Chapter 6
Jane had never had so many social engagements in her life. Nearly every day there was something. A musical evening with friends of her aunt, a dinner party with her uncle’s business acquaintances, a ball, a tea, a night at the theater. After a fortnight in town, she was exhausted!
Her friendship with Mrs. Caldwell and Mrs. Pearson grew stronger daily. The ladies were very kind and seemed genuine to Jane, though her newfound doubt in people made her question her own abilities to discern character. She was not at all happy about that development.
At least she was being given ample opportunity to meet and converse with men who had no connection to Hertfordshire.
She had come to London before, of course, but her schedule had never been quite this active.
Now, her aunt and uncle seemed to be eagerly pushing her towards courtship.
They introduced her to several very eligible men, some with as good an income as Mr. Bingley, and gave her every encouragement.
It was all very odd, but Jane took it in stride as she always did.
Perhaps the oddest thing of all was Mr. Bingley.
His behavior toward her at the Pearsons’ ball had left her in a muddle, but it had been several days since she had seen him.
Now, at a musical performance at a public room, whom should she see trying to catch her attention across the room?
Mr. Bingley, in a very handsome blue coat, with his sister Miss Bingley.
He had seen Jane and quickly made his way to her while Caroline glared at her. Was Miss Bingley truly a bad egg, then?
How disappointing.
And an alarming confirmation of her father’s advice regarding human nature.
Setting aside her disenchantment with the human race, Jane smiled and held her hand out to Mr. Bingley. He bowed over it and smiled at her joyfully; her heart stumbled a bit before breaking out into a run. She registered that he was looking at her expectantly. His lips had moved. What had he said?
“Good evening, Mr. Bingley,” she managed.
“Are you here with your aunt and uncle?” he asked.
“Yes. They are just there.” She pointed to the same couple she had indicated at the ball.
“Might you introduce me?”
“Of course.” She led him toward her relations just as they finished conversing with another couple. “Aunt, Uncle, this is Mr. Bingley. I met him in Hertfordshire last autumn. This is my Uncle and Aunt Gardiner.”
Bingley bowed gallantly and smiled, happy to be meeting Miss Bennet’s relatives and oblivious to the wariness in their gazes.
They continued on in simple conversation, Bingley being as charming as he ever was, and the Gardiners eventually thawing to him.
Finally, he asked where they were sitting and Mrs. Gardiner, being a genial hostess, asked if he would like to join them.
He said he would just tell his party and hastened off like an excited boy granted a treat.
Even as she shook her head, Jane couldn’t help but smile.
Bingley approached his sister and her friends with less bounce in his step than he had left them with.
He had not wanted to come tonight, preferring to stay in his rooms and think.
But Caroline had whined and wheedled and finally told him something about there being a man she thought was showing interest in her and wanting her brother to examine the situation for her.
He should have known she was lying to get her way, but he was so anxious to marry her off that he came along.
Of course there was no such man. Caroline said something must have come up that caused him to cancel, but Bingley knew she was lying.
However, there was a lady that would like to marry into the Bingley family.
Caroline introduced her old school friend with a sickly sweet smile and a look in her eyes he remembered from childhood.
It often preceded the breaking of his favorite toy.
He had accepted the introduction to the blonde beauty, who was remarkably similar to Jane Bennet in stature and coloring, and then made his way to the outskirts of the group, feeling put out with Caroline’s manipulations and angry at himself for falling for it once again. Would he never learn with her?
He so sincerely wanted her to be nice, wanted her to have good motives, wanted her to actually care about his happiness and be kind to those around her.
Was that so ridiculous? He was beginning to think it was.
It might be a nice imagining, having kind sisters instead of catty ones, but it wasn’t reality, and perhaps it was time to let the dream die.
He felt an ache at the thought of it, but also relief.
Did not hope deferred make the heart sick?
And then, just as he was deciding he had had enough of his pernicious sister, the crowd parted and he saw an angel.
Or rather he saw Jane Bennet. But was it any wonder he thought her an angel considering the harridan he had grown up with?
Without a moment’s delay and not a word to his sister, he made his way to her.
Perhaps this night would not be a waste, after all.
Poor Jane. Just as she was accepting that she would have to choose a man to marry, and that said man would not be Mr. Bingley, who should sit next to her at a concert?
Who should be so alarmingly close that his coat sleeve would brush against her arm so many times?
Who would look at her with the sweetest, most guileless look in his eyes when the music was particularly pleasing? How was her heart to stand it?
She was so tired of the confusion, of the people who said one thing while meaning another, and the relatives trying to make her see the world as she sincerely hoped it wasn’t.
Mr. Bingley’s artlessness was a relief and made her heart soften.
But before she could allow the sweet softness to take over, she remembered her anticipation at seeing him after the ball in Hertfordshire, and how she had waited for him to come and then received his sister’s horrid letter, destroying all her hopes.
He had left her, heartbroken and humiliated in front of her neighbors, whispered about behind fans and sniggered at when she left the room.
Mr. Bingley’s candor was as false as his sister’s, only he was much better at it.
Perhaps he really did like her. Perhaps he was simply oblivious to how his actions affected her, in which case he was an inconsiderate man with little honor, playing with women’s hearts as he did.
She pulled her arm in tight to her body and scooted to the far edge of her seat.
She would not be anyone’s play thing. She may be good, but she was not stupid, and she would not be played a fool. Again.
Bingley called on Jane at the Gardiners’ home in a few days. He was as attentive as ever, but she was more reserved. She was polite and kind, according to her nature, but she offered him no encouragement. He could not really blame her. His actions had certainly been confusing.
And he would have been discouraged if it weren’t for the telltale blush that rushed onto her cheeks when he kissed her hand after their first meeting.
Or the way she stammered when he helped her with her shawl before a walk in the park at his second call, or the gooseflesh that had leapt onto her bare arms when he danced with her at a ball.
So he continued to call, hoping to soften her regard.
Meanwhile, Caroline was being insufferable, as she nearly always was.
They could be pleasant together, but there was a reason he kept his own rooms instead of living with his siblings.
He had a meeting with his solicitor to assess the state of Caroline’s dowry and go over the conditions in his father’s will.
The only stipulation for its release seemed to be Charles’s approval of the husband.
If he were not available, it fell to an uncle.
This knowledge in mind, he decided to begin his own search for Caroline’s husband.
She was a year older than him, making her nearly four and twenty.
He thought it wasn’t presumptuous of him to think she had better get to it quickly before she was considered on the shelf.
He also thought his chances were better at getting a certain woman to want to marry him if he could promise his sister would not be living with them.
This decisiveness was a bit new for him; he usually talked everything over with a trusted friend like Darcy before making any decisions— he was more like a big brother, really.
But Darcy had been preoccupied of late. They had spent little time together before Darcy was due to leave for Kent and instead of waiting around, Bingley thought he would try his hand at figuring out what to do with his sister.
He would consult with others before making any drastic decisions, probably Darcy and his uncle in Scarborough, but he had just turned twenty-three; surely it was time to do some things on his own?
He would begin by dealing with his sister. Heaven help me.