often as we wished.”
“Ah, the mysteries of placement, who can understand them?” Caroline Bingley’s smile dismissed the subject as she gestured expansively at the room around them. “Tell me, what do you think of Mr. Ryder’s apartments? They are very elegant, are they not?”
“They are certainly very well arranged.”
“Much of the furniture comes from Rosings. Lady Catherine graciously presented it to Mr. Ryder when he moved here to Brook Street.” Miss Bingley’s glance moved caressingly from the small table beside her to an inlaid sideboard standing upon slender legs. “She is very fond of him, you know.”
“That is very fortunate for Mr. Ryder.”
“When I was last in her company, Lady Catherine told me she had made your acquaintance when she visited Longbourn.”
The room suddenly felt uncomfortably hot.
The idea of Miss Bingley and Lady Catherine engaged in conversation about her could only be upsetting; but Mary knew it would be fatal to display any weakness.
She took a single steady breath, imperceptible to anyone but herself, and replied as calmly as possible.
“We met when I was staying with Mr. and Mrs. Collins. She paid us a visit one afternoon.”
“So I heard. Lady Catherine confessed herself astonished at the great difference between you and your sister. She said you were nowhere near as handsome as Elizabeth—but nor were you so provoking.”
“That was very candid of her.”
“She is well known for her frankness,” observed Miss Bingley, turning to Lady Catherine’s portrait, as if she expected it to confirm what she was about to say. “In fact, she was extremely interested in you. She thought you had great potential—as a governess.”
Mary was horrified. It appalled her to discover that Miss Bingley was privy to the details of that shameful conversation.
To give herself some occupation whilst she considered what to say, Mary reached into a Chinese bowl placed on the table beside her and drew out a few sprigs of dried lavender, clasping them in her hands.
“But unfortunately,” continued Miss Bingley, “it seems you left before Lady Catherine could conclude the arrangements. She was most disappointed. She thought it an excellent opportunity for you.”
“I was very grateful for Lady Catherine’s concern,” Mary replied, “but as I explained to her, I don’t think I’m suited to becoming a governess. It isn’t the kind of life I should choose for myself.”
“You surprise me. It would have made excellent use of all those accomplishments you have worked so hard to acquire. Well, if it isn’t to be the schoolroom, you must intend marriage, I suppose.”
“I did not say so. Those are your words, not mine.”
“But as you have declined to join the ranks of one of the few occupations open to respectable females, it is hard to see what other destiny you have in mind. Unless you positively hope to end up as a spinster?”
A memory sprang unbidden into Mary’s mind, of her piano teacher, poor, harassed Miss Allen, hurrying up the drive to Longbourn in her shabby black coat, her music books heavy under her arms.
“Your silence speaks volumes,” shot back Miss Bingley. “Let us assume then that we must all marry in the end. Even clever women like yourself. In that case, perhaps you will allow me to offer you a little advice?”
“I think you intend to do so, whether I wish it or not.”
“It seems to me,” began Miss Bingley, “that a great deal of time is thrown away in the pursuit of attachments that can never come to anything. I refer to those where the difference in rank between the gentleman and the lady is simply too wide to be bridged. The most harmonious matches are always those where there is something like an equality of position between the parties involved.”
Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of loud, male voices.
The gentlemen had tired of one another’s company in the dining room and had come in to join the ladies.
Mr. Ryder was first through the door; he waved happily at Mary and then at Miss Bingley, who threw back her shoulders and smiled invitingly at him in return.
There could be no doubt of her intentions towards him.
Mary looked from Mr. Ryder back to Miss Bingley, poised and superior in her dark red dress.
She felt disinclined to be bullied as she had been so often before.
“I’m afraid your meaning is a little obscure. I assume you refer to me, but I fail to understand in what connection. As I look about this room, I see no-one here but gentlemen. And as I am a gentleman’s daughter, I perceive no outrageous distinctions in rank.”
“That you choose not to see them does not mean they are not there,” retorted Miss Bingley.
“I do not see why that should concern you. Unless you believe, in some way I do not appreciate, that I am an obstacle to your own matrimonial ambitions?”
