Chapter 12
“Bingley,” Darcy said to his friend as they rode out the next morning to check on a report of a leaking barn roof on the estate’s dairy, “if you marry Miss Bennet, will you be prepared to support the rest of the family should Mr Bennet die?”
Bingley regarded him in some surprise but answered readily enough, “Aye, I have thought of it. One must, you know, and I was reared to consider income and family as almost a single subject. Since my father died and you advised me on my investments, I have discovered that I have something of a talent for that sort of thing.”
He laughed, presumably at the expression on Darcy’s face which no doubt betrayed his concern.
“Be not alarmed, I am nearly as careful as you would wish. I have put small amounts towards riskier ventures; some have failed, and some have not. But in the main, I simply attend to my newspaper daily and consider whether moving some of my funds might be prudent. I am also reinvesting heavily, for as a single man, even with a sister to support, I do not require half my present income, which is above seven percent of my principal.”
Darcy was impressed. His own investments returned rather less than that, and he had studied the art at his father’s knee from a young age. “Paying out your sister’s dowry will be a bit of a blow when the time comes.”
Bingley shook his head. “I separated that into its own account upon my inheritance. It is safely in the four per cents, and it, too, is growing, for Caroline receives only half the interest and the remainder joins the principal.”
“That is generous of you. The money is legally yours until she weds.”
Bingley raised one shoulder carelessly. “I do not need it. But to return to your question about the Bennets, I have no concerns. Mrs Bennet will have a little income of her own, so all I will be required to do is make her and any of her daughters who remain at home more comfortable. I will not be excessive—she cannot expect to live exactly as she has at Longbourn—but she will have everything she needs and some little luxuries. I expect that Miss Bennet will wish to have Miss Elizabeth with us, and I have no doubt she will marry when exposed to larger society. I could not think of bringing the younger sisters to London, but perhaps they will learn better comportment, or find matches hereabouts once the finer examples of their elder sisters are removed from the local gentlemen’s view,” he concluded with a chuckle.
Darcy found himself uneasy at the thought of Miss Elizabeth being introduced into Bingley’s London acquaintance.
She must, and would, be almost universally admired despite her lack of dowry.
Just as Miss Bennet would somewhat elevate Bingley’s status through her birth, so must Miss Elizabeth bring the same benefit to any of his wealthy friends with ties to trade.
As her friend, he ought to be gladdened that her sister’s union with Bingley, which now seemed more likely than not, would place her in an advantageous position.
He had been worrying only yesterday that she might descend into greater obscurity and lesser wealth, but now, with Bingley speaking confidently of how he would, rather than might, attend to the family in the event of Mr Bennet’s death, he felt that his friend was farther down the road towards proposing to Miss Bennet than even he knew, and therefore Miss Elizabeth’s future was also nearly secure.
Yet he could not derive any joy from the notion of her being presented to precisely the sort of men who would see value in her lineage as well as her person and virtues, and would vie with each other for her hand.
Another day restored Jane to sufficient health as to allow her to join the company downstairs after dinner, where Mr Bingley attended to her comfort with such solicitous attention as to raise a blush in Jane’s still-pale cheeks and fill Elizabeth with delight.
She sat with Miss Bingley and dared to tease her about whether she should like a second sister.
“That particular sister, I should like very well,” her friend replied with a small smile that spoke of real pleasure.
Her manners remained diffident, but Elizabeth was coming to know her well enough to read the little indications of her true feelings which peeked over the shoulder of her elegant composure.
“Your sister is everything good, and I have no doubt you will tell me that living with her will be a pleasure.”
“I cannot imagine that you might find it otherwise. Will you be glad to surrender the management of your brother’s household?”
“Glad? No, I cannot say that I will. It gives me occupation and satisfaction. But it must be done, and I hope I may be useful to my new sister for some little while as she settles into her role.” She looked across the room, where her brother and Jane were engaged in earnest conversation.
“Perhaps we ought not speak as though all were certain, but I have never witnessed such an easy affinity between two people so lately met, have you?”
“I have not,” Elizabeth agreed, smiling at the picture the couple presented.
Mr Darcy, seated nearby, looked up from his book. “Ought I remove myself before you begin planning the wedding breakfast?”
“Indeed, no,” Miss Bingley replied placidly. “We shall require your opinion on the menu, sir.”
Elizabeth laughed so gaily that even Jane and Bingley glanced her way, and Mr Darcy could not restrain a surprised chuckle.
“You sounded just like my father, Mr Darcy. He often complains of the topics the ladies of his family choose to canvass. But if you will suggest another, I am certain we may oblige you.”