“I think you know very well to what I refer.”
“Do you mean to suggest I am pursuing Mr. Ryder? Or that he is pursuing me? If so, I can tell you both accusations are equally without foundation.”
This time it was Miss Bingley who looked away first. Her hand flew to her hair, which she patted thoughtlessly, before returning to the attack once more.
“Really? And yet it seems you do all you can to please him. I cannot imagine why else he would speak of you as he does. Apparently, you have a cultivated mind and take an interest in the world. You have no false manners or artificial enthusiasms. And there is never anything shallow or affected about you. You must have worked very hard to have left such a favourable impression.”
No woman can be entirely unmoved to learn she has been sincerely praised by a man, especially when she is not used to hearing herself admired; and Mary felt some satisfaction to hear Mr. Ryder’s words reported back to her in Miss Bingley’s resentful tone.
But she did not allow it to alter her reply.
“You are quite mistaken in what you imply. Mr. Ryder speaks well of everyone. It is his way. You, who have made such a close study of him, must have seen this for yourself. It does not signify any particular liking for me. He does not mean anything by it.”
Miss Bingley was unconvinced.
“How, then, is your own behaviour to be understood? You always seem very happy to listen to anything he has to say. And you have certainly smartened yourself up since I saw you last. What is the reason for that, if not to improve your prospects, in one way or another?”
Mary was suddenly so angry that she did not trust herself to speak; and in those few seconds, Miss Bingley recovered much of the self-possession which had briefly deserted her.
“Confine yourself to your proper sphere, Miss Bennet. Do not trespass where you cannot hope to succeed. Do not embarrass yourself and your friends by pursuing an attachment which cannot be returned. Presumption of that kind leads only to disappointment and humiliation where matters of the heart are concerned.”
Mary had promised herself she would not allow Caroline Bingley to provoke her, that she would not sink to exchanging insults—but she could contain herself no longer.
When Mr. Darcy had so obviously rejected Miss Bingley’s advances in favour of Lizzie, Mary had felt some sympathy for her.
She did not think her amiable, but she had been sorry for her humiliation.
But now any sense of pity was utterly extinguished.
“You seem to know a great deal about rejection. Is this a lesson you have learnt from extensive study? Or do you perhaps owe it to experience of a more personal nature?”
Miss Bingley flinched—she had not expected Mary to land such a blow. Her outrage was unmistakeable—Mary thought she might have struck her if such behaviour had been permitted in polite drawing rooms. But instead, Miss Bingley drew her silk skirt around her, as if to protect her from further insult.
“I speak only from what I have observed. It is a truth universally acknowledged, I believe.”
With a contemptuous nod, Miss Bingley rose and strode quickly away, over to where Mr. Ryder and the other gentlemen stood.
Mary watched as she moved as close to Mr. Ryder as she dared and began to practise upon him all the little flirtatious teases with which she had once sought to attract Mr. Darcy.
Even from across the room, Mary could sense the archness in Caroline Bingley’s tone, could imagine the playful scolding with which Mr. Ryder was charmingly rebuked, and could almost feel the repeated light touch of her fan on his arm, a gesture so suggestive of her possessive intent that Miss Bingley might as well have shouted out her intentions to the entire room.
Mary remained on the sofa, disturbed by the vehemence of the encounter.
The lavender stems were still in her hands and she rubbed them together more until they released their strong, pure scent, which she breathed in deeply to calm herself.
She could not believe what had just happened.
It was scarcely to be credited that Miss Bingley should consider her, of all people, a rival for Mr. Ryder’s attentions; and it was even more to be wondered at that she had not meekly absorbed the insults with which Miss Bingley accompanied her accusations.
She had fought back—and with some asperity too.
Had she been too cruel? She considered the question seriously for a moment, before recalling the numerous petty humiliations to which Miss Bingley had subjected her, the many small indignities she had suffered at that lady’s hands.
No, she did not think so. She tucked the lavender sprigs into the sash of her dress, rose from the sofa quite calmly, and went to find her aunt and uncle, entirely satisfied with her conduct.