Saying that as, to his certain knowledge, both ladies were readers of poetry, Mr Darcy asked if there was any one in particular from whom they would most like to see a new work in the coming year.
They passed half an hour in lively debate over the merits and failings of the modern poets, until Mrs Hurst loudly asked if Miss Bennet would oblige them with a performance on the instrument.
Jane blushed and admitted that she did not play; Mrs Hurst was clearly pleased to have shown her to ill advantage before Mr Bingley.
Elizabeth hastened to defend her sister. “Jane does, however, have a lovely singing voice, though her recent illness will unfortunately prevent any display.”
With a quelling look at her sister, Miss Bingley suggested, “If it is music you wish for, Louisa, I am happy to perform. Miss Elizabeth also sings well—perhaps she will add her voice to my efforts?”
Elizabeth readily agreed, desirous of preventing any further barbs aimed at Jane.
Miss Bingley played masterfully and Elizabeth was able to give a better than usual performance herself, relieved of the need to play at the same time.
They performed several songs, which were warmly applauded by most, before Elizabeth judged that Jane ought to go up and rest.
Early in the morning, finding Jane improved even further, she wrote to her mother to request the carriage, and was swiftly answered that it would not be available until Tuesday at least. Elizabeth knew the turn of her mother’s mind; to remain until Tuesday would have Jane at Netherfield for a week complete, and no thought was to be given to the utter impropriety of overstaying their welcome.
Jane was in complete agreement that Mr Bingley ought to be applied to for the use of his carriage, which she did at breakfast. He was not quite so sanguine as Elizabeth that Jane should be exposed to the cold just yet and urged them to stay but one more day.
It was therefore arranged that the Miss Bennets would go to services with the Netherfield party in the morning, and depart from there with their family.
Bingley and Darcy retreated to the library after church, for Mrs Hurst was in full voice about Mrs Bennet’s displeased reaction to having her daughters returned to her.
The lady had been visibly shocked, then angered, when they joined their family in the Bennet pew before the service, and afterwards she had scolded Miss Elizabeth in full view of all her neighbours for selfishly risking Miss Bennet’s health.
She would not hear her eldest daughter’s protests, and when Bingley attempted to add his support to the notion that Miss Bennet was quite recovered, had forgiven him for not understanding that Miss Elizabeth’s judgment was not to be relied upon.
Darcy had found the entire display insupportable, but had vowed to let it pass without comment.
Mrs Hurst, however, had seized upon the incident to harangue her brother with the foolishness of pursuing a Bennet girl.
Her opinions had flowed as freely as the Trent the whole of the journey back to the house and seemed unlikely to cease very soon.
No doubt they would hear more over dinner, making this brief respite even more necessary.
Darcy felt a little bad about abandoning Miss Bingley to her sister’s ill-humour, though even she had been forced, through her sister’s insistence, to agree that Mrs Bennet’s blatant pushing of her daughter at Bingley was vulgar and unbecoming.
She had followed that statement with the assertion that the mother’s flaws made the eldest daughters not a whit less agreeable, but Mrs Hurst’s satisfaction at getting any sort of agreement out of any of their party had been great.
“If it were not Sunday morning, I would offer you a brandy,” Bingley said wryly when they were alone, shaking his head.
“If it were not Sunday morning, I would accept,” Darcy retorted.
Suddenly, Bingley choked on a laugh. Darcy’s brows rose as his friend’s shoulders shook. “At least it is not the both of them,” Bingley said through a chuckle. “Can you imagine? I should be quite worn down if both my sisters were set against Miss Bennet.”
“It does not bear thinking of.” Had there been another voice arrayed against Bingley’s attraction to the lady, would Darcy have added his own?
He was not certain, and that troubled him.
He did not think of himself as someone who followed the popular opinion without due consideration, and yet he had not approved of his friend’s infatuation in the beginning, due to the lady’s lack of fortune and consequence—the very things Mrs Hurst held against her.
How easy would it have been to continue to see only the drawbacks and not the advantages of the match, had no one else spoken in favour of it?
Bingley dropped heavily into a chair, and Darcy settled into another. “I cannot understand how a mother could speak to a daughter as Mrs Bennet did to Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley said. “After all she did for Miss Bennet!”
“It is apparent that she wished for Miss Bennet to stay here longer, the better to capture you.”
Frowning, Bingley mused, “Do you know, if I were less certain of my interest in her, I think it quite likely that her mother would drive me away.”
“One wonders how many suitors she has relieved her daughters of in the past.”
Bingley huffed a humourless laugh. “Several, no doubt. Lucky for me, I suppose.